by Chelle Bliss
“Get pregnant and not have the baby?” He raised an eyebrow.
“No. Jesus,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“Let’s start with something easier. What did the first e-mail say and why did you erase it?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I thought it was bullshit. So I just erased it and pretended it never happened.” My chest tightened as I peered up at him. “Promise me you won’t judge me?” I winced.
“Just spill it, Race. I won’t think differently of you, unless you killed someone. We all have a checkered past.”
I looked down at my lap. “I was seeing this guy for about a year. I thought we were in love.” My stomach churned just from thinking about him.
“And?”
“One night we were partying and—God, this is so stupid.” I shook my head, covering my face with my hands. “He convinced me to make a sex video as a memento of our time together.”
“That’s it?” he said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
I dropped my hands as I straightened. “But how many people get a threat that it would be sent to their boss?”
He slapped the desk. “Why didn’t you tell me that? It’s simple. Has to be your ex-boyfriend.”
I shook my head, pursing my lips. “Nope. It’s not him. He died after we graduated. But someone claims to have the video.” I gave a long, low sigh.
“It’s just a job, Race.”
Rubbing my temples, I lifted my head to meet his gaze. “It’s all I have, Morgan. I worked my ass off to get where I am today. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let anyone destroy it.”
“Hmm,” he muttered, rubbing his chin. “Okay. It has to be someone who had access to your ex’s things after he died. Tell me more about him.”
“He was an engineering major, and we met sophomore year. Things between us heated up quickly, and we spent every waking minute together before we broke up at the end of my junior year.”
He stared at me for a moment without speaking, continuing to stroke his chin. “Keep going.”
“His name was Shane. I bumped into him one day while he was waiting for his cousin after class.” I glanced out the office window, thinking about how much easier my life had been then.
“Do you remember his cousin’s name?”
I shook my head, looking up at the ceiling. “They weren’t close. His cousin was a jerk. I want to say it was something like Kyle or Tyler.” I shrugged.
“It’s a start, princess.”
“I’m really sorry,” I said as I blew out a heavy breath. “I wish I could tell you more, but I never spoke to the guy.”
“What happened with Shane? Maybe it’ll help tie everything together.”
I dragged my eyes to him. “I caught him in bed with my best friend. We ended that night. He was the last boyfriend I ever had. Is that good enough?” My cheeks heated as I averted my eyes.
“What a bastard,” he growled. “It’s okay. I’ll see what we can dig up. What was Shane’s last name?” he asked, grabbing his cell phone off his desk.
“McGovern.”
“Hey, Thomas,” Morgan said as he put the phone on his shoulder. “I need you to do some digging if you have time today, or put one of the other guys on it.”
His eyes darted to mine. “Yeah. Race just told me about a possible lead. Dig in to Shane McGovern. He’s deceased, but I think his cousin has something to do with the threats.”
I thought Shane was a nice guy.
I thought he was the one.
It had been six years, and I still hadn’t allowed myself to get involved with anyone. My ability to trust had been completely shattered.
“His name is Tyler or Kyle.”
I stared at him as he spoke, taking a good look at him without being bombarded with questions.
His muscles bulged underneath the sleeves of the clean white dress shirt, which were rolled up, resting against the middle of his forearms. The top of his hair was longer than the sides, a little grown out since his time in the military. The strands were brown in color but verging on black, with each strand in place.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied as I drew my knees together and dragged my eyes to his face. “Sorry. I was thinking about work. What did you ask?”
“I need your account information. I have copies of the emails, but the original messages hold information that’s critical to tracking the source.”
I sank into the chair, crossing my legs. “I don’t give that out to anyone.” God, I needed to get laid, or else I’d be squeezing my legs together every time I met with him.
He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not just anyone.”
I swallowed hard, wishing he’d been an ugly man closer to sixty instead of the man sitting in front of me. “Sorry. My mind is just elsewhere.”
“Haven’t we been over this before? I need the information.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he rested them on the desk. “Why bother hiring me if you won’t trust me enough to do my job?”
“I’m sorry I’m being so difficult.” I shifted in my chair, feeling both horny as hell and uncomfortable.
He sighed, clenching his jaw. “I just want to help you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
I never usually apologized for my behavior, but with him it was starting to become the norm.
I’d honed my bitch skills right after college.
I’d had to.
I’d walked into work the first day filled with happiness and feeling perkier than ever. I’d landed my dream job and was beyond excited. The cold reality of corporate America had slapped me in the face within five minutes.
From that day forward, I’d put on my best resting bitch face and perfected my go-fuck-yourself stare. I’d never let anyone treat me that way again. I’d become the woman I was that day in Morgan’s office. Confident and powerful, and nothing in the world would make me change, including the cocksucker who was trying to blackmail me.
“I promise I will only look at the e-mails that pertain to your case. Your privacy is very important to me, Race.” He spoke in a soothing tone.
I nodded, scooted forward in the chair, and grabbed a pen. On a piece of scrap paper that was lying nearby, I wrote down my e-mail log-in information and the website address he’d need to access the account. “Here,” I said as I pushed it toward him, giving him a weak smile.
“Was that so hard?” he asked with a grin.
I tilted my head to the side. “Be careful, Mr. DeLuca. I can still fire you.”
“But you won’t.” He smirked.
I bit my lip, holding back the comment that sat on the edge of my tongue. I stood quickly, smoothing my skirt. “Call me when you figure out who’s sending the messages, and I’ll handle it from there.”
He hopped to his feet and came around the desk before I made it to the door. “Once I have the name, I’ll be in contact and we’ll decide together the best course of action.”
I stared up at him, my nostrils flaring. God, he smelled so good. I wanted to rub against him and find out if his entire body was as hard as it looked.
I had to snap out of it.
This is business, Race.
“Race?” he asked, touching my arm.
I jerked my arm away. “Call me once you have a name and we’ll discuss it then,” I replied, backing up and bumping into the chair with the backs of my knees. I cleared my throat. “Damn,” I mumbled.
“Would you like me to show you out?”
“No,” I answered, wanting to put some distance between us. I needed to. “Thank you. I know the way.” I turned around, warmth creeping up my chest and neck.
He’d turned me into a clumsy idiot.
“I’ll see you soon, Race,” he called as I walked out.
I didn’t turn around as I closed the door. Then collapsed against it as I bowed my head.
“You okay out there?” he yelled from the other side of the d
oor.
I winced, feeling lightheaded. “Just checking my messages!” I yelled. I pushed off the door and practically jogged out of the building.
When I walked outside, I could smell him still.
Damn it.
I’d have to spend the entire day smelling him, and it would be wasted with fantasies of Morgan DeLuca and his powerful body mingling with mine as I surrendered all control to him.
God, I was so fucked that it wasn’t even funny.
I needed to get to the gym and run off some of the pent-up energy. Being near him had me feel something that I didn’t like to feel.
Vulnerable.
Chapter Seven
The Weekend
Morgan
It was early, and the sun still hung low as it streamed through the trees, casting shadows on the grass. Standing outside, I watched a wild turkey walk through the backyard as I sipped on a cup of coffee and thought about my day.
I went through a checklist of shit I needed to get accomplished. The top of my list: Race True.
It had been a week since our last meeting. I wanted to let her know that I had made headway in her case. I’d e-mailed her last night asking her to meet me tonight.
There were a few assumptions I’d made about Race during our two interactions. She didn’t like to be bossed around, but I wondered if there was ever a time she gave up her control.
Race acted like she didn’t like me much, but I could tell that she did. I’d caught her more times than I could count checking me out.
No matter what came out of her mouth, I knew that her attraction to me was as great as mine was to her.
She was strong, independent, and self-assured, but there was more to her. Something sweet and kind that had been tamped down over time was hidden under the surface.
Something inside me wanted to find out.
Plus, I needed a little fun. I lived in the sticks, and there wasn’t a damn thing to do around here. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was sit by the fire and watch the stars pass overhead again.
I figured I’d meet with Race and see where the night took us. I wanted to dig deeper and find out what made her tick.
My phone chimed as I dumped my coffee into the sink, ready to start the day.
Race: I’ll be there at 5 sharp. Don’t keep me waiting.
I stared at the screen. I’d been waiting since I’d seen her a week ago. The real Race True would reveal herself tonight.
As I climbed into my car, I replied.
Me: Change of plans. Meet me at the Fly Bar around 5. I’ll be waiting for you.
I tossed my phone on the passenger’s seat, revved the engine, and turned the radio up before I pulled away.
I could tell that this was going to be a kickass day and the best way to start the weekend.
* * *
Thomas tossed a file onto his desk and sighed. “We need to hire someone else,” he told James, avoiding eye contact.
James nodded, collapsing on the couch. “You’re right. Any ideas who?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas said, dragging his hands through his hair.
“Morgan, you know anyone?” James asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know anyone around here.”
“The only person I can think of is…” Thomas started, rubbing his chin.
“Don’t,” James warned, waving him off.
Thomas slapped the desk, glaring at James. “Come on, man. So much time has passed. She’s your wife now, for shit’s sake.”
“You know I don’t like him, Thomas.” James wrinkled his nose.
“James, get the fuck over it already. Sam and Izzy are only friends. She’s in love with you, and Sam has a woman.”
“How do you know?” James asked as he sat up.
Thomas kicked his feet up on the desk and reclined in his chair. “We’ve been in contact.”
I looked between them both as they stared each other down. “Um, who the fuck is Sam?”
Thomas glanced at me. “Izzy’s friend,” he replied.
“Her old fuck buddy,” James said, curling his lip.
“Oh.” My mouth fell open.
“I’ll never forgive him for putting her in danger, Thomas.”
Thomas nodded, placing his hands behind his head. “I know, but we wouldn’t have been able to save Angel and Izzy without him.”
“We wouldn’t have had to rescue Izzy if it weren’t for his dumb ass.”
Thomas glared at James. “You wouldn’t be married to Izzy if it weren’t for his mistake.”
A small smile crept across James’s face as he puffed his chest out. “True,” he said as his cheeks filled before he blew out a long breath. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“Stop being such an asshole all the time. Sam has the qualifications, and from what I can tell from his e-mails, he’s not enjoying life in the Big Easy that much,” Thomas said, rocking back and forth as he stared at the ceiling.
I glanced down at my watch. I had one hour until I had to meet Race. The minutes seemed to slow the later in the day it became.
“You said he’s found a woman?” James asked with a wrinkled brow.
“Yeah. He said he’s never been so in love. Her name’s Fiona, and she’s a nurse in the city.”
“Hmm,” James muttered. “Good to know he’s moved on.”
“Are you threatened by him? Think Izzy would leave you for him?” Thomas teased.
“No. Izzy loves me. She knows I’d never let her go without a fight.”
Thomas glanced at him, giving him the evil eye. “If my sister wanted to leave you, I’d make sure she got her way. Remember, I’ll always take my sister’s side.”
“You know I would never hurt her. I love the woman.”
“I’m just sayin’. I love you like a brother, but she’ll always be my sister.”
“Thomas,” James said, throwing a ball of paper at him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“So, are we okay with Sam?” Thomas asked, his face softening.
“If you think we need him.” James sighed.
I pulled another file from the stack, ignoring their conversation. Maybe a little work would make the minutes tick by quicker.
“We do. He’ll be a great addition to the team. Trust me. He’s over Izzy.”
“If you say so. I think Sam and I will have a little chat,” James said, balling up another piece of paper.
“I’m sure everyone will want to have a little talk with him.”
“You know that everyone may have a coronary if you invite him to be part of this business.”
Thomas shook his head, rolling his eyes much like Izzy often did. “Dude, they’ll get the fuck over it just like you.”
James laughed. “Yeah. I’m sure they will,” he said, tossing the paper ball in the air and catching it again. “Make the call and see if you can get him back here, then.”
“I’ll call him over the weekend. I told Angel I’d take her to dinner tonight. We’re making Friday our date night.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt,” James teased, smirking at Thomas.
“What are you doing tonight?” Thomas asked him, changing the subject. “Izzy is probably dying to go out.”
“Oh, we have plans. We’re hitting the club tonight.”
I looked up and caught Thomas glaring at James with his lips set in a firm line.
“James,” Thomas said, sitting upright in the chair as his body grew rigid. “I told you I don’t want to know a damn thing about it. Didn’t I make myself clear?”
“Sometimes it sucks being married to your sister. I can never share the good stuff with you,” James complained with a pained expression.
“You better not be sharing the good stuff with anyone,” Thomas replied, not taking his eyes off James.
“What club?” I asked, interrupting their conversation.
Maybe I could get Race to head over there after the bar tonight. I’d love to see if
she could dance. I hadn’t been to a nightclub since I was too young to drink.
I missed so much shit from having been away for eight years.
“It’s not your type of club,” Thomas said as his eyes slowly moved to mine.
“What type of club is it?”
James chuckled. “It’s not a nightclub.”
“A strip club?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” James said in a clipped tone.
“I’m lost. Swingers club?” I asked, turning around to face him fully. “Tell me you don’t have my cousin sleeping with random dudes?”
“I’d never let anyone touch her but me,” James said, glancing at me before glaring at Thomas.
“Then what? Can someone clue me the fuck in?”
James laughed louder. “Why don’t I walk you out and I’ll tell you. Thomas gets kinda testy when I talk about it.” James rolled off the couch, climbing to his feet.
“Sure, man.”
“Fucker,” Thomas hissed.
“Dude, get the fuck over it, as you said earlier.” James grinned, walking toward the door.
Thomas glared at James’s back as his nostrils flared. “Have a good meeting, Morgan.”
I stood, rubbing the back of my neck. They had such an interesting relationship.
“I’ll see you on Sunday?” I asked.
Thomas glanced at me, finally cracking a smile. “Yeah.”
“Good. I better run before I’m late.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said as he waved me away.
“Sounds like I want to do whatever James is doing,” I replied, seeing the smile drop from his face.
When I turned around, James laughed, holding his stomach. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“He was too damn serious.” I wondered if Thomas was about to march out of the office and smack me upside the head. “So, where are you headed tonight?”
“Well,” he said as we started to walk down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder, “it’s a BDSM club.”
My mouth fell open.
Oh my God. My little cousin was into that stuff?
“Like chains and whips?” I asked, trying to pick my jaw up off the floor.
