Chapter 8
Dakota
“I got the response from my contact at the phone company, and you won't like it,” Marcus mutters, approaching me and dropping a brown folder on my desk.
The documents reveal that Olivia, Anna's ex, has established a network of contacts with several energy industry companies that would benefit if the prototype never sees daylight. But it's the constant calls to a familiar number that really catches my attention.
“This cell phone… does it belong to this company? Both Anna and you have very similar numbers, just a few digits different.”
“It's Dottie's personal phone,” Marcus responds, letting out a heavy breath.
“Shit, there are tons of calls, all outside work hours. Some lasting an hour.”
“Could be a coincidence. Something innocent,” the head of security points out. “Dottie and her met when Anna and Olivia were dating and became good friends,” he explains.
“Or it could be no coincidence at all and indicate we've got the enemy inside,” I cut in.
“If I'm honest, nothing related to Olivia ever seemed coincidental to me, or innocent,” Marcus mutters, seeming to hate her almost as much as I do.
“We'll need to stay alert. And Marcus? Your contact at the phone company has earned at least one expensive dinner. They're risking their job by leaking this data. Tell them thanks.”
***
That same morning, I find Dottie in the break room. She jumps when I enter, almost spilling coffee on the table.
“Dakota. I thought… I didn't expect to see you here, thought you'd be with Anna at the investors' meeting,” she greets nervously.
“Marcus is handling that,” I reply flatly while pouring coffee and sitting across from her. “We need to talk,” I add, staring straight into her eyes.
“Talk?”
She grips her mug too tight, clutching it while her right leg bounces.
“About what?”
“How about those calls to Olivia?”
The color drains from her face, but she tries to recover.
“We're friends, it's normal we talk every so often. Wait, it's totally illegal for the company to spy on my calls. Where did you get that information?” she asks nervously.
“That doesn't matter. Are you such good friends, you talk almost daily? Sometimes for over an hour?” I press, leaning forward.
“They're just… you know, girl talk. We catch up about our love lives, our work…”
“Your work?” I cut in, raising my eyebrows.
“I mean her work, of course. She tells me about different roles she's up for, her projects, auditions, those kind of things.”
“I guess you weren't the one who told her Anna would be at the renewable energy gala, and Olivia just happened to show up.”
“I would never do that,” she rushes to respond. “Besides, the guest list was public, anyone could have known Anna would be there.”
She almost spills her coffee again. She's shaking. That's a bad sign.
“I have a lot to do,” she announces, suddenly standing up.
“You haven't finished,” I remind her, lowering my voice and pointing to her drink.
“No time,” is all the response I get before she disappears from the break room like the devils themselves were chasing her.
The upside is that this Olivia must have half a brain cell that doesn't always work. I still don't understand what kind of conversation she could have with someone as intelligent as Anna. The second upside is she's one of those people who needs to post absolutely everything about their life on social media. A quick look at her Instagram shows she “coincidentally” had breakfast at the café across from Anna's company a couple of days ago and has been at the gym Anna sometimes goes to a few times.
“She's trying to force a casual encounter with her,” I inform Marcus. “But someone's feeding her information, this can't all be coincidence. Anna started going to that gym after breaking up with Olivia.”
“She barely goes anyway,” the head of security reminds me.
“Still, she knows the few times she does go, it's to that specific gym.”
The answer comes that same afternoon. One of my contacts tells me Anna's ex has hired Jack Reynolds, former security consultant turned private investigator. Well, private investigator is generous since his specialty is selling information about where celebrities go.
“Time to set a trap,” I whisper with a wink, and Marcus nods.
We leak false information about Anna attending an art gallery opening. Within hours, our security team reports Olivia's presence right there. She's dressed to kill, probably expecting a “casual” encounter with Anna.
Of course, she won't find her because she's safe at home, working late as always, skipping meals like her body can run on caffeine and pure willpower alone.
“When's the last time you ate?” I ask, approaching her with small steps and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I remind you you're my bodyguard, not my nanny,” she growls, shrugging off my hand.
“Come on, Anna, I'm serious. You need to eat something. Even if it's one of those peanut butter sandwiches you love so much, but put something in your body.”
“I have a lot of work,” is the only answer I get.
“I'm willing to take you to the kitchen by force if necessary,” I threaten, raising my eyebrows.
“You wouldn't dare,” she responds, standing up to put a folder in one of the filing cabinets.
I take advantage of that moment when she's distracted to throw her over my shoulder. She protests initially, but soon finds the situation funny and stops squirming. When I set her down in the kitchen, Anna pretends to be very offended, though the smile playing on her lips gives her away.
“One peanut butter sandwich, and I'm back to work.”
“Deal. Now sit while I make it.”
“Are you going to force me?”
I raise my eyebrows, but she hops up onto the kitchen island herself, swinging her legs playfully.
“You know? It's super romantic that you're making me a peanut butter sandwich, such effort, right?” she jokes.
“I'm full of surprises, see.”
“Is this just work too?” she asks, grabbing my shirt collar and pulling me closer.
“Anna…”
“Tell me you don't feel anything. I'm not stupid, I see how you look at me. I know you're a professional, and you're trying to stay distant, but you're also human. I want to know if you're as attracted to me as I am to you,” she whispers, opening her legs and pulling me again to stand between them.
“I'm your bodyguard. There are certain lines that can't be crossed.”
“You haven't answered my question,” she insists, leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“Damn it, Anna, please. I can't…”
“Am I just a job to you? Is that what you want me to be?”
“You're not,” I admit with a sigh. “But you need to be.”
“Will you answer my question? Do you feel something or not? Because I'll be very clear. Since I woke up at the resort holding on to your thigh, I've had fantasies about you before bed, and I want to know if the same happens to you. If you say no, that's fine. I won't push again, but I need to know, or I'll go crazy.”
She bites her lower lip, and her blue eyes shine with a mix of desire and vulnerability I hadn't seen before. She rests her forehead against mine, her warm breath brushing my skin with each quick breath. She slides her hands along my neck, caressing me with her fingertips, with a gentleness that makes me shiver.
“We can't continue, please,” I protest, though I don't even believe it myself.
“We won't tell your boss,” Anna teases, placing two fingers under my chin to lift it and then sliding her tongue tip along my neck.
My barriers instantly crumble. I lift her blouse and caress the soft skin of her back, feeling her spine arch under my fingers. She leans in again, leaving a trail of small kisses along my neck before grazing my jaw with her teeth, drawing out a moan I didn't know I was holding back.
Our lips meet in a passionate kiss. It's not the romance I'd fantasized about some nights before sleep. It's a primal, wild desire. Anna tangles her fingers in my hair, seeking my tongue with hers while unbuttoning my shirt hurriedly, ripping off the last two buttons in a desperate attempt to undress me.
As soon as the shirt hits the floor, she goes for my bra with the same urgency, leaving me exposed, panting with desire.
“God, you have a beautiful body,” she sighs, sliding off the island and running her fingertips across my stomach, caressing every inch of my skin like it's sacred.
“This is crazy,” I mumble in a last glimpse of sanity.
Anna just smiles, quickly removing her shirt before doing the same with her pants and underwear. She stands in front of me, completely naked, her breathing rapid, waiting for me to do the same, though I only have eyes for the most perfect nipples I've ever seen in my entire life.
I try to suck them while she undresses me and, as soon as she completely removes my clothes, Anna puts her hands on my waist to turn my body. I lean on the counter while she rubs her sex against my ass, caressing my breasts, pinching my nipples between her fingers, gently biting my shoulders, leaving her teeth marks on my skin.
Our moans intertwine. Each brush, each caress, drives me wild with desire.
“Let's go to bed. Now!” she orders after sliding a hand between my legs and realizing how aroused I am.
In her bedroom, Anna pushes me onto the mattress, falling on top of me with a mix of urgency and tenderness. We intertwine our legs, she rubs against my thigh while caressing me with her breasts, hardening my nipples even more with each touch.
She slides her hand between my legs again and pushes two fingers inside me. I arch my hips against her hand, my body seeking more depth each time she moves her fingers.
“I need to feel you,” she whispers, pulling my hair and positioning her legs so our cores touch.
The sensation of her skin against mine is electrifying. Anna rubs hard against me, sliding her sex over mine in a frantic and passionate dance. Our moans blend together, she screams, begs me not to stop while our hips move in unison seeking more friction.
“I can't take it anymore,” she announces between gasps.
Her body tenses, her breathing stops for a brief moment, and hearing my name from her lips seems like the most arousing thing in the world right now.
I hold her tight so she can't get up while I keep moving. The sensation of her sex against mine, the wet mixture of our arousal, the heat, the passion, everything merges into a moment of pure pleasure that brings me to orgasm while Anna leans down to kiss me.
We collapse onto the mattress. Happy, satisfied, slowly catching our breath.
“God, that was absolutely incredible,” she hisses, turning her head to smile at me.
“It was,” I admit.
Then she cuddles up to me. Rests her head on my shoulder while I caress her back. And I know I've crossed a line I should never have crossed. Tomorrow, I'll probably regret it. I let desire take over, forgetting professional ethics. But that's tomorrow. Right now, while Anna covers my neck with soft kisses, I can only think that, in this moment, I'm happy.