I go ahead and make myself comfortable, but before I can launch into my questions, he holds a hand up. “Hold on,” he says with creased eyebrows. “I’ve heard of you. Aren’t you that investigative journalist who has been putting assholes behind bars?”
“Guilty,” I say with a proud smile that has his interest returning. Apparently, this guy is willing to look past the baby bump and wedding band.
“Right, so what are you doing an interview like this for?” he asks very clearly suspiciously.
I let out a frustrated scoff and pull my acting skills into gear. I rub my baby bump, bringing his attention right to it. “Apparently my boss doesn’t approve of my risky project while I’ve got this little guy growing inside me, though, I’m sure he’s just concerned about the premium of his insurance if something were to happen, so until further notice, I’m stuck doing these fluff pieces even though my usual projects are what brings in the most money for the magazine,” I explain. “That and my husband would have a heart attack if I was doing what I really wanted to do.”
“Geez,” he says. “Bad luck for you, but I must agree with your boss. From a business perspective, he was right to bench you.”
“I know,” I agree with a sigh. “Anyway, I should get started. You’re clearly a very busy man and I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
He nods his head and I launch into my questions on his sexy good looks and bachelor status. Doing my best at pretending as though I’m actually interested in his clinical, rehearsed replies. I’m wrapping it up when I go ahead and take a risk. “Mr. Baxter, that concludes my questions for the article, but may I be so bold to ask for a statement?”
“A statement for what?” he asks.
“A colleague of mine is doing a piece on the recent passing of Marco Cincinnati. I’m sure you must have known him quite well,” I state.
“Recent passing?” he asks with concern.
Hmm… curious. Either he truly has no idea or the guy is pulling out his own acting skills. But seriously, how could someone in his position not know about Marco’s passing. It was major news and a would have rocked the construction world.
“Yes, sir. His body was discovered on Saturday morning,” I inform him like the good little girl I am.
He hangs his head. “That’s truly devastating. I have known Marco for quite some time.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you didn’t know, I would have broken the news in a more sensitive way. I apologize.”
He nods his head. “How did he pass?” he asks.
Bingo. Just the question I was hoping for. I watch him closely as I go about my description. “His body was discovered in a brothel. He was highly intoxicated and there was evidence of drug use, though they are still waiting for the toxicology results to determine if he was using.”
He nods his head and I watch as his features remain schooled. No shock, no surprise, no dilation of his pupils. All indicators that this is not news to him and all indicators that there is indeed more to this story. “That’s a shame,” he says putting on an act. “I hadn’t realized he was one for wild partying,” he adds with disapproval.
Liar. There are plenty of news articles that show the two of them out having crazy, wild drunken nights together. All of which include, alcohol, drugs, hookers and DUI’s.
“Of course, well, I better get out of your hair. I have everything I need.”
“Indeed,” he says, getting to his feet. He holds his hand out once again and I reluctantly take it. “It was lovely meeting you, Sophie,” he says.
“Likewise,” I nod. “Thank you for your time this morning.”
With that, I beeline for the door, knowing that without a doubt, I will somehow find my way back into that office. I make my way out to the reception area and find Aimee. “All done?” she asks with a clinical smile.
“I am,” I smile. “The article is going to be great.”
“Oh, wonderful,” she beams as I spy her key card left carelessly on her desk. The idea is in action before it has even fully formed.
“Oh,” I gasp as I double over and clutch onto my stomach in pain.
Her eyes widen in fear. “Is everything ok?” Aimee asks as she comes around the side of her desk and does what little she can to help me.
“It will be,” I pant, pretending to concentrate solely on my breathing. “I get a lot of cramping,” I explain. “Could I trouble you for some water?”
“Of course, of course,” she says before rushing around the office, desperate to help the needy, pregnant woman.
The moment she turns her back, I make my move and swipe the key card straight off her desk before sliding it into my purse. I make myself comfortable on the couch opposite her desk and put on a show of rubbing my stomach as I wait for her to return. She comes back moments later with a glass tumbler filled with frosty water. “Thank you so much,” I say graciously as I take the glass from her and sip the water.
“No problem at all,” she says gently placing a hand on my shoulder. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, much, thank you,” I say. “It happens at the worst of times.”
“I can only imagine.”
I give her a friendly smile before getting back to my feet. “May I ask where the nearest bathroom is? This baby likes to use my bladder as a squeeze toy,” I tell her.
She gives me a fond, knowing smile and points out the closest bathroom. I thank her once again and get on my way, ready to put this plan into action.
I walk into the bathroom and go up and down the aisle twice before declaring the coast is clear. I look up at the roof and find the little smoke detector right above the sink.
Excellent.
With a grin, I search through my bag and find my trusty lighter. I remember when I had first bought it and Dani said it would be a waste of money seeing as though I don’t smoke, but I was really into having those flaming shots at the time, so I’ve never once regretted buying this bad boy, especially now.
I place my handbag down on the counter and do my best to hoist myself up. I latch onto the mirror as best I can, not wanting to fall as I grab some paper towel off the counter and hold it to the lighter. The flames catch instantly and I quickly look back at the door, knowing now would be a really bad time for someone to come in.
I hold the paper towel up to the smoke detector and let it do its thing.
Shit, this is probably one of those things Tank would kill me for doing.
I listen out and just as I had hoped, I hear the magical sound of the fire alarm starting up. I drop the flaming paper towel down into the sink and reach down to turn on the tap. The second the fire is out, I scramble off the counter while being as careful as possible before rushing into a stall and hiding.
I hear the people outside the bathroom groaning and fussing about as they jump straight into their evacuation procedure. I can’t help but grin to myself at my quick thinking. I mean, this is a pretty epic plan.
I hear Christian Baxter’s voice outside the bathroom. “This is the fourth time this month,” he snaps. “Organise for someone to replace the system.”
“Yes, sir,” I hear Aimee respond.
“Grab your things,” he demands as the jerk I knew he would be out of the public eye. “You’ll have to re-schedule my video conference for a lunch appointment. Who knows how long this waste of time will take.”
“Yes, sir,” Aimee stutters out again, making me feel a little bad for the poor girl. I mean, she’s doing everything for this guy, the least he could be is a little friendly. I know if I was working for him, I would have told him to shove it ages ago.
The noise coming from outside the bathroom starts to dwindle down, but I wait a few extra minutes just in case. I pull my phone out of my bag and find a voicemail message and an unread text message. I read the text first and feel a bit bad when I notice it’s Tank checking in and I didn’t respond. Then I listen to the voicemail.
“Babe, Crazy Jill messaged, so it’s on tonight. You be
tter be ready. Call me back when you can.”
I close my eyes as I listen to his voice. Even after all this time the guy still affects me and makes me feel like a horny teenager. I grin at his message. That Crazy Jill is so annoying, in fact, all the women who are pining for my husband are annoying, but she’s like an extra special dose of annoying. I mean, get the picture already. He’s happily married with a baby on the way. He isn’t interested.
But then, the little bets we have, have made for some very interesting nights together. My favorite being ‘Naked cooking night’. The deal is, we have to guess how many days until Crazy Jill will bug Tank and whoever is the closest wins, loser has to cook dinner in nudey rudey. And as usual, I won this round, so I get to watch my extremely sexy husband, strutting around the kitchen like a damn God.
Fuck yes.
I quickly type out a text.
Sophie – Hey handsome. I’m already thinking about the kitchen counter, actually, I’m not sure I’ll make it to the kitchen counter. I’m just finishing up work, I’ll be home within the hour. Love you.
Tank – I can’t fucking wait. I’m in the gym, I won’t be long.
With a grin, I tuck my phone into the pocket of my jeans and quietly tiptoe to the door of the bathroom. I stick my head out the door and look up and down the hallway.
The coast is clear.
I slip out of the bathroom, putting my hair up the same way Aimee had hers and steal her jacket off the back of her chair. I pull it on and walk through the office with my head down, making myself look as much like Aimee as possible, just in case there are any cameras or if some rebels decided to stay behind during the evacuation.
Pulling the key card from my purse, I swipe myself into Christian Baxter’s office feeling like a god damn mastermind. I rush around the office with my head down, making sure to go as quickly as possible as I actually have no idea how long this evacuation should take. I find the filing cabinet I had searched out earlier and get to work, only it’s all your typical construction shit with lists upon lists of clients.
I move on to his desk and notice his bottom drawer is locked. I search through the office as quickly as I can, searching out this little key. I head over to his bookshelf and find a photo frame of him with two older people who must be his money bags parents. I lift up the frame and grin as I find a shiny little silver key.
I race over to the desk and slide it in, grinning as the key swiftly unlocks the drawer. I open it up and sure enough, there are four other files, all with the names of the four other leading construction companies.
Fucking bingo.
I flick through them as quickly as possible, taking quick snapshots of each slip of paper on my phone before placing each file back in the drawer in the exact same position I had found it. I look over Christian’s desk once again as the alarm comes to a stop. Shit. I have to get out of here.
I return the key to the shelve and place it under the frame before making my way out of his office and feeling my pocket to make sure I have my phone. After all, come tomorrow, I’m going to be uploading the photos onto my computer and studying each one very carefully.
I make my way back down the hallway, slip off Aimee’s jacket and replace her key card on her desk. I shake out my hair and narrowly escape being caught by the Fire Marshall as I slip into the staircase and start making my way down the 38 flights of stairs.
My legs ache by the time I reach the bottom and I do my best to blend in with the rest of the people, desperately keeping my eyes open for Christian or Aimee, not wanting to be seen.
I manage to slip across the road and finally come to the safety of my car before jumping in and speeding away.
Wow, I can’t believe I just pulled that shit off.
Chapter 6
Tank
I get home just after four in the afternoon and as usual, I push open the door, drop my bag at my feet, and kick off my shoes.
I look up as I step into our home and stop dead in my tracks as my magnificent wife stands before me in nothing but black lingerie. I slowly walk towards her, watching as her eyes flame with need.
Hell fucking yes.
My eyes travel up and down her lean body starting at the long blonde hair, down past her soft neck, to her breasts which sit perfectly plumped in a black lacy bra. My eyes continue down past that incredible bump to the tiniest black thong which has me wanting to tear it from her body with my teeth.
Her thong has the sexiest suspenders connected to her thigh high stockings and to finish it off, the black high heels which make those long legs of hers go on for days.
Holy shit. This woman is amazing.
I hit the damn jackpot with Sophie. The day I saw her in the gym doing her squats is still, to this day, the best day of my life, well right after our wedding day. After five years together, she still drives me crazy and yet it somehow gets better and better every day.
I continue walking slowly towards her and watch as she licks her lips in anticipation. My hand comes to my belt as my eyes bore into hers with incredible need. My belt comes free as my hand pops the button on my jeans.
“What’s this for?” I ask as I finally reach her.
Her hands come up and slide up under my shirt before pressing into my chest, feeling the hard ridges of muscles under her fingers. My hands come down on her soft body, roaming up and down as I take in the feel of the barely there fabric on her skin. “I couldn’t wait for dinner,” she murmurs as she begins lifting my shirt.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
I help her to lift my shirt the rest of the way as I watch her eyes greedily take me in. I step into her personal space and press my lips to her neck. “Mmmm,” she moans. “It never gets old.”
Too fucking right.
Her petite hand slips into my pants and before I know it, she pulls me out and wraps her tight little fist around me. Fuck, yes, this is just what I need. She starts pumping her fist and I groan in satisfaction. I’ve been with many women, all before I met Sophie, and I swear, not one of them could affect me the way Sophie does. She’s like a damn firecracker, always ready to go off.
My hands roam over her perfect body when she gives me a cheeky as fuck look then drops to her knees before me. Did I mention my woman is perfect?
She looks up at me with those big eyes before making a show of licking her lips and spreading her knees as wide as possible. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she leans forward and takes me in her mouth like a damn pro.
She drives me right to the edge, but I’m not ready for it to end here. I grab her under her arms and hoist her to her feet before turning her around and bending her at the waist. Her hands catch on the wall to hold her steady as that perfect ass looks up at me. I can’t help but give it a good spanking and grin as she lets out a gasp and pushes her ass back into me, begging for more.
I fist my cock as my other hand finds her center. Even through her thong, I can feel she’s soaking wet and ready for me. I move the flimsy fabric out of my way and plunge my fingers into her slick heat. She cries out for more and I do just that.
“I need you inside me,” she pants as she presses her ass into me, causing my fingers to deepen with her. Using my thumb, I press it to her ass and grin as she groans in need.
“You sure, baby?” I question. “Seems like you’re enjoying this.”
“Tank,” she warns. “You better fuck me now or I’m going to do it myself.”
Yeah, fucking firecracker. I don’t need to be told twice. I step up close behind her and guide myself to her entrance, then with one swift thrust, I plunge deep within her.
She lets out a moan and my fingers tighten on her hips. Fucking perfection.
I start to move and she pushes back into me, still wanting more. I’m not one to disappoint, so I give her exactly what she needs while being careful not to be too rough with her. My hand winds around to her clit and begins rubbing tight, little circles and she screams out as I pound away, each of us in our own world of pure ecstasy.
<
br /> “I’m going to come,” she warns.
“You’re going to more than come,” I tell her. “You’ll wait until you explode.”
“Fuck,” she cries as I continue on to pound town. I can just imagine her clenching her eyes, concentrating on holding out. “I can’t,” she says as she lets out a groan. I feel her come around me as her walls clench down on my cock, which is just enough to finish me off.
I still as I pour myself into her and she straightens herself up so her back is pressed firmly against my chest. My hands wind around her body, one latching onto her breast while the other circles our son. “I love you so goddamn much,” I tell her as my lips press down on her neck.
“I love you, too,” she murmurs as she turns her head to catch my lips in hers.
“You want to explain what that surprise was about?” I ask as she turns around. I pick her up and she wraps her legs around my waist as I walk her into the bathroom to help clean her up.
“I had a really good day,” she tells me, then goes on about how she’s investigating the deaths of those CEO’s and all the adventures of her day.
“You’re telling me you set off a fake fire alarm, broke in and entered, impersonated someone and stole documentation?” I question.
“Yep,” she says proudly.
“Should you really be doing all this?” I ask, bringing up the old argument. “You could have hurt yourself. You need to slow down, you’re five months pregnant.”
“I know,” she admits. “I’m kind of hoping there’s something in the documents I found. So, I’ll be at the office the rest of the week.”
“Good,” I smile in relief. The last thing we need is her exhausting herself. I mean, she’s growing a child inside her. I know she likes to think she’s super woman, and yes, half the time she is, but reality says otherwise.
“I got to use my lighter,” she grins, changing the topic
“What?” I grunt as she hops off the bathroom counter. “I thought that was only to be used for shots?”
She smirks up at me with laughter in her eyes. “It was important. I had to use it.”
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