by Ava Frost
“You don’t strike me as the diary reading kind of woman.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of man to care where information comes from as long as you have it.”
She had me there. I tilted my head.
“I’m not. I’m the hacking kind.” She said.
I still wasn’t following but, in my opinion, we had all night.
“My sister had an online diary. I hacked it, then read it.” She emphasized then as if it was important to note the reading happened after the hacking. “As for the stalker, I also hacked the security system in our apartment building and the apartment beside ours. There is a man who for the past month has been following me from work and to my apartment. When I’m at work, he follows other tenants inside to do what I assume is surveillance or recon on my apartment. He was also seen in the video the last night I saw my sister. I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Neither did I.
“Can you show us?” I asked.
She nodded once, hard and before I could move, invaded my personal space. Leaning over my shoulder, I could easily see her cleavage. Her body was radiating heat. I looked close, seeing the freckles on her collarbone. It looked like a small constellation. I decided her blurred fingers were a safer view, lest I got caught being a perv.
“There,” she said, leaning back. My computer had several windows open, playing footage of apartment buildings, foliage and cars.
“Where is he?” again, she was in my personal space, adjusting play speeds and then pausing them all to show different angles of his face.
“There,” She repeated.
Hamilton perked up, “how did you do that?”
She turned, taking him in, “hacked.”
He nodded with glee, “I heard you but which program? Is it open sourced?”
“Where’s your computer,” she asked.
“Right here,” he said sliding over for her to see. Without asking for permission, she logged into his computer and did something that caused a series of zeroes and ones to flood the screen.
“Give it ten. It’ll finish uploading.” She said before turning back to me. “I don’t know his name. I’ve never seen him before and I’ve already tried hacking the Pentagon, their stuff is airtight.”
John just shook his head. His moral compass was above hacking or anything that involved not asking for permission, which was ironic, given that we kill the bad guys for a living. There was a moment of silence and an unspoken command to wait for my signal. As I said, I was not keen on family members but this one was in trouble. She also was a sexy, intelligent, thick woman that made my dick twitch. Of course, I had to keep her around, if not to solve her problem, then to solve mine. I never said I was a good man. I’m an alpha and the leader of a pack, that doesn't make me the selfless kind. I found my mate, I wasn’t about to let her go.
“Hamilton, Intel, run the schematics and facial recognition. John set a room in the fortress and” I was cut off by Chloe’s laughter. She was bent over, hands on her knees, breast jiggling with no shame, laughing.
“Do I amuse you, Ms. Lewis?”
She snorted. Her personality was completely unbridled and instead of angering me, it relieved me.
“Yeah. Who the hell lives in a place called The Fortress? You ain’t Superman.” She took a deep breath and righted herself up to stand with her arms folded. This woman was getting under my skin, a hard feat to accomplish and yet the facts were apparent. I stood and strode to her before I could tell my feet, bad idea. She was about 5’7, tall for a woman and shorter than my 6’3 frame. I bent so we were eye to eye.
“You damn right I ain’t nobody’s Superman and you for damn sure ain’t nobody’s damsel in distress.”
She gasped, and we were so close I felt the air shift over my lips. The tension was palpable and she never took her eyes off me. I suddenly felt like falling into her, and my dick was on board with that notion. I stood, erecting myself completely, and in guise, readjusted my manhood.
“John, Fortress. Anthony, get Ms. Lewis a meal.” Everyone jumped to their commands, no questions were necessary. I glanced again at her sweet heart-shaped face. “Are you allergic to anything?” I asked with a less firm tone. She let herself down into my chair.
“Nope.”
And so it was. The lion fell in love with the lamb or something stupid that meant I shouldn’t be doing this but I knew I had no plans to stop.
Chapter 2
***Chloe***
You ever met a whirlwind? I did. He was built like a bear, tall, brawny and had one hell of a roar. It was the sexiest thing this nerd has ever seen. Ian Blackwood of Blackwood Investigations and Security. If I was unsure I was in the right place, I was sure now. We sat side by side, in silence. It felt like we were alone though the man he called Hamilton was hard at work across the room. There were only the clicks of keys and this indescribable tension between Ian and me. He was working, pretending to ignore me. But I saw the stolen glances he took. I don’t have proper people skills. My sister used to joke she dropped me too many times on the head. Regardless, I was blatantly staring at him, etching each detail in my memory. He was a cacophony of hard lines. Flat forehead with bushy eyebrows and eyes that could shoot lasers. His nose was a dramatic drop down with a slight upturn at the end. Even his mouth was set in hard lines, as if he never smiled.
“Do you ever smile?” it was random. I am random. I don’t care.
He didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure if he was a shy or truly just a mysterious figure, who used his words wisely.
“Hamilton, does Ian ever smile?” I yelled across the room. He turned to me, a lopsided grin, he reminded me of a puppy. “Yea. Especially when it comes to food.”
I smiled, I could get used to him. Ian stood, commanding attention without words. “When you’re ready, print what you have and come home. We’re leaving.” He began walking to the door, without a second glance or word to me.
“Save me a slice. Scratch that, at least, 3, you know John eats like an animal.” He laughed at his own inside joke.
“Don’t I always?” Ian responded, the baritone licked up the inside of my thighs. What would it feel like for him to hum on my instrument? I bet he could play my own like I was made for him. While I was lost in my thoughts, Hamilton replied.
“You do. You do. That’s why you’re the boss.”
We were out the door and walking to a black Mercedes. Ian had long, fast strides and I had long legs but extra weight holding me back.
“Slow down jerk. This ain’t a race.”
“And what gives you that impression? Do you want to prolong the finding of your stalker and solving of your sister’s murder?” He slid into the front seat, such grace for a big hulking thing.
I climbed into the passenger side, pausing a moment to catch my breath. “I do but it can wait until tomorrow. And if you weren’t aware, it’s the gentlemanly thing to open doors for ladies.”
The Mercedes was a stick and Ian shifted effortlessly, merging us onto the almost empty highway. “I never professed to be a gentleman,” He said. So dark and moody.
“What’s your deal?” He didn’t respond but raised his eyebrow, which seemed to be his favorite expression replacing speech.
“What’s your problem?” I asked. “You got a stick up your ass or something? Seriously, you a man of little words or you just not speaking to me? I do something to ruin your day? I get it, I’m not the prettiest or the skinniest, but I am nice. I may be a nerd but I know things and I thought” Whoops, almost spilled a little too much there. No need to ramble and certainly, no need to tell him I thought we had a connection. This wasn’t The Bachelor, we just met each other.
“You are beautiful, no one asked you had to be the skinniest or all the other things you listed. You are intelligent, I would never pretend you weren’t. You did nothing, I’m just an asshole, a condition that seems to worsen with age.”
I sat there in shock. “Oh shit! Did you just make a joke?” I exc
laimed. “And that was like what? Four sentences! Have you hit your quota for the day? I’m impressed.” Then he stunned me again, he laughed and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. It was deep and full of joy. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the same place as my sister’s were when she used to laugh.
“I can talk, I just prefer to not. You have two eyes and one mouth Ms. Lewis. I think that was God telling us the importance of observation. I see all, even if I don’t mention it.”
I’m not sure where we went or when we got off the highway. But, we had been driving about 30 minutes without seeing another house. With no blinker or indication that there was another road, he turned down a dirt road. Again, there was nothing to see and the darkness concealed any small domiciles. In the distance, a large structure appeared, growing bigger in size as we drove closer. It was a juxtaposition of open wilderness with a skyscraper like building.
“Ahh, the fortress,” I said, “Home sweet home.”
No response. Oh well, it had been nice while it lasted.
We climbed out and he pressed a code into a huge iron fence. The unspoken message clear: keep out. Then he quickly punched in another code to open the door. The first floor was barren, an illusion as if no one lived here. We boarded the elevator and he pressed the number 9.
“The lunch hall is on the top floor,” He said as we rose in haste.
“Which floor is yours?” I asked happy to get his raised eyebrow in response. “I surmised I’m staying here. Right? That’s what you told John.”
“I told John to clean the fortress. There are things that need to be secured.”
“Would you like your own floor or a separate room?”
“What,” I said in fake awe. “You aren’t bossing me around. I actually get a choice?”
“You are not a prisoner Chloe.” His tone was subdued and tender.
“I would like to stay on your floor. I would feel safer.”
His eyes were soft and his fingers twitched at his side as if he were stopping himself from touching me. “My floor has no spare rooms, just a King sized bed.”
Was he telling the truth? Or finding an excuse to avoid me? It wouldn’t be the first time. No one wants to play with the nerd. “That’s fine.”
“Ok, dinner first,” he said. We were back to him dictating and me following.
The bell chimed and we stepped off into a huge room. To my left was a pool table, the middle held a wide screen on the wall, several couches and behind that was a kitchen similar to something I’ve seen on TV.
“Wow. Somebody loves to cook.”
“Anthony,” He answered.
To the right was an exercise room. I could see through the open door mirrored walls, equipment I didn’t know existed and an unrolled yoga mat.
“And the yoga?”
“John,” he said.
We walked to the kitchen, where several boxes of pizza were stacked. I opened the first three boxes and they were empty. The second was cheese and the third was pepperoni. Ian had taken the liberty of getting us plates. “What would you like to drink?” he said.
“Water is fine.” He poured two glasses from a pitcher.
The counter had stools so we sat there to eat. He inhaled seven slices while I chewed three. The silence was full of contentment. Then in tandem, he washed the dishes while I dried. Something unspoken linked us. He broke down the empty cardboard pizzas while I refrigerated the remaining box. We boarded the elevator and rode to level 2.
“Aren’t you the boss? I asked.
He nodded.
“Then why aren’t you on like the top floor?”
“Because I am the boss.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
He nodded, perhaps predicting my confusion.
“If something were to happen or someone tried to storm the fortress, the first floor they’d search is two. My floor. I am the leader and also the first line of defense. I would die for my team, they are my brothers. If it were a choice between them and me, I chose me. I would stand in the way. Therefore, I live on the second floor.”
It made sense and was also admirable. “For someone so good, why do you carry yourself as if you are bad?”
“Because I am. I am not good Chloe and you should remember that.” the bell chimed, again we entered together.
His floor was expansive. It held a mini kitchen to the left, an entertainment center to the right, behind that was a grand piano and right in front, though much farther back, was his bedroom. We walked towards it, through the archways.
“The bathroom is over there, feel free to use it,” I walked into it, finding an all glass shower, a large old-fashioned bathtub, a closet and a sink.
“It’s beautiful,” I said to myself.
“So are you” he rumbled behind me, scaring me. The gasp gave me away.
He opened the small closet door, “I apologize for frightening you. Here are extra towels, extra soap, and other toiletries. You can use whatever you want.” he spoke softer here. I did not know if it was because he was talking to me or because he was at home. “If you need something, I will be on the couch.” He said before turning to walk out but I grabbed his hand, stopping him.
“I saw your couch, it’s big but not big enough for you. Please sleep with me.” Again, my mouth forgot proper use and I felt the heat of blush on my neck and cheeks. ”I mean, we can sleep together.” Jesus, abort mission. I had to resemble a tomato. “I mean, what I’m trying to say it, don’t sleep on the couch.”
He chuckled at all my mishaps. “OK.” He was gone and I took a moment to collect myself. Why did I never have my shit together? When I stepped out of the bathroom, a wall of sinew was before me. I knew Ian was built, I didn’t know just how built. From his back alone, I knew he must lift serious metal. He could probably bench press three times his weight. He was unzipping his pants and his back flexed to reveal every motion he took. I was mesmerized. Each string in his shoulder blades moved like the strings of a piano, reflecting soundless music to me. He was beautiful and graceful and almost entirely naked. He turned to me, in his boxers. “I am going to shower. Would you prefer to go first?”
“Sure,” I squeaked, caught staring and caught blushing. How would I sleep soundless next to that?
When Ian returned, in his towel alone, water dripping down the little hair he had on his chest and onto his 8 pack, I knew I made the right decision to shower second. I needed a cold shower. Now.
I rushed past him, hoping he wouldn’t see my blush. I took a quick shower, cocooning myself in the scent of Ian I used his shampoo and conditioner while lathering my body up with his black soap. When I came out, there was a shirt folded neatly on the corner of his bed and I could hear soft strains of music. I assumed the shirt was for me and threw it on after putting my wet hair into a messy blond bun.
Chapter 3
*** Ian ***
The piano engulfed me, taking my pain and calming me. Although the shower cleaned my skin, the music cleansed my soul, made me feel whole again. I found myself feeling broken more and more. The closer I came to my last hibernation, the more I felt my beast consuming me. Soon there would be no more me, only the bear inside of me. I loathed that bear, even though, he’d eventually be my savior. Without him, I’d die. But what’s life, if it’s lived as only an animal? Would I remember my past life? Would I mourn the loss of my brothers? My team? Knowing who my mate was wasn’t enough. We had to actually mate. What would Chloe think of me if she knew the truth? It would only work if she loved me back.
“Debussy is great” a soft voice spoke behind me. Chloe looked like a vision, my t-shirt tight on her breast and hanging down grazing her thighs.
“No, don’t stop,” she said walking to sit beside me. “Please?” she asked. Without the glasses, I could see her crystal blue eyes. They looked so clear, like the perfect sky on a sunny day and I knew I couldn’t say no to her. My fingers settled without thought onto the keys. I played Bach and Mozart. As I played, s
he became more and more relaxed, resting her head on my shoulder. I played my favorite, Flight of the Bumblebee.
“I love that song,” she said and so I played it again. It was well into the early morning, going on 2 or 3, so I stopped with finality.
“Time for bed,” I said, standing and gathering her into my arms. She protested, but I carried her anyway. She didn’t weigh anything to me, though, in comparison to other women, I’m sure she’d be considered heavier. I used one hand to pull back the covers and placed her with the intention to walk away. But she grabbed at my arm, mumbling, “With me. With me. You said.”
So I scooped her up again, putting her further in and slid in behind her. I knew she could feel my weight so I turned on my back, waiting for her to go into a deep sleep with the intention to sleep on the couch. But she didn’t let me escape. She turned, snuggling to my side and wrapped her arm around my chest. I looked down at her sleeping face. She looked like an angel, her long eyelashes fanned out, so light the blond almost faded into her skin. She was pale and in the darkness I could make out the loveliest creature I ever saw. This was new for me, but I knew dwelling on it was counterproductive. This would not happen again so I told myself to go to bed. Sleep came swiftly.
When I woke, Chloe was not in my bed. I could smell her on my sheets. Even though she used my soap, her scent was distinct. I rode to the 9th floor, trusting she wouldn’t have gone snooping. The elevator door opened to serenade my nose with breakfast. There she was, tongue stuck out on the side of her mouth, concentrating on flipping bacon. She was still wearing my shirt, I moved in silence to get a better look. The stereo was playing Britney Spears softly, and she was moving her hips to ‘Oops, I Did It Again’. She turned to place more bacon on the plate and almost dropped the pan.
“Jesus Ian! You have got to make more noise!”
I smiled and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. What possessed me to do that, I have no idea.
“Breakfast is almost ready. How would you like your eggs? There are pancakes in the oven.”
