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“I couldn’t. I wasn’t there on official business,” he said, shutting the door, “but on a hunch based on information I picked up from a federal wiretap.”
He explained how he lured the security guy away with a phony emergency, making it easy for him to sneak inside the building. I didn’t want to dent his ego by telling him that wasn’t hard to do. The guard welcomed any excuse to take a smoke break.
“I had to make you believe I was a thief to cover my tracks,” he said.
“Then why did you tell them I didn’t know who you were when I slammed you on the back of the head?” I asked.
“Orange isn’t your color,” he said, looking me over with a you-are-so-hot smile. “Besides, I like you.”
“I don’t believe you,” I shot back.
“Why not?”
“Lying is part of your job.” I pushed his jacket off my shoulders. A heated flash of anger raced through me. I wasn’t going to fall for his sexy, smoldering look, trying to make me believe he was into me. I wasn’t fooled. We were on his turf now. “You’re good at it, too.”
“So I’ve been told.” He looked away from me, staring at the two-way mirror as if he could see his own past. Funny, he didn’t look smug, which surprised me.
“By who?” I asked, more curious than I had a right to be.
“A terrorist.”
“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”
“No, the bastard was threatening to shoot his hostage. A teenage kid he held by the throat.” The federal agent wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, as if the memory left a bitter taste on his tongue.
I looked at him. I saw something disturbing in his eyes when he turned back toward me. I met his stare. “What happened?”
“I shot him.”
Jesus.
“What if you’d missed?” I asked, a sick feeling creeping over me like wet, slimy worms crawling down my cleavage.
“I had to take that chance.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Like I took a chance on you, Pepper.”
“I don’t get it.”
“In my business, you get a sixth sense about people,” Steve said, making me crazy when he began rubbing the back of my neck. “The way you came on to me all sexy and flirty, eager to prove to me you were more than a hot programmer made me wonder if you really were the wild and crazy girl you pretended to be.”
“So what did you find out?” I said, loving his hands on me.
Oh, please, yes, keep going. It felt so good.
“You have a raw hunger in you that cries out to be nourished,” he said, his lips brushing my skin, his mouth possessing me. “But you’re afraid to let yourself go, so you come on strong.”
“You’re no pushover yourself, Steve,” I told him, daring to call him by his first name. If he was going to get personal, so was I.
He relaxed his expression and then his face turned serious again. He held me close to him, his strong arms tight around me, as if he had something to say and wouldn’t let me leave until he said it. “It comes with the job, Pepper. What the public doesn’t see is the anguish you face every time you can’t get a conviction or a hostage situation goes wrong. It eats you up inside, but you go on.”
“What keeps you going?” I asked. I never expected to hear this stuff from him.
“A promise I made to my brother before he died.”
“Yeah?” I pulled away, intrigued. I never had any family except for Cindy. She was like a sister to me. I’d die if anything happened to her. Why was he telling me this? I couldn’t believe I was getting all touchy-feeling with a guy who could have had me fitted for an orange jumpsuit. Only then did I see a pain in his eyes I’d never seen before, a determined resolution in the set of his jaw.
“I joined the Bureau after I got out of the army,” he said.
“You were in Iraq?”
He shook his head. “I served with my unit in Afghanistan after I lost my older brother.”
“You want to talk about it?” I picked up his jacket, slipped it over my shoulders and listened.
“Tom was a two-bit hoodlum. He never had a chance after our old man took off. He started cutting school, using drugs.” Steve paused and then scraped peeling gray paint off the table with his finger. I could see the furniture was repainted over and over with the same iconic shade of gray. As if to dull the pain suffered here. “He taught me everything he knew, but in the end he admitted he was wrong and didn’t want me to follow in his footsteps.”
“What happened?”
“He tried to go straight,” Steve said, clenching his fists, “but he was murdered in a gang attack in our old neighborhood.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Homegrown terrorism is a real threat we can’t ignore, Pepper.”
“So you joined the FBI.”
He acknowledged my comment with a nod. “I hit the streets every day to take down the bad guys so people can go on with their lives, never knowing how close they came to losing that freedom.” He looked at me and I saw the fierceness raging in his eyes, like a primitive animal ready to pounce. I shivered. “I do it for my brother, and for everyone like him who paid the ultimate price.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I wanted to know. This was serious business. Way beyond a little taxpayer like me getting fired. What was his game?
“Because I believe you feel like I do.” He leaned down, so close to my lips, I swore he was going to kiss me. He didn’t. Instead, he shocked the hell out of me when he said, “We need people like you willing to put themselves on the line.”
My mouth dropped open. “You did a background check on me, didn’t you?”
He gave me that half smile of his that made me melt. “I had to make sure you were clean.”
“Then you know I applied to the FBI when I got out of college,” I said, smoothing a strand of loose hair away from my face in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t make it.”
I didn’t clue him in that I lost my nerve and didn’t finish taking the tests after my background came into question. I was afraid they’d find out things about me I decided I no longer wanted to know. It was safer that way. It allowed me to live in a dream world with no responsibility to my past.
I looked again into his face and saw the puzzled expression etched on his features, as if he were waiting for me to explain further. I didn’t. To my relief, he returned to the present situation.
“Now do you understand why I had to get out of the copy room without you knowing who I was?” he said, emphasizing his words. “I was looking for the intel that would explain how Briggs transferred funds to hide his dirty little secret.”
“What secret?”
“High-class call girls.” Steve said. “In Thailand, Hong Kong, Japan.”
I let out a low whistle. “So that’s why he’s so determined to get into the Japanese market.” I paused, thinking, “His office manager said the documents you copied were Mr. Briggs’s tax returns. She was lying.”
He nodded. “I found company bank transactions from years ago, but they weren’t much help. Not surprising. Briggs is a new player in the game. No doubt the woman is privy to his dirty dealings, making me suspect Briggs keeps what I’m looking for hidden in encrypted computer files.”
“Can’t you get a search warrant and seize his financial records?” I asked.
He shook his head, frowning. “It’s not that easy.”
“Really?” I couldn’t imagine the FBI having to ask for permission to do anything.
“Not since a federal judge handed down a decision against keeping NSLs secret—”
“What’s that?” I asked, curious to find an acronym I didn’t know in this world of OMG, LOL and RAT. Remote Access Tools. A bored programmer’s fave pastime. Watching unsuspecting compute
r users doing weird things on their webcam, often sexual in nature. Not me. I preferred my fantasies in the flesh.
Like now.
I reveled in all this spy talk. Wishing we were two agents talking shop.
“NSLs are national security letters,” Steve said, “where the Bureau collects private information on a target, like financial and phone records.” He explained the Bureau found its hands tied with the recent crackdown on issuing such letters. “This operation will be put on ice for years if we can’t gather the evidence we need to build a case against him.”
I wiggled my fanny, knowing I had a secret.
“Not if I can help you get it.”
* * *
A dark, moonless night hid us as we sneaked around the back of the old Victorian house, better known as my former place of employment. I got a cheap thrill up my backside when I showed Steve how to slip through the secret door and his groin nudged my butt cheeks. Even through my sturdy jeans I could feel his rock-hard erection.
Dream on.
Hey, a girl has to take what she can get. All through college, I spent my nights reading a handbook on string-searching algorithms instead of sporting a G-string. I never regretted it until now. I knew nothing about hotness, how to figure into that sexual equation of boy-beds-girl and thereby discover my self-worth. I always thought working hard and using your brain were all you needed to succeed in the corporate world.
Look where it got me.
No doubt I was now on the FBI’s watch list, though Steve assured me no charges would be filed against me if I cooperated with the investigation. That part was cool. What sent my sex-o-meter into a nosedive was that after our heart-to-heart, my new BF was all business. No head rubbing, no shoulder touching.
Nothing.
I kept my hands to myself. Had to. I was on a mission to clear my name and if hacking—I mean looking for a security hole in the company’s computer, Steve’s words, not mine—got the job done, then I was up for it.
Lucky for us, the guard was on foot patrol on the other side of the building. Most likely smoking his favorite blend by the smell of it.
Giving us time to get inside.
“Be careful,” I warned Steve, bending low. “We might not be alone.” I was fearful he might trample a plump, happy cat, snoozing near the door, with his heavy black boots. To my surprise, the kitty was nowhere to be seen except for a series of paw prints tracked inside the house. My heart skipped a beat, hoping nothing had happened to her. The tawny feline was the only one I could trust at my old job.
Steve cut through the narrow passage opposite from the phony window where we’d entered. “Where does that lead?” he asked.
“To the main reception area.”
“Then what? I need to get into Briggs’s computer.”
“Not his computer. His office manager’s.” I told him about the companies I’d spotted in a file on her computer and the offshore locations of the bank transactions associated with them.
“How did you secure the password?” he wanted to know.
“CTI,” I said without missing a beat. “Creative techno intervention.”
“You mean hacking.”
“I call it saving my butt.”
He shook his head, grinning. “You wait here, Pepper, out of danger. You could get hurt if Briggs and the men he’s working for show up.”
“What could be more dangerous than being cornered in a room with you with my pants down?” I asked, following him. I caught a brief glimpse of the copy room with its big machine and cold platen glass. My pubes sent out a text alert. I squeezed my thighs, remembering Steve’s hands on my waist, his hot breath on the back of my neck.
“You never fail to amaze me, Pepper,” he said, making me wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing. After all, what did I know about the art of seduction? I was new at this. I worked two jobs in college and missed spring break when all the girls went au naturel and let the guys lick tequila body shots off their breasts and crotch.
I just smiled and went all computer geek, creeping into Ms. Sims’s office like I was following the yellow brick road. Sitting down at her desk, I slid my fingers over the mouse, squeamish about leaving fingerprints, and turned on her computer. I entered the password and double-clicked on a file, then another. And another.
“Holy shit.”
“What is it, Pepper?”
“There’s not just one file, but two more listing companies I don’t recognize, along with their shipping schedules and banking info. PacWest Comix, Tech-More Digital, Blue Seahorse Software.” I read more names off the computer screen, digging my fingers deep into the pocket of my red plaid flannel shirt.
“So?” Steve asked, leaning over my shoulder. I wished he would cup my breasts, but my FBI hottie wanted answers more than he wanted to cop a feel.
“When I first spotted them, I figured the company was outsourcing work. Now I have my doubts.” I kept digging through the files. “We’d have to write a new video game every week to keep up with the work demand from this many companies. Even I’m not that good.”
Steve chuckled. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Pepper.”
I smiled to myself, secretly pleased at his remark. “I doubt if they’re new customers, either. All our clients are informed on a regular basis about next year’s video games and upcoming marketing strategies.” I opened another file outlining the latest advertising campaign. “I was right. None of these companies are listed here.”
“Most likely they’re shell companies used to transfer funds back and forth.” Steve stood behind me, his hot breath hitting the back of my neck and sending a shiver up and down my spine as he shined his flashlight on the computer screen.
I sat up straighter, enjoying the closeness between us. Pushing my breasts out, hoping he’d get the message. He didn’t. Damn.
“I can’t believe my ex-boss is a crime lord.”
“Most likely he fell in with a syndicate who promised him bigger profits if he played ball with them. Like using his company as a front for illegal money laundering. I’ve no doubt Briggs got in over his head when he started using call girls to transport dirty money to offshore accounts.” He snickered. “Not to mention getting some action on the side.”
I wrinkled my nose. Somehow I couldn’t picture Mr. Briggs getting it on with a cardboard-face bimbo.
“Why would he do it?” I asked, leaning in closer. Steve pretended not to notice. “The company is doing well, our sales figures are up—”
“When a CO starts thinking with his dick instead of his brain,” he said, “chaos follows.”
I couldn’t resist adding, “Do you always think with your brain?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I did.” He rubbed the back of my neck and the cool night air seeped through my flannel shirt. “Transfer these files for me, Pepper,” he said, leaning over me, his face so close to mine the stubble on his chin scraped my skin in a pleasant, sexy way. “I don’t want to get caught in here when the sun comes up.”
“You mean we’re not going to finish what we started over the copier?”
“And have you set off the alarm again?” he said, pinching my butt. “Don’t tempt me.”
“I’m curious,” I asked, trying to change the subject to cover my disappointment. “What do spies do when they finish a job?” I inserted a thumb drive into the computer. “Go to Disneyland?”
He laughed. “Sorry, Pepper, you’ll have to play Sleeping Beauty and lay low while I wrap up the case against Briggs.”
“Any suggestions where I can...lay low?” I burned the files onto the thumb drives and then safely removed them from the computer. I was about to stuff them into my pocket when Steve grabbed them, but not before his hand brushed against my breasts, making me moan.
Thank you, God.
He said, “We’ll discuss that after we get these files into the right hands.”
“Speaking of hands...” I rubbed up against him and ran my hand up and down his thigh. His hard muscle flexed under my fingers, telling me my superman was human after all.
“Do all computer programmers think about sex 24/7?” He kissed the nape of my neck, nuzzling my ear, and then ran his fingers up and down my shoulders. I wanted to fall into his arms with joy when he wrapped his hands around my breasts. My nipples peaked like two peas under a hard mattress. I closed my eyes and then let go with a sigh of unbearable pleasure. I tingled when he unbuttoned my shirt, sliding the flannel off my shoulder and caressing my bare skin.
“I can’t help it,” I whispered, closing my eyes, my whole being alive to the sensation of his lips trailing kisses on the back of my neck. “I work with hard drives all day.”
“Lucky for me,” he said, digging his fingers under my soft, foamy bra cups and working his way up toward my hard nipples. Pinching and twisting my buds and then pulling on them like they were knotted rubber bands. I groaned.
God, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted his fingers in me. Not one, two. Yes, two.
Steve slid his hand down my jeans, making me shiver with delicious anticipation. Yes, closer...closer...oh, yes.
I was floating in a la-la land of happy contractions when I heard angry voices coming from downstairs. I pushed away from him, every nerve in my body alert.
Who the hell was that?
Steve flipped off his flashlight and gestured for me to stay put, but I followed him anyway. I was so not letting him out of my sight. Not with those fingers.
Racing on tiptoe across the corridor, we peeked over the railing and looked down the winding stairway. There below I saw Mr. Briggs and his office manager, Ms. Sims, arguing in the foyer. Then he pushed the button on the creaky, old elevator.
Jesus fricking Christ. We didn’t have much time.
Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the office. Without a word, I turned off the computer. Steve wiped it clean along with the mouse and then we headed for the stairway.
We were too late. The elevator was slow, but not slow enough. The door was opening.