The Boyfriend Project

by Farrah Rochon

  She gripped his shoulders and levered herself up on her elbows, then with a strong push, flipped their positions.

  “Can’t a girl get a piece of this action?”

  A stunned smile lit up his face. He held his hands up. “Have at it.”

  Steadying herself with one hand against his tight abdomen, Samiah used the other to guide him inside of her. She tilted her head back, bringing her hands behind her and bracing them on his strong thighs. She rolled her hips back and forth, riding him like her life depended on it.

  They found an addicting rhythm; quick, shallow dips followed by slow, deep plunges. That intoxicating tremor fluttered to life in her belly once again. She tried to stave it off, fought to make this time last a bit longer, but when Daniel clasped her waist and held her down just as he tilted his hips upward and thrust into her, her world once again exploded in a blinding burst of sensations that ricocheted throughout her body.

  She screamed her release toward the ceiling, then collapsed onto his chest.

  “My God,” Samiah breathed. “Do the Marines give out medals for this kind of stuff? Is that why you’re so good at it?”

  She felt his laugh rumbling beneath her cheek.

  She snuggled more securely against him, relishing the feel of his warm skin against her body. She could get used to feeling this replete every night.

  Goodness, where had that come from? It was insane to even begin thinking in terms of lying beside him on a nightly basis.

  But, then again, maybe it wasn’t.

  She knew couples who’d moved in after dating just a few weeks. Hell, look at the people who met on those crazy reality TV shows. Some of them were making it work despite not knowing anything about their significant other beforehand. At least she and Daniel had been together longer than the people on Married at First Sight or 90 Day Fiancé.

  Okay, they hadn’t known each other ninety days yet, but what was another thirty days?

  “Stop it.”

  “What was that?” Daniel asked.

  “Huh? Nothing,” she said. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  She levered herself up, hoping her legs had the strength to carry her the fifteen or so feet. She could picture herself getting out of bed on wobbly legs and collapsing like a newborn colt just learning to walk.

  She made it to the bathroom without injury. When she returned to the bedroom, she found Daniel sitting with his back against the headboard, a deep frown marring his brow as he stared at his phone.

  Samiah stopped short. “Is everything okay?”

  His head jerked up. “What? Uh, yeah,” he said. He set the phone on the bedside table and pulled the cover back, inviting her to join him. Her eyes went straight to the erection that was already growing thick again.

  Her pulse started to pound as excitement skidded across her skin.

  She was going to be so sore in the morning. But she would be satisfied.

  * * *

  The faint scent of the sweet almond body cream Samiah had rubbed into her skin after their shower wafted up from where she rested, snuggled up next to him, her head nestled against his chest. Daniel stared straight ahead, his eyes set on the dove-gray clay pots that looked as if they were floating on air with the way they were lined along the glass display shelf above her chest of drawers.

  His sated body should feel relaxed after a solid hour of starring in American Ninja Warrior: Bedroom Edition with Samiah, but rest continued to elude him. His muscles felt at ease, but his brain was hard at work, conjuring boundless nefarious scenarios ever since he’d read that text from Preston. Another two bank accounts had gone dark, and the subject they’d targeted in Belize had gone missing.

  The window was rapidly closing. If whoever was behind this closed up all the bank accounts they’d been monitoring, tracking them would be almost impossible.

  He had to infiltrate that database. In it lay everything they would need for a capture and conviction. Someone on the Trendsetters side was inflating the number of customers logging into Hughes Hospitality’s free Wi-Fi every month. Even if he wasn’t able to discover who was behind it, getting into their system would give him the raw data on the actual number of logins. Once they were able to show the discrepancy, that would be enough for a court order.

  But none of that would happen if he couldn’t bypass their security and access the damn database.

  Except now he could.

  Daniel sucked in a swift breath, fighting against the wave of nausea that pummeled him. The thought had lingered at the periphery of his conscience since the moment he learned that Samiah’s security access had been changed. He’d quickly banished any notion of using her. This job was important, but it could not come at the expense of hers.

  As he peered down at her face right now, the tension in his shoulders eased by a tiny degree. She was peace and fire and satisfaction and love all rolled into one. He could not do this to her.

  But would he ever have a better chance of getting into that system?

  Weighing the costs of betraying Samiah versus not betraying her was a game he never wanted to play, but he didn’t have the luxury of not playing it. Not anymore. He’d wanted to give himself one more week to infiltrate the Trendsetters licensing database, but now Daniel wasn’t sure he had a week to spare. At the rate those bank accounts were closing, he might not have another twenty-four hours before the money-laundering outfit went completely dark.

  The implications of that happening sent the tension shooting right back into his muscles. At last count, a little over eighteen million dollars had been laundered through the Trendsetters Wi-Fi payment system software. The money had been used to fund a chain of payday loan businesses, but the DHS had put Quentin on the case because they suspected those were just a front for other criminal enterprises. They had to put a stop to it now. Before more money could be funneled. Before more people met with “accidents” like the one Daniel suspected Mike Epsen had.

  There was no question that Mike’s accident was related to this case, not after discovering the man had been on the initial rollout team. The fact that the anonymous tipster had been uncommunicative since the accident only proved that those behind the money-laundering scheme who wanted to silence Epsen had accomplished the mission they’d set out to achieve when they ran him into that city bus.

  But what if their mission had been something more sinister than a broken leg and a few cracked ribs? What if their target who’d gone missing in Belize had met with a more lethal fate? Could Daniel live with himself if, months from now, it was revealed that what they first thought was a simple white-collar case had a much darker side? That the money laundered through Trendsetters’ WiMax software had somehow made it into the hands of a hardened criminal and led to even more crimes?

  And because he hadn’t been able to complete his mission, even more people were harmed? The answer was simple: He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

  This case would haunt him no matter what; the choice before him was one he would give anything not to make. Sacrifice the woman he could very likely see himself falling in love with, or sacrifice the principles that drove every aspect of his career, of his life. Losing either one would send him into his own personal hell. He just had to decide which hell would be worse.

  Daniel closed his eyes. His throat felt raw as he tried to swallow past the anguish clogging it.

  There was no going back from this. If he went through with his plan, it would obliterate any chance he could possibly have with Samiah. She would hate him forever. And he wouldn’t blame her.

  But he had no choice. The stakes were too high.

  Daniel pulled in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He knew what he had to do.

  As gingerly as possible, he slipped his hand underneath Samiah’s head and gently shifted her from his chest to a pillow. She stirred and mumbled something unintelligible, but then she turned her head and, moments later, her soft snore started up again. Daniel slowly eased out of the bed and pulled on th
e sweats he’d left here the last time he’d come over. He padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, heading straight for the counter where Samiah had left her purse.

  He didn’t touch it. For several moments he just stood there staring, and hating himself.

  It didn’t have to go down like this.

  He should come clean to her. Right here, right now. He could reveal the real reason he’d come to Austin, stress the importance of keeping his undercover work under wraps until he could figure out who was behind the money-laundering scheme. He could underscore the potential danger Samiah could face if word ever got out that he wasn’t who everyone at Trendsetters believed him to be.

  And that danger was exactly why Daniel couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t risk her unwittingly divulging classified information. Not only would it put this case in peril; it could possibly put Samiah in danger as well. He didn’t care how tenuous the link between Mike Epsen and that bicycle accident was; the possibility of Samiah suffering the same fate was enough to solidify Daniel’s decision to keep her in the dark. It was better this way.

  He closed his eyes again. Sucked in a breath.

  He reached for the purse and slowly released the teeth on the zipper one by one, pausing several times to listen for any sounds coming from the bedroom. His heart thumped like a drumbeat within his chest as he angled the purse toward the moonlight streaming in from the large windows. The soft glow glinted off the gold chip that ran along the left edge of the green-and-white access card. He slipped the card out and went over to his jacket. He pulled the scanner from the jacket’s inside pocket and inserted Samiah’s keycard. A green light blinked methodically as the device accessed the information on the card.

  In less than two minutes, it was done. The scanner beeped and the green light went from blinking to solid.

  Daniel held his breath, waiting to see if she’d heard the beep. There was no stirring coming from the bedroom. Not a sound.

  He shoved the scanner back into his jacket pocket and slid Samiah’s access card back into her purse. Then he returned to her bedroom and removed the sweatpants, climbing back under the covers naked and wrapping his arms around Samiah’s waist.

  But Daniel knew he wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon.

  Even if she never discovered his betrayal, he knew he would never be able to get past it. With that one move, he’d shattered the trust between them forever.

  He closed his eyes.

  What good would regret and recriminations do him now? He’d had a choice to make and he’d made it. He would just have to learn to live with it, and hope there was some way that Samiah could eventually forgive him. Some way he could learn to eventually forgive himself.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Samiah paused on the sidewalk across the street from the Austin History Center and watched as a team of three carried an enormous framed portrait of lavender fields through the building’s side entrance. It was reminiscent of the sights she’d encountered on a drive through Fredericksburg in the Texas Hill Country last year, the colors so vibrant she could practically smell the fragrant blooms.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Her nostrils met with the aroma of grilling meat from a food cart fighting with the Drakkar Noir one of her fellow Austinites had apparently bathed in before leaving the house. Instead of standing in a field of lavender, she felt as if she were back at her sixth-grade dance, holding her breath as Terrance Johnson sprayed on more of the cologne he’d snuck from his dad’s bathroom cabinet.

  She continued up Guadalupe, the brisk wind blowing off Lady Bird Lake and the warm rays from the early-morning sun making for an invigorating contrast. Normally, on a chilly morning like this one, she would drive the five minutes to work, but when she caught sight of the brilliant blue sky outside her bedroom windows, the thought of confining herself to a car was untenable.

  The gorgeous day matched her gorgeous mood, and she wanted to soak up as much of it as possible. Which was why, despite the fact that she was already a half hour late for work, she’d decided to take a long detour and visit the Italian bakery on Congress Avenue near the golden-domed state capitol. All was forgiven at the job when you brought pastries.

  Samiah turned onto Ninth Street, walking past one of the famed moonlight towers. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, it was one of only fourteen antique towers that remained in the world, all of which were located in Austin. She stopped at the corner of Ninth and Lavaca Streets, and waved at a chubby-faced toddler strapped in the back seat of a minivan waiting at the light, laughing when he waved back.

  It’s when she found herself smiling long after the car with the adorable kid had driven away that Samiah recognized that there was something different about today. Something special. There was a giddiness in the air. A lighthearted exuberance that caused the leaves on the evergreens to appear greener, the brilliant morning sun to seem brighter. Everything she encountered amplified her blissful mood.

  She dipped into the Italian bakery and, after waiting in line for ten minutes, emerged with two dozen zeppole, a dozen biscotti, and a loaf of their signature panettone. Armed with enough food to feed the entire R&D Department, Samiah started down Congress back toward the river and Trendsetters’ offices.

  After six blocks, she turned the corner and stopped short at the sight of all the activity swirling around her building. A crush of bystanders loitered on the sidewalks, their clamorous rumblings accounting for the discordant din she’d heard as she’d approached. She continued toward the building, but her steps faltered when she saw two of Trendsetters’ cybersecurity analysts, Bianca Moody and Doug Spade, being led away in handcuffs. They were followed by Owen Caldwell, the HR director, showcasing his own set of cuffs.

  “What in the hell?” Samiah nearly dropped the pastries.

  She spotted Jamie standing near the receptionist for the law practice on the floor just below theirs. She walked up to the two women.

  “Jamie, what’s going on?” Samiah asked.

  Trendsetters’ receptionist, who looked as stunned as Samiah felt, shook her head. “It’s crazy. I came down to sign for a couple of packages that had been left at the security desk, and the next thing I know, a bunch of men in blue windbreakers stormed into the building. That was a half hour ago.”

  “Are they not letting anyone up to the office?”

  “They are, but everything feels weird up there right now, so I’m hiding out down here.”

  Samiah spotted Daniel, but before she could take a step toward him, one of the men wearing a blue jacket with DHS in thick white block letters on the back walked up to him. Her heart stopped beating. For a second, terror, true and gut-wrenching, rushed through her as she waited for the man to make him turn around so they could cuff him. Instead, the man in the windbreaker began conversing with Daniel as if he knew him.

  A second later, Quentin Romero joined in.

  Samiah took a stunned step back. An uncomfortable chill raced along her skin as she tried to process exactly what was going on.

  Why was his roommate here? And why was Quentin wearing one of those dark blue jackets? And why did Daniel look as if he was running the show instead of being questioned by the law enforcement officer? The sense of authority emanating from him seemed both out of place and weirdly appropriate.

  Confusion intermingled with the panoply of emotions scattering through her brain. Unsure what to make of any of this, Samiah turned in the opposite direction and entered the lobby. As she approached the elevators, she switched both bakery bags to one hand and flashed her green-and-white Trendsetters’ badge with the other, explaining to another set of jacketed DHS personnel where she worked. They allowed her to board the waiting elevator.

  Samiah sensed the tension suffusing the office the moment the doors opened on the twenty-second floor. Absent was the laid-back, casual atmosphere and general levity one usually found upon entering Trendsetters. The air crackled with barely contained angst, her coworkers’ c
ollective discontent pulsing just below the surface.

  She went straight for the kitchen, setting the bakery items she no longer had any interest in indulging in on the long counter next to the coffee station. On the way to her office, she could practically feel the furtive glances following her movements. Her earlier confusion intensified, her body heat rising with every step she took.

  By the time she made it to her office, Samiah could feel sweat collecting at the small of her back. She took off her light wool peacoat and hung it on the single brushed-steel peg on the wall behind her desk. She then dropped her purse in the bottom desk drawer, kicked the drawer shut, and set out in pursuit of answers.

  Before she made it past the front edge of her desk, Amy Dodd rushed into her office and closed the door behind her. She slapped the button underneath the light switch that turned the glass walls from clear to opaque and charged toward Samiah.

  “Tell me everything!” Amy said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You cannot hold out on me! Come on, I want to know what’s going on.”

  “That’s my question!” Samiah slapped a hand to her chest. “I want to know what’s going on.”

  The crease that ran across Amy’s forehead became even more pronounced. “Wait a minute,” her coworker said. “You mean you weren’t a part of it?”

  “A part of what?” Samiah screeched.

  “The sting! Or whatever the heck went down.”

  She stepped back until her butt met the edge of her desk and then sat. “Start over,” Samiah said. “From the beginning. What sting?”

  “Apparently there’s been some kind of undercover operation going on this whole time. The Fed—like the freaking Fed—has been tracking this crazy money-laundering scheme.”