He crossed to the desk and hooked his phone up to the charging cable, surreptitiously checking his laptop for any new notifications.
Nothing.
“Anything with meat.” The bed squeaked behind him.
It took effort, but he kept his mind on pizza and not hot, sweaty bed activities.
Asshole.
“Meat lover good with you?” he asked.
Don’t think about your dick, dude.
“Does it come with extra meat?” She chuckled. “Come on, low hanging fruit joke.”
He glanced back at Andrea curled up on her side, one white, fluffy pillow under her head.
Imp.
She was a mischievous imp.
And someone wanted to hurt her. To scare her. To violate her privacy.
“I was restraining myself. I’ll throw in some breadsticks and stuff, too.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Order is in.” He straightened and turned to face her, bracing himself for the kick of lust.
Andrea studied him, one arm curled under her head, her expression thoughtful.
Ah, there it was. Attraction. At least on his side.
“What would it normally cost to hire you?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Zain crossed to the low dresser across from her and perched on the edge.
“Now you’re lying.”
“People don’t hire me. They hire the company.”
Her gaze narrowed as he spoke and she licked her lips. One side of her face scrunched up. She’d be a terrible poker player. Her face was too expressive, too open.
It was refreshing.
“But...Zain, you can’t help me for just a quarter. It’s not fair.”
“I don’t expect you to pay me.”
“Why?”
Because you’re...you...
“I was a SEAL to keep people safe. Sometimes that means doing a good deed for free.”
“Was that how you lost your arm? In the SEALs? I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” She covered her hand with her mouth.
“You did.”
“I’m sorry, that was a totally rude thing to ask.”
“Everyone asks, eventually.” He shrugged. It was a fact, a bullet point in his history, not a period. Not an end. He’d lived. “There was an IED. My arm got trapped under a chunk of a Hummer and they couldn’t save it.”
“They saved you, though.”
“Yeah. They did.”
“I’m glad. And I’m sorry for asking like that. I just...blurt things out sometimes before I think about it, and I ramble and I know I do it and—”
“Andrea?”
“Yes?” She cringed.
“It’s okay.” He chuckled. She was so damn cute.
Zain crossed to the other queen bed and sat on the edge, facing her. He needed to keep his distance. She was too young and innocent for the likes of him. There had to be at least eight years difference between their ages. There were plenty of other guys out there, nice guys, for her to be with. Later. After he ensured her safety. For now, he could soak up what it was like to be near her. And that was it.
“Okay, one more question and then I promise to keep it all in my head.”
“Shoot.”
“I never got to hear how your arm works.” She pushed up into a sitting position, legs crossed under her. The damn tank top slipped, showing off the edge of her white bra. “I’m totally fascinated, I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s all good.”
A safe topic. Something he could talk about without the moral danger that was Andrea. He held out his left arm and worked the sleeve up over his shoulder with his right hand.
“The arm was made to fit me here. I just slip my arm in, fasten it, and it stays in place. I have more natural mobility because they amputated below the joint, otherwise I’d need a completely mechanical joint to compensate. There are wires that attach to sensors on my back. That’s how I control the hand. They’re pretty delicate, so I have to be careful someone doesn’t move them. They aren’t water or sweat proof, but the design is getting better and better with every model.” He wiggled his fingers at her and she grinned. “There’s a battery pack hooked on my belt that runs the whole thing.”
“And you said it’s a gaming arm? How does that work?”
“It’s not perfected yet, but basically there are sensors in the palm, here.” He pointed at little grips along the digits and palm. “The idea is you hold the controller and the sensors pick up the vibrations and relay them back by tiny electric impulses through the sensors on my back. There’s a delay they’re close to working out, but it’s the first time I’ve been able to use a controller or type two-handed since...well, since I had two hands.” Not to mention he could feel other things with the hand, too. Like her fingers, the way she’d held onto him without a conscious awareness that the hand wasn’t real.
“That is so neat. It looks really cool, too.” She ran her hands through her hair. “You know what? I don’t even think of it as being a...fake...arm. I sort of forgot all about it.”
“Most people do after a while.”
She bit her lip and her gaze slid away.
“Ask me.” He was actually enjoying her questions. There was a marked difference between her innocent curiosity and the bumbling questions of strangers.
“No, it’s not a good question.”
“Just ask me.”
“I don’t know how to put it into words.”
“Try.”
“Fine.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Just...are you angry about it? Like, do you...I don’t know.”
“It happened a long time ago. Yeah, there was a time when I was pretty bitter and pissed off about life, but not anymore. I got to a point and...either I was going to go down a dark hole and die, or things were going to change.”
“How’d you make that change?”
“I got a phone call from a guy I knew in the SEALs. He wanted to start this crazy little company called Aegis Group.” His connections hadn’t hurt either. All in all, the company had saved his life. Filled that hole with a purpose to keep going.
“Wow. Just—wow.” She shook her head.
“I know you probably don’t want to think about any of it, but I need to ask you some questions.”
Andrea groaned. She wasn’t nearly as tipsy as she thought she was. A good bit of the alcohol had probably burned off in anger and searching out stacks of fliers.
“You want to do this now or should we wait?” he asked.
“Go on. Ask.” She hugged the pillow to her chest, her expression sad.
“What kind of security are you running?”
“Out of the box stuff. Nothing fancy. I’ve never had to.” She shrugged.
“What about the Internet at your office and home?”
“The office is supposed to be ultra-secure. Are you sure it happened there?”
“It’s a hunch.”
“Okay. So. It would take way too much effort to breech the firewall at the office. Enough that someone would notice.” She stared at the comforter, eyes slowly widening.
She knew.
He hated this for her.
Not being able to trust your friends...your coworkers...he’d never had that, but his cousin had. The experience, the betrayal, had made Mason a wreck for a while.
“You think it’s someone I work with.” Andrea didn’t look at him.
“It’s a possibility.”
“No,” she snapped, her gaze on him now. “It couldn’t be someone outside, it would be too hard, and why just spy on me? Why not steal something worth money? Which means it’s someone who works for Dark Matter. They’d have access to my office, my laptop, my phone—everything. I’m horrible about leaving things unlocked and lying around. It’s someone I work with.”
Well, that cat was out of the bag.
“Can you think of someone—anyone—who’d have a beef with you? Maybe someone who didn’t like the new game? Or wanted your job?”
“That’s a very long list.” She slumped. “It would be easier to ask who liked the game and who didn’t want my job? Pretty much everyone at some point has had an issue with the project, but I thought...I thought wrong. Clearly.”
“It’s one person.”
“If it’s one, why can’t it be five?”
Zain wanted to comfort her, he was giving her the same lines he’d hand out to any other client—and she wasn’t taking them. Andrea was too smart to be duped into a false sense of security.
“All right. You want to know what I think?” If lying hadn’t worked—he’d give it to her straight.
“Please.”
“The camera angle is up high. Do you keep your laptop on a shelf?”
“What? No. It’s usually on the credenza.”
“Are there security cameras in the building?”
“Yeah, but...” Andrea’s shoulders slumped. “They installed it ages ago. I forget it’s there. It’s supposed to be closed-circuit, unrecorded. I put a sticky note over the camera a long time ago, but you know? I’d never even think to look at it. Anyone on the network with hacking skills could probably access the feed. Anyone.”
“I’ll get with Miranda. Get employee records.”
“It’s someone I know.”
He should stay away. She was strong. She’d pull herself together.
Then why was he moving, sitting next to her? It was like his better judgment was now a backseat observer to his more reckless self.
Zain pulled her almost into his lap and held her. Because it felt right and she was alone. Because he knew how tough it could be on clients to go through these betrayals. But mostly because he couldn’t take any more of her tears.
This was going to go very, very wrong.
Speckle’s text was a single emoji. A thumbs up.
Well, what did he expect? It wasn’t as if this was Kevin’s first time ruining someone’s life. He’d learned an awful lot about how to do it right since they’d offed their parents.
Kevin checked the back part of the suite. Everywhere people were clustered, chatting, laughing. It was a fairly average party. Nothing they’d be talking about tomorrow—except the fliers.
Which were now gone.
But they’d done their job. And more would be in circulation tomorrow. He was practically guaranteed that it would be whispered about in all corners of the con. The D7 game had put Andrea’s face out there, and now so would the rest of her. Teach her to trash up a perfectly good game. Speckles had worked far too hard on them for a stupid woman to go and ruin a good franchise.
All in all, it was a good night’s work.
He checked his watch. The whole plan had unfolded much faster than anticipated. The idiots he’d hired to do the handouts had outdone themselves. It was amazing how much hatred could motivate some people. Even more than money.
6.
Andrea clung to the slightly-fuzzy feeling clouding her brain. If she were to admit she was merely exhausted instead of drunk, she’d lose her nerve. So long as she could blame these moments on alcohol, she could power through.
Once they’d devoured the pizza and breadsticks, she hadn’t wanted to leave. Or maybe Zain hadn’t wanted to let her go. Either way, they lay in the dark watching Captain America, but she could barely focus on the much-loved movie because of the man next to her.
Zain sat against the headboard, his arm brushing hers every time he breathed or shifted. She didn’t dare move. They’d done a single shot of some pre-packaged, fruity drink thing before the movie started. The new infusion of alcohol had her head buzzing and palms damp within moments. That, or it was just her nerves. Blaming it on the shot was far more convenient.
He was a lot closer than he’d been before the movie began, a fact she couldn’t stop focusing on. She didn’t know if she should sit up, lie down, or remain frozen in an awkward reclining position that was starting to give her a crick in her neck. The worrisome part was his complete silence.
Part of her was shocked she wasn’t more focused on the pictures. The fliers. All of that. But what could she do? The images were out there. She couldn’t stop them. There was no reason to go on agonizing about that when Zain was next to her. Hunky-hot-Captain-America-material, Zain.
Yeah, she had it bad for the guy she’d just met, to the point she couldn’t even pay attention to the movie. Not like she should be, anyway.
In her imagination, she reached over and grabbed Zain with the same tenacity Leia had when she stole a kiss from Luke to get to Han. Andrea wanted to kiss him like that, with all the confidence in the world. Instead, she was completely immobilized by just sitting next to the man.
He glanced down at her, his mouth moving.
Crap. He was speaking to her and she hadn’t heard a word.
“Hm?” Her body flashed hot and cold in ever-shortening increments. The TV cast shadows across Zain’s face, but it could do nothing to hide the intensity in his gaze. Her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth and her nails dug into her palms.
“Andrea?”
“Hm?”
She needed an answer, but her brain slowly mired in mental mud. Her thoughts stopped while her entire focus settled on one thing: Zain’s lips.
He could have blown her off. Taken any of the girls back to his room tonight. Instead, here they were, staring at each other.
Andrea knew what her fear told her to do, but what would Leia do?
She lifted her hand, trembling as though she were hauling a fifty pound weight on her wrist, and cupped Zain’s cheek. She swiped her thumb over the puckered end of the scar and the rasp of his stubble was louder to her ears than the TV audio.
Her intent couldn’t have been clearer, and he wasn’t putting the brakes on.
Zain continued to watch her, his gaze heavy-lidded, lips parted. She watched his tongue slowly slick over his mouth. He could take over, kiss her until she didn’t know her own name, but then again, it wouldn’t cost her anything either. It was easier to be kissed than to kiss.
She leaned closer and he bent his head, angling just right. Her pulse beat in her throat, threatening to cut off her oxygen, but she wasn’t stopping now.
Their lips met in a soft brush of skin. The barest moisture clung to her lips.
Instead of pushing her away, his hand came to rest against her waist, aligning their bodies. He leaned in closer and kissed her again, setting his lips firmly against hers. She inhaled the scent of him, sliding her hand around to cup the back of his head. Need washed over her, so potent her hands trembled. All at once, the kiss took on a new hunger. She slid her tongue past his lips and he dragged her body to his.
Instinct won out and she curled her left thigh over his. She pushed her fingers through the short strands of hair on the back of his head with her left hand and gripped his bicep with her right. Her senses were on overload—from the taste of his kiss, to the scent of his aftershave and the feel of his body against hers. “Wanting” was too tame a word for how her pulse raced for him.
“Andrea.” Her name was a plea.
“Hm?” She kissed his lower lip.
“We...we...”
“Yes.”
“Not that—I mean, not now.” He pulled back, the flickering light of the TV illuminating his face.
Was he saying no? To kissing?
Passion’s flame went out, leaving her cold and aching. She recoiled, drawing her hands against her chest, trying to curl in on herself.
“Andrea.” Zain pinned her to the bed, his body on top of hers.
His breath was warm against her cheek, his mouth so close. She couldn’t control the way her nipples tightened or the desire curling low in her belly. It was almost scary how overwhelming her single-minded want of him consumed her.
But he didn’t want her.
“Forget it.” She pushed at his shoulders.
If they were going to have this conversation, she wanted a little dignity.
“Andrea, I want you.” The single sentence
confession sounded ripped from Zain’s lungs, his breathing ragged. Vulnerable.
She blinked up at him but this time it was all shadows.
Was he serious?
Could someone fake a statement like that?
Probably, but that person wasn’t her.
“Then...” She couldn’t bring herself to speak, to say more.
Zain kissed her cheek and shifted, settling his body over hers, his weight supported on either elbow. Every couple of moments, flashes of red and green light allowed her tiny glimpses of his face.
“Then why am I stopping when all I want to do is peel your clothes off?” His voice had the low, husky tones of arousal dripping off each syllable.
She gulped, but her brain had completely blue-screened. Nothing was firing.
He lowered his face to hers, their lips touching, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She circled his chest, mapping his back with her hands until he broke the kiss.
“You still taste like mango,” he said against her cheek.
“O-oh?” And why was that important?
“We’ve drank way too much to do anything else.”
Was he serious?
Alcohol was the only reason they’d gotten where they were.
Zain continued to frown at her, or she assumed he was frowning. She got the frown-vibe pretty hard from him, even without seeing his face, so it had to carry some strong mojo with it.
“Andrea, say something.” His voice was more of a growl, laced with frustration and the more delicious notes of—need.
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Anything.”
“Anything.”
“Seriously?”
“What? It’s what you told me to say.”
He snorted and dropped his face to the crook of her neck. She stared at the ceiling, her brain on the brink of shorting out again. He nuzzled her shoulder, up to the ticklish spot just under her ear, dropping little kisses here and there.
“Why, exactly, was drinking a bad idea?” She closed her eyes, drunk on the euphoric high of lust.
“Because.”
“Why?”
“You might regret it in the morning.”
“Regret what?” Sex? She was pretty sure Zain would blow any previous experience out of the water and leave her wanting for a very long time. He didn’t strike her as the sort to do anything half-assed.
Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3) Page 6
