Unwrapped: Clear Security's Holiday (Clear Security Holiday Book 2)

by Ainsley St Claire

  “I just started on it.” Maureen says. “It’s pretty low resolution, so unless I can clean it up, it’s difficult to tell if it’s a potted plant behind Jenn or someone standing there.”

  Fiona leans over to me. “Did you forget to tell me you guys found that?”

  Did I? I grimace. “I thought I told you. Sorry. You can be a little distracting at times.”

  She gives me a look that would make most men’s balls shrivel, but my cock hardens.

  “I got it!” Gage announces.

  We turn to him expectantly.

  “Eric Martin took a car to a clothing store called Rose’s Teens and Tweens.”

  Fiona looks at the ceiling. “That’s not a clothing store. It’s a child sex den.”

  The energy in the room turns dark. Everyone looks disgusted.

  Damien speaks up. “I know it’s disappointing that someone we know may be a pedophile, but this gives us some motive. I’d like to know if Eric Martin is talking to John Riley. It’s my understanding that pedophiles tend to communicate in encrypted chats.”

  “I have a way to see those, if I can find where they’re talking,” Maureen says.

  “You do?” Gage asks.

  Maureen nods.

  “Will you share?”

  “If you’ll introduce me to one of the guys at Clear. Dominic is refusing to do so.”

  “Consider it done,” I interject.

  “This may take some time. I need to tunnel into Eric’s laptop and possibly his home computer tonight when he’s on it, if it’s not on his work computer,” Maureen warns.

  “One last question before you fall down the rabbit hole—who signed the witness affidavit saying Hunter bought a gun?” Damien asks. “Have we figured that out yet?”

  “He’s a private gun seller down in Gilroy, and I found out he signs about twenty-five or so of those a week for various law enforcement agencies—none of them federal, mostly police and sheriff’s offices,” Miles reports.

  “Sounds like we may have someone the US Attorney’s office should be looking in to,” Gage says, typing on his computer. “Get me the information. I’m due to meet with Walker Clifton in the morning.”

  The meeting begins to break up, and everyone congregates around the table in the kitchen. Gage, Maureen, Christine, Miles, and Thomas are talking in rapid-fire sentences.

  Fiona looks at her watch. “I’ve gotta run. I need to meet a flight coming in from Vancouver.” She turns to look at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back. I should be at your place by eight tonight. Are you up for some pho?”

  “Sure. You’re taking Dominic, right?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t need to, since I’ll have US Marshals with me.”

  I cock my head. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She leans in close. “Walker Clifton is a client, and I’m meeting him and his new fiancée at the airport. Dominic can walk me out and hand me off to the US Marshals. I promise not to be too late.” She kisses my cheek.

  “I’ll walk you out. I used to be a US Marshal. I may know these guys.”

  Damien is staring off in space, seeming deep in thought as he packs up his belongings.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Fiona says as she waves goodbye.

  I look at Damien. “I’ll be right back.”

  I escort Fiona to the sidewalk, and turns out I don’t know Walker’s detail, so I check all their credentials and introduce myself.

  As I walk back up the three flights of stairs to Fiona’s office, I decide to head home early and get a workout. I need a chance to talk with Fiona about what’s holding her back. I know now that I’m in, without any doubts.

  A little while later, my mind turns as I run my five miles down to the waterfront and around Coit Tower. By the time I’m returning to my place, I’ve figured out my plan. It kind of shocks me.

  Chapter 23

  Fiona

  When Walker and Marci finally drop me at the loft, I’m a little later than I promised. But Bash seemed understanding when I texted him.

  The pho place around the corner is fast, and they should be able to get our dinner to us quickly. I’m planning to make the call as soon as I find out what Bash would like, but when I walk into the loft, I can smell that dinner has already arrived.

  Bash appears, dressed in my favorite jeans and a sweater. He smells like his soap and sandalwood when I hug him. “You took a shower.”

  “I worked out. Otherwise, I stink.”

  “You never smell.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I ordered dinner. The wait has allowed the soup to cool, so you might be able to eat it at some point tonight.”

  I smile because the last time it was so hot we waited an hour for it to cool.

  I kick my heels off and drop my bag. “We have plans on New Year’s Eve for a wedding.”

  “Really?”

  I nod. I’m excited for Walker and Marci. I don’t have many close friends.

  Bash has candles lit, and we eat dinner talking about Hunter’s case. As we finish up, he switches gears on me.

  “Tell me about your childhood,” he says.

  “It was great,” I respond immediately. “I’m an only child—not by choice; it just happened that way for my parents. I didn’t know it at the time, but my dad came here from Ireland to further the IRA’s cause. He sold guns to gangs and the like—not the one-off here or there, but to big operations, people who wanted two hundred AK47s or fifty Rugers.”

  “Was the FBI on to him?”

  “Not that I know of. They never did what they do to me now.”

  “Do you know how he got caught?”

  “There was a biker gang down in Ventura County, near Los Angeles, that got in trouble when they sold one of the guns they’d bought from my dad to a guy who went on a killing spree at a concert. They turned my dad in for some leniency.”

  “Jeez. I thought those guys sold no one out.”

  I shrug. “Apparently they do. I didn’t know any of this until I was old enough to read the court transcripts. My dad was put away for thirty years, and they tacked on a life sentence for each of the eighteen people killed at the concert.”

  “Wow.”

  “They were sending a message.”

  “Why does the FBI get all spun up about you?”

  I sigh. “You want my canned answer?”

  “No, I want the truth.”

  I look down at my hands. This is it.

  I can probably sleep on the couch in the apartment tonight or until I can find a hotel, but after I tell Bash the truth, he’s not going to want me in his life. Still, I can’t hide from this.

  “The IRA has broken off into many different factions since it started,” I begin. “They are an army and are run like any military organization. They have training camps in the desert of Syria—well, they did. Now they go somewhere else, but they’re a trained army with five sections, each run by a general. My father is one of those generals. He still calls the shots from his bed in Atwater.”

  Bash nods and waits for me to continue.

  “They also work like a monarchy. When he dies, I’m supposed to take over for him. I spent the summer between my sophomore and junior year of high school in Syria. I was sixteen. My dad was already in jail, so I did what the council of generals asked. People were terrified of me because of my father. That summer, I learned all about guns, the history of the IRA, why they hate, and what they expect of me.”

  “What do they expect?”

  “They expect me to replace my father as head of US operations and raise money through gun sales, prostitution, drugs, and other illegal endeavors.”

  “Is that what you want to do?”

  I stare out the window, wishing the floozy was out across the street so I could use her as a chance to change the subject, but no such luck. I summon my courage, knowing it’s time to rip off the Band-Aid and tell Bash the whole truth.

  “When I finished law school, I was summoned to Ireland to meet w
ith the other generals. A few were my peers, who had taken over for their fathers, but most were my father’s peers. They wanted me to take over then, and they gave me three months to prepare. But I wasn’t ready to lose my life to a cause I don’t have any passion for. So, I came back to San Francisco and worked with Jim. He helped me broker a deal to let my dad continue doing the job from his jail cell.”

  I take a deep breath. “But my time will be up when my father dies. If I don’t take the job, I think they’ll kill me.”

  “You can’t tell them you’re not interested?”

  “They don’t work that way. You’re born into this. Even if you don’t want it.”

  “That’s why the FBI goes after you so hard.”

  I nod.

  “And you’re not going to fight this?”

  “I tried after law school. The guy I was dating at the time was killed. I can’t let anything happen to you,” I choke. Fighting back tears, I stand and walk to the bedroom. I’ll call a rideshare to take me and my clothes back to the office. I’ll need to get a big car.

  “Where are you going?” Bash calls after me.

  “I’ll move into my office for now. Do you think Jim might let me borrow one of the Suburbans?”

  “No—I mean, of course he’d let you, but you can’t leave.”

  I come back down the hall. “Now that you know the truth, I can’t stay either.”

  Bash clenches his hands into fists. “Why not?”

  Did he not hear me say my last boyfriend was killed? “I’m a black widow is why not.”

  He shakes his head. “We’ve got to find a way to fix this. I know Jim is headed out of town, but maybe he can help broker another deal for you.”

  “He needs to concentrate on Kate, not my drama.”

  He takes my hands and wait for me to look at himme. “Fiona, I know we’ve only been together for a short time, but you’ve turned my world upside down—in a good way. I’ve never let a woman spend the night. I’ve never trusted a woman enough to have sex without a condom. I love what we do when we’re naked—you’re so not plain vanilla like you think you are. I love the little noises you make when you’re sleeping. I love that you pitched in after my company holiday party without any complaints or grumbling. You look sexy as hell in your underwear. And I know without a doubt that I love you.”

  I smile and looks up at him. “You’re in love with me?”

  “I love you, Fiona McPhee.”

  “I love you too, Sebastian Pontius.”

  “We’re going to figure this out. I’ve been around the block a few times, and I have some ideas. If you don’t want your dad’s job, that’s fantastic, because I think you’re pretty awesome at the job you have already.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “Good. I completely understand your concerns, but I also refuse to believe there’s no way around this. The world is a changing place. Even the IRA has to see that. One way or another we’ll figure this out. Together, okay?”

  “I—” I don’t even know how to form a coherent sentence right now. I never imagined he would react like this.

  “I understand this is a lot,” he continues when I remain stunned silent. “Maybe you need a little time to think. But while you’re doing that, can we get naked now?”

  My heart pounds as Bash leans down to kiss me. He seems so confident. Is it possible that he has what it takes to protect me—and really, to protect himself—from the IRA? He’s unlike any man I’ve ever been with… I want to believe him… He stares into my eyes for a second and then touches his lips to mine. It’s a soft kiss, but aggressive. His tongue seeks entry into my mouth. I put my arms around his neck, pull him tight against me, and kiss back. The tingle I crave races to my knees, back up my spine, and leaves me breathless.

  Bash cradles me carefully in his arms and kisses me again. I feel safe with him, and I know he’s going to do everything he can to help me. I don’t know if it will be enough, but for now I abandon myself to him—to his soft lips and the gentle caress of his hands on my back.

  “Let’s give my neighbor something to see,” he murmurs.

  “You’re so bad!”

  We walk down the hallway and stand beside the bed in each other’s arms. I press my cheek to Bash’s chest as he feels for the zipper in the back of my leather dress and slips it down. I shiver as his warm hands caress my back. He starts to slip the dress from my shoulders, but I reach for his hand to stop him.

  “It has to come off over my head.”

  “I should know that.” He kisses my exposed shoulder, and I lift the hem of the dress and pull it up.

  Bash always watches me breathlessly, as if this is the first time I’ve revealed my body to him. I toss the garment in the chair beside the bed, feeling suddenly unsure. This whole night has been overwhelming. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”

  “Never. You’re beautiful with or without clothes, but I do prefer you naked just for me.”

  “I always aim to please.”

  Bash slips off his sweater and wrestles his jeans to the floor. He reaches for me, and I snuggle into his warmth. He kisses me with raw passion, sucking gently and nibbling at my bottom lip. The tingle starts all over again. It turns my nipples into firm nubs that press against the warm leather of my bra, then races to the soft cleft between my thighs, leaving me warm and wet.

  Bash runs his hands over my back, down to my waist, and over my hips. He lightly squeezes each cheek, then cups them in his hands. His fingertips caress the crease between my hips and thighs, and I’m on fire. My need for Bash overtakes me.

  My only thought is that I want—no, I desperately need him to make love to me. I need to feel him inside me, to feel his weight pressing my breasts flat between us, and feel his hands moving over my body. He wants to stand by me, stay by my side as we figure out my future, and I didn’t realize how wonderful that was going to feel. I never dreamed it was possible.

  Bash unhooks my bra, and I let it slip from my shoulders. He slides my thong over my hips and pulls me into him. My breasts mash into the firm muscles of his chest and the heat of his body.

  I feel for the waistband of his boxer briefs, hook my thumbs under it, and yank them from his hips. His stiff cock bounces free and presses into my mound. I find him and gently squeeze. Bash groans. I stroke his length and feel his cock swell larger in my hand.

  “Do you like it when I do this?” I ask.

  Bash can only nod his pleasure.

  When he slips a hand between us and cups my breast, his fingertips brush over my taut nipple, and I gasp. There’s an exquisite tightening in my core.

  “Do you like it when I do this?” he teases.

  He watches me carefully as he pinches, twists, and pulls.

  “Very much,” I breathe.

  I stand naked before the window. His hands roam over my body, squeezing here, stroking there, and setting my body aflame with need. His hands are magic.

  Each time he comes close to my center, I lift my hips and unconsciously spread my thighs to give him access. His fingertip slips between the folds of my sex and slowly circles my clit. I moan. He’s slow and methodical. Each time he brings me close, he backs off.

  I find his cock and stroke its length. It’s so soft, yet so hard. I cradle his balls and roll them gently, feeling their weight. The only motion in the entire loft is my thumb moving back and forth, stroking underneath his cock where it meets his balls. Bash groans again and slips his finger inside me while his thumb strums my clit. I arch into his hand.

  “I think we have an audience,” he murmurs.

  I pull Bash’s lips to mine and my tongue probes his mouth. I look, and her eyes are on us. Usually I like to watch, but today our love can be on display.

  I watch her watching as surges of sensation race through my body, as Bash’s fingers furiously pivot in and out of me.

  I rock my hips in response. “Please,” I beg. “I want you inside me.”

  Bash gives me a wicked smile.
He loves when I beg.

  He picks me up and holds me against the window as he pushes inside me and stretches me wider than he ever has before. I gasp. The ridge of the head hits that spot inside me perfectly.

  I close my eyes, bury my face in his shoulder, and wrap my arms around his back. I take in this moment, wanting to remember it even if somehow this still ends up being the last time we get to do this.

  Bash quickens his pace. He searches for my breast and tweaks the nipple, causing me to shudder. Then he finds my clit. I arch off the window when he touches the tip and begins rubbing in small circles.

  We’re a writhing mass of passion, each moving in response to the other, and each grasping for that final peak of blinding, gasping bliss. I’m first to cry out and shudder. The rapid thrusts of my hips and the raking of my nails across his back force Bash over the edge.

  He presses deeply into my body. I cry out a second time and nearly squeeze the breath from him as I ride out wave after wave of my orgasm. Bash thrusts slowly into me as we savor the last moments of our high until the tiny ripples die away.

  His neighbor smiles and walks away from her window.

  He kisses my forehead. “She now knows I belong to only you.”

  “How about some dessert?” I offer.

  “As long as you’re on the menu.” He smiles. “And tomorrow we’ll have someone here to measure the windows for some coverings.”

  Chapter 24

  Bash

  Fiona is out the door first thing for a breakfast she’s scheduled with Walker and Marci. In the quiet she leaves behind, I go over everything she revealed last night and the predicament it’s created for her. No matter what she thinks, I’m not going to run away, and I hope I’ve convinced her of that. As I listened to her sleep in my arms last night, I knew that no matter what, I would stick with her.

  Now I just need to show her that.

  I text Jim.

  Me: Do we still have that client with the Sikorsky helicopter?

  Jim: Yes. What’s up?

  Me: Fiona came clean. I thought I might pull some strings and meet with her dad up in Atwater, but I want to be back ASAP because we’re slammed.