He came up for air and rested his forehead against mine, staring at me as we both panted.
Resting his hand at my throat, he nuzzled next to my ear, never breaking his rhythm. “Say my name, Scarlett.”
I let my head loll back. Power games were my forte. “That all you got, Mr. Granade?”
He gripped my chin and pulled my gaze back to his. “That’s not the name I want, and you know it. Is that how you want to play it?”
I couldn’t help myself, even though my body was dancing along the edge of a knife and ready to fall. I smirked. “Yes, Mr. Granade.”
He grinned. “You asked for it.” Shoving me back down on the table, he caged my throat with one hand and used his other thumb to press on my clit.
My hips bucked, and I writhed beneath him as he pistoned so hard, the heavy table began to move.
“Say it, Scarlett. Tell me who makes you come.” He applied light pressure to the sides of my neck. “I want you to come on my dick. I want to feel you milking me as I give you every last drop.”
His dirty talk shot me into orbit, and when he swirled his thumb around my clit and then let off my neck, euphoria set in and my body froze. I came hard, my pussy undulating against his hard cock.
“Kennedy!” I was gone, dragged down beneath the waves of delicious release and coming harder than I ever had in my life.
“Fuck. Scarlett. Fuck.” He gave me a few more rough shoves before his movements became erratic. I watched as he furrowed his brow and grunted, masculine and deep, as his cock kicked inside me. His chest muscles and abs flexed, tension in every inch of skin. Gorgeous. He stayed deep, coating me with him as I lay boneless and spent.
When he was done, he leaned over, propping himself up with his hands.
“You said it.” He grinned, his breaths coming in pants and his body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. “I won.”
I sat up, resting on my palms so that our bodies were parallel but not touching. “You did?” I flicked my gaze down to his lips and back to his eyes. “I don’t think so.”
“You said my name, Scarlett.” He leaned in for a kiss, but I dipped back, staying out of range. “That means I win.”
“Yeah?” I rolled my hips, working his half-mast cock. “I’m pretty sure I won.”
He groaned and, to my surprise, hardened a bit more. “How’s that?”
“You forgot something.” I leaned up and licked his lips before moving away again.
“What?”
I grinned. “I came twice.” I scooted back, hating that he was no longer inside me but loving the feel of beating him at his own game.
He didn’t let me get far. Gripping my hips, he wrenched me back beneath him, my damp skin skidding on the marble table. He wrapped his fingers around my wrists and pinned me, the devious sparkle in his eyes sending a lick of heat between my already-aching thighs.
“Let’s see if we can’t even this up a bit.” He seated himself to the hilt, his cock hard and getting harder by the second.
I arched an eyebrow. “If you aren’t able make it three for me, I win.”
“Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.” He dropped his mouth to my ear and nibbled at the lobe. “Maybe losing to you isn’t as bad as I thought.”
Chapter Ten
Kennedy
I tossed in my bed, trying to fall asleep. God knew I was tired enough to pass out after fucking Scarlett long and hard. I couldn’t help the grin that overtook me in the dark. That woman was a wildcat up underneath her stuffy exterior. Who knew?
The sounds she made played on a loop in my mind and I grew hard, my dick tenting the sheet. I wanted her again. I’d wanted her the moment she’d straightened her clothes and hustled out of the conference room, giving me a deadly look over her shoulder.
I closed my eyes, mentally chastising my dick for getting overexcited when I needed to sleep. I’d see Scarlett again in eight hours, tops. Would she let me fuck her in the office again? I would definitely give it a try, maybe in her office¸ or—even better—in Guy Porter’s office. Fuck, that would be epic.
I forced my breathing to slow, flashes of her dark hair splayed on the table and her tits bouncing with my impacts slowly fading until all I saw were her eyes. Then my phone rang.
I flipped over, hoping she was the booty call type. I frowned, the display showing Carey’s name.
I swiped across the screen and answered. “What’s up?”
“The encryption broke.”
Finally, some movement in the case. I checked my alarm clock. It was almost 2 a.m. “That’s great news. I’ll be in first thing.”
“No. You’re going to want to see this now.” His voice was quiet, and seemed somehow strained.
I sat up, alarm racing through my blood. “What is it? Tell me.”
“Not over the phone. Meet you at the office. Scarlett’s on her way.” The call ended, and I stared at my phone for a moment before jumping out of bed and throwing on a Tshirt and jeans.
Though it was late, plenty of Mardi Gras partiers wound their way through the thoroughfares of the Garden District and closer to downtown. A light rain didn’t deter them from their revels, and I remembered several Mardi Gras nights where I had been one of the all-night boozers. After a short drive, I pulled into Stone & Porter’s deck and parked next to Scarlett’s SUV.
By the time I made it to the conference room, she was leaning against the table and running a hand through her hair. A flash of her in a similar position from earlier in the night flitted across my mind. I pushed the thought away before my dick got too excited and made a scene.
“Where’s the fire?” I shoved through the door and Carey jumped, turning quickly before settling back down and scrubbing a hand across his face.
Scarlett gave me her usual glare, and I took in her jeans and law school Tshirt. She filled both items of clothing out nicely.
“We have a problem.” Carey put his head down as Scarlett nodded in agreement.
“Which is?” I plopped down in a chair and stifled a yawn.
“I don’t think Greenwood was behind the hack.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What?” If Greenwood didn’t do it, then my chances of a multimillion-dollar payday were getting grimmer by the moment.
“The information Fluffy sent me shows that Discord was hired to hack Rhone, but that some other third party ordered it, not Greenwood. But—” He tapped some keys on his laptop and swung it around so I could see the screen. “—Fluffy’s instructions were to make it look as if it had been Greenwood. And the pay was far better than your regular hack job.”
The screen showed a terse bullet list of objectives via email. The payday for Fluffy was $250,000 if he got the job done—in and out without a trace.
“So, what does all this mean? Other than the fucking obvious problem that now I don’t have a good faith basis to sue Greenwood.” I glanced down to my fingers, imagining hundred-dollar bills slipping right through them.
“It means that there’s more to all of this than we thought.” Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest. “Whoever it was wanted the secrets and wanted to pin it on Greenwood. Has to be another competitor. But who?”
“Most likely candidates are Donovan, Inc., or the Bern brothers.” I tapped my fingers along the table. “I can’t think of anyone else who’d have the sort of money or interest to retain Discord to do their dirty work against Rhone. Greenwood is the number one defense contractor in the nation, with Rhone a close second, and it’s common knowledge that their CEO Elliot Rangel and Frank Rhone have a long-standing feud. It would be easy enough for a smaller player to set Greenwood up for the fall.”
Scarlett gaped at me. “You’ve been doing research?”
I leaned back in my chair and laced my fingers behind my head. “I didn’t become the best plaintiff’s attorney in town by letting the defense lawyers run the show.”
She gave me a “not bad” look and turned back to Carey. “Can you tell who retained Discord?”
He shook his head. “Not from this. But I can run a few more pieces of data to ground. See what I can find.”
“Won’t that be dangerous?” Scarlett pinned her thumbnail between her teeth and wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah, but given what happened to Fluffy, I get the feeling we were in dangerous territory the minute we got this assignment.” Carey pushed up his shirtsleeves, the dark ink wrapping around his forearms rippling as his fingers ran over the keys. “I’ve already set a chat window on each of your laptops.” He jerked his chin toward where they sat at the end of the conference table. “If you want to discuss the case, do it through those windows only. They’re secure. Your phones aren’t. Your Internet isn’t. Don’t trust anyone. If anything happens, call me. Not the police, not the firm. You never know who’s listening.”
“But I need to get in touch with Guy.”
“Go see him in the morning.” Carey closed his laptop and started packing up. “I wouldn’t call or give anything away over the phone. Only talk face-to-face. We don’t want to tip Discord that we’re looking into them. At least not tip them any more than we already have. There’s a reason Fluffy sent me this information. He had to have known this Rhone hack was hazardous to his health. I just need to figure out why.”
“Okay. I’ll play it your way.” Scarlett reached for her laptop.
I grabbed it and handed it to her, running my finger along hers as she took it. She glanced up at me and then quickly away.
The elevator ride was silent, Carey chewing on a fingernail as Scarlett and I leaned against the back wall.
“Remember what I said. I hope to get some more information as soon as possible. I hope it’s not as bad as it seems. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.” Carey dropped his gear into his car and got in. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Stay safe,” Scarlett called.
He waved and pulled out of the deck as I walked Scarlett to her car.
“I can come home with you, if it would make you feel safer.” I was, after all, a gentleman.
“I’m good. Thanks.” She dropped her bag and laptop into her backseat before getting in the driver’s seat and closing her door, effectively cutting off my efforts.
I leaned against my car, watching her put hers in reverse and back away. I got in and started the engine, not too concerned by her turning me down. I intended to taste her again, though I was troubled by how much space she was already taking up in my head. I thought it would be a one-and-done situation, like usual, but it wasn’t. Fucking her only seemed to make me want her more.
She turned left as she exited the deck. I waited for a moment, watching her taillights as I turned my wheel to the right. Movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. A black car eased out of the alley across the way, flipped on its headlights, and got behind Scarlett’s car. It didn’t have a tag.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I turned the wheel to the left. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe hanging around downtown in the dead of night wasn’t just for lawyers and hackers. But something seemed off.
I hit the gas but hung back, tailing the black car as it took every turn and made every move Scarlett did. After a while, I realized it wasn’t a coincidence. The black car was glued to Scarlett, following her down St. Charles and into the Garden District. She wove through some narrow lanes until turning onto Prytania Street and then making another sharp turn onto a wooded lane that led to a small cottage with a small front porch and understated Corinthian columns. She stopped in the drive.
The black car continued down the block. I followed it, checking my rear view to make sure Scarlett got inside her house. She closed the front door as I turned right. The black car had already made another right, circling the block. I eased along, keeping my distance while maintaining my view. The car pulled up to the curb in the narrow alley behind Scarlett’s house.
Its brake lights faded as a man stepped out and pulled a mask down over his face, Mardi Gras maudlin. I scrambled for my phone, succeeding in knocking it to the floorboard as the man disappeared through the fence and into Scarlett’s backyard. I didn’t have a gun or any sort of weapon, but I’d be damned if I was going to let this guy get anywhere near Scarlett.
I parked at the end of the alley and got out, not closing my door. I hurried to Scarlett’s house, walking through her neighbors’ grass to muffle my steps.
A light clicked on in her house and a shadow passed in front of a window. I eased through the fence and stepped over the walk and into the neatly mown grass. The man was ahead of me, standing in the yard and watching Scarlett through the window. She’d stripped her shirt off and was opening a dresser drawer.
“Easy.” The man whispered and laughed low. The moon flashed through between the clouds and glinted off the silver gun hanging at his side. The muzzle was elongated from a silencer.
I crept up behind him as he stood mesmerized, watching Scarlett unhook her bra and change into her pajamas. He didn’t hear me behind him, the mask likely dulling his sense. Violence grew inside me, pushing me forward to take the guy out for thinking he could look at her, much less harm her. I was almost to him when he moved to my left, heading for the back door.
Fuck. I shadowed him. Before he even put his foot on the bottom step, I lunged at him, wrapping my arms around his middle and pinning his arms to him. We fell, him beneath me, and he let out a startled yell as he slammed into the ground. I gripped the cold metal of the gun, ripping it from his grip as he fired a single round into the dirt with a light pop sound. He threw an elbow back, catching me above the right eye so hard, I saw stars for a moment.
He shoved me off and stood to run, but I wrapped my arms around his shins, sending him toppling to the ground again. Crawling on top of him, I pistol-whipped him across the side of the head and he stilled.
Scrambling off him, I got to my feet and pointed the gun at his chest. He shook his head, as if clearing cobwebs. I could see his eyes through the mask, but it was too dark to get any details.
“Hands up, asshole.” I waved at him with the gun.
He sat up, hands in the air.
“Who sent you?”
He gave no response, the multicolored mask leering at me.
“Discord?” I asked.
He cocked his head, but still said nothing.
The porch light flipped on and the back door opened. I turned my head to warn Scarlett to stay inside, but the man on the ground took advantage and threw himself at my legs, knocking me off balance. I fell on my ass but held on to the gun. He was on his feet and running through the fence before I could get a shot off.
Scarlett rushed out to me as he started the car and peeled off into the night. “Are you okay? Who was that? What—?” She knelt and looked at my right eyebrow. “You’re bleeding.”
“Get in the house.” I struggled to my feet and wrapped my arm around her waist, hustling her up the stairs and through the back door. “Lock it. Make sure everything’s locked.”
She glared at me. “What are you doing here and who was that and why are you bleeding?” Her voice rose with each question. “And why do you have a gun?”
I gripped her shoulder. “We aren’t safe. Check the locks and when you come back, I’ll tell you. Okay?”
She opened her mouth, no doubt to argue, but seemed to think better of it and closed it again. She flipped the dead bolt on the back door and pointed to her kitchen table. “Sit. I’ll check the locks, but then I need to get you cleaned up. And I want to know what the hell is going on.” Turning, she walked from the kitchen toward the front of the house, and I noticed she wore only an oversized Tshirt and panties. Nice.
I flipped the safety on and lay the gun on the table before pressing a palm to my eyebrow. I hadn’t felt the pain from the hit, adrenaline dulling everything but my need to take the guy out, but now it hurt like a son of a bitch and bled even worse.
Scarlett reappeared with a bottle of alcohol, some cotton balls, and some gauze. “Now, tell m
e what the hell that was.” She sat next to me and grabbed my chin, pulling my face toward hers. “Move your hand.”
I did as instructed, and she wrinkled her nose as she perused the cut. “This is going to sting.” She doused a cotton ball in alcohol and dabbed it on the wound. “Now, talk.”
I growled and gritted my teeth.
“Big baby.” She wiped across the cut and dropped the bloodied cotton on the table.
“A man followed you home. I followed him. He watched you through your window.”
Her hand stilled and she stared at me. “Go on.”
“I think he was sent here to hurt you, maybe kill you.” I tapped the gun. “He came with this.”
The color drained from her face. “We should call the police.”
“Carey said not to do that.” I covered her hand with mine.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “What if he comes back? Let’s just go to the police station.”
“Look, we can go to the police, give them a statement and a description, but where would that get us? I didn’t see his face. I have no clue who he is or who sent him. All we have is his gun, and I’d bet good money—” I picked it up and flipped it over, inspecting it. “—yeah, the serial number’s been filed off. We got nothing to go on. I’ve got a better idea.” I put the gun back down and ran my hand across her cheek. I never wanted her to be afraid. “We’ll go to my place, and I’ll call some old clients of mine.”
“What good will that do?” She leaned away from my hand and ripped open a package of gauze. Her hands shook and I took them both in mine.
“Scarlett. I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Okay?”
She met my gaze and nodded. “You already did. If you hadn’t followed him . . .” She trailed off and her eyes watered.
“Don’t think about that.” I squeezed her fingers. “Just fix up my ugly mug, pack up a few things, and we’ll head to my house. We’ll get it all sorted from there. But we need to let Carey know what’s going on. Do you have your laptop?”
Total D*ck (Bad Bitch #3) Page 10
