Chapter 12 #2
“Look, you never mentioned your father, so none of us said anything, and you probably don’t need or want this, but I’m sorry.
” He reached out a hand, laying it on Nic’s forearm.
“And I don’t mean that you’re estranged.
If you made that decision, I trust that it was for a good reason.
I’m sorry he made you feel alone then and is doing so again now.
And that whatever this is, is blowing back on you. That’s not fair.”
Aidan was right. Nic didn’t want sympathy for having cut ties with his father.
There’d been no other choice if he wanted to be who he was and make a stand for everything his father wasn’t.
Sympathy, or regret for that matter, were wasted emotions.
But what Aidan was offering was more than he ever thought he deserved.
He swallowed hard, forcing out a “Thank you.”
Aidan withdrew his hand and slid back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. “Do you need protection?”
Nic snorted, and Aidan raised his hands, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth.
“They’re just threats,” Nic said and ignored Aidan’s eyebrow racing north.
“No one’s actually trying to kill me. I don’t think.
That wouldn’t serve their purpose. And I’ve got help handling it, in addition to Lauren. ”
“Cam?”
“No,” he snapped too quickly. “I don’t want him involved in this.”
Aidan’s other brow raced after its companion.
“He’s got enough on his plate,” Nic said. “So do you. I’ve got this.”
“Tell me who’s helping you, and I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Cruz.”
That seemed to appease him. “Fine, but if it gets out of hand, you tell me.”
“Thank you,” Nic said as he pushed to his feet. “Now, don’t you have calls to make?”
Aidan rose as well, raking a hand through his auburn hair. “Yes, God forbid San Franciscans be deprived of their luxury cars for a day.”
“Says the man who drives an Aston Martin.” Chuckling, Nic headed for the door, only to be stopped by Aidan’s hand around his biceps.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’re family, Dominic. And we take care of family.”
All the moisture in his mouth evaporated, worried he’d never be able to live up to that gift. “One day, maybe, I’ll tell you all just how much that means to me, but right now, Cam’s the family member in danger. He needs to be our primary concern.”
“Agreed.” Aidan released his arm. “So go to court and do your thing. Buy him and us some time.”
That he could do, for his family.
Face buried in the crook of Nic’s neck, Cam lapped up the salt and sweat, the hint of beer, and inhaled musk, hops, and man, the heady mixture making him groan with need.
Everything he wanted was beneath him, around him.
All of it hot. Under his hands, on his tongue, around his cock.
Cam roved his hands over ink, so much fucking ink.
Over painted skin and hard muscle, over broad shoulders and under Nic’s body, bowing his back.
Pulling Nic closer, needing him skin to skin, as their hips ground together, pounding toward the edge.
Nic hitched his knees higher, ankles crossed behind Cam’s back, heels digging into his ass, as he urged him to thrust deeper, whispering, “More, Boston,” in his ear.
That unaccented California voice, rough with sex and the screaming Cam had drawn out of him earlier, begged and moaned, “Harder, please.”
Cam angled his face in, chasing the lips he couldn’t get enough of, the taste he’d dreamed about for months.
And woke with a mouth full of pillow.
Groaning, not the good kind, Cam pushed himself out of the mound of pillows and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
Gripping either side of the bed, he held himself back from the call of his cock, which had made a fort of its own over his lap.
Nic was at least two dozen city blocks from the condo Becca had led them back to last night, and yet he was everywhere inside Cam’s head and body.
Not that he didn’t want or need Nic there, at minimum occupying the spot in his brain stamped Agent Byrne.
Cracking the security systems last night had sent adrenaline racing up Cam’s spine, a thrill at putting the forgotten talent back to use.
He’d channeled that adrenaline more constructively, more legally, the past two decades, but last night he’d been reminded of its original purpose.
Nic’s voice in his head and the card in his wallet had reminded him to connect the two, to make the original purpose constructive.
For the mission.
Rolling his head on the fluffy down pillow, Cam squinted out the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Forty-five floors up, nothing blocked his view of the midmorning sun shining over the Bay.
It was a beautiful, breathtaking sight, bright sun over glistening water, the suspended span of the Bay Bridge and the busy Embarcadero below.
Hand on the mattress, he shoved himself up and rested back against the padded headboard, surveying the bedroom.
The view inside was breathtaking too. Plush white linens, ebony furniture, an ebony wall hanging with the San Francisco cityscape carved in gold flake.
All of it was too neat, too much like a hotel room.
Not a condo someone actually lived in. And definitely not befitting Becca’s punk rock aesthetic.
A rental, then? Whoever was bankrolling this heist had shelled out a pretty penny if this was their base of operations.
That said, Cam had been in the Bay Area long enough to hear this building referred to as the Leaning Tower of Frisco, so maybe Deep Pockets got a good deal on it.
The slight lean helped as he reached for his phone on the bedside table.
He should check in. Text Lauren at the untraceable number he’d memorized before leaving the office yesterday.
He stopped mid-reach, however, catching sight of his jeans on the floor.
That’s where he’d left his phone. In his pants pocket with his wallet, not on the table beside the bed.
Someone had checked it. Maybe—probably—also tampered with it.
Was his wallet still even in his pants? Had they rifled through it too?
Without warning, the door swung open, and Cam retracted his hand, leaving the phone where it lay.
Becca sauntered in, Abby tucked under an arm against her side.
In the light of day, the coziness between the two gave him greater pause.
Same purple dye streaking their dark hair, though Becca’s was long and straight compared to Abby’s curls.
Same leather, denim, and lace punk attire.
Fresh kiss bruises on each of their necks.
He wondered again about their CI, whose eyes were skipping around the room, searching, assessing.
She was still playing both sides against the middle, where her sister stood.
Becca perched on the side of the bed, her hip next to his. She propped a booted foot on the bed rail and hauled Abby into the V of her thighs, the both of them angled toward him. “You passed out on us last night, Hot Stuff.”
He’d put on a show after they’d returned.
Pretended the multiple Irish car bombs he’d partaken in at the bar downstairs had done him in.
Please. He was Irish stock, from Boston.
It took a lot more than a few beers and whiskey shots to knock him on his ass, but the lie had kept him out of Becca’s clutches.
The multiple days with little sleep were what had actually knocked him out.
Hard enough that someone had managed to enter his room and tinker with his phone without him waking.
“Long day and night,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But profitable.”
Becca’s eyes zeroed in on his chest again, then drifted down to his abs. She traced a similar path with her nail. “At least you lived up to that hype.” Her nail dipped farther, trailing along the top of the sheet bunched around his waist. “Someone seems hyped this morning too.”
Damn Nic-fueled morning wood. And damn dick with a mind of its own, even if Cam’s heart and mind weren’t interested.
“Thought you had a girlfriend,” he said, gaze shifting meaningfully between her and Abby.
Becca paid him no mind, inching the sheet down so she could trace the sex lines on his hips. He fought not to shiver, a potent mix of mental disgust and bodily desire.
“We’re not opposed to a third, and I think my girl likes you.” She dropped the hand on Abby’s waist to her ass, squeezing and tugging her closer. Bringing them closer. “She can’t stop talking about you.”
Cam’s eyes darted back to Abby, worried she’d given too much away, but her eyes weren’t skeptically assessing any longer. She seemed interested for real. He had to put a stop to this seduction now. “We should save it for the victory celebration,” he suggested.
“But we have a day off.” Becca palmed him through the sheet, and Cam dug his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a curse. “And I’m not a fan of delayed gratification.”
Neither was his dick, apparently.
She lifted her hand, and he could breathe again, but only a moment, until she pried his lip free from his teeth and caught it between her own, drawing him into a kiss.
His insides churned, caught between his body’s wants, his heart’s desires, and his head pulling two different directions.
Railing that this was a betrayal while screaming back—in Nic’s voice, of all people’s—that he should use it for his cover.
He took a breath, ignored the scent of Becca’s perfume, and separated mind from body, focusing the former on finding an excuse out of this.
He caught a lucky break when a knock sounded against the door, giving him a momentary reprieve.
One of the bruisers, Jared, leaned his head in. “Call for you, Bex.”
“I’ll call them back.” She pushed Abby closer to Cam. “Your turn, baby.”
Abby looked ready to take her up on the offer, and if kissing Becca had caused Cam a near white-out of cognitive dissonance, it would be worse with Abby, their CI.
This was the job, but it felt like betrayal on a whole other plane.
Did Abby really want to do this or was she playing a role, like him?
And if Becca didn’t stop stroking him through the damn sheet, his body was going to put up a louder argument than everyone involved.
Another knock at the door, thank God. “He won’t wait,” Jared said.
Sighing, Becca held out her hand.
“Don’t you want to take it out here?” Jared said, scowling at Cam with thinly veiled hostility. And suspicion.
Becca snapped her fingers. “Give me the damn phone.”
Reluctantly, he handed it over and Becca shooed him to the door. She waited for him to pull it shut, then brought the phone to her ear. “Yeah?”
Cam couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but whatever the speaker said caused Becca to straighten and remove her hand from his crotch.
Playtime was over, thank fuck.
“We weren’t planning to move until tomorrow night, after the soft opening like we’d discussed.
” Another pause, forehead wrinkling. “Yes, we know the museum layout but we just brought in a new B&E guy.” Her eyes cut to Cam, staying there as she spoke.
“Double my fee. Half now, half on delivery.” After a couple of seconds, her mouth stretched into a satisfied smile. “Tonight it is.”
She ended the call and pocketed the phone.
“No day off, then?” Cam said, thankful for the extended reprieve. It didn’t last long, Becca kissing him hard. “I’ll be holding you to that victory celebration,” she said, once she pulled back.
“And I’ll be expecting a similar deal. Up my fee, half now.”
She considered him, eyes searching, then believing whatever she saw, she nodded and stood, drawing Abby toward the door with her. “You drive a hard bargain, Brady.” She eyed his still interested cock. “Will expect you to drive something else hard tonight.”
She pulled the door closed with a wink and “Downstairs in ten,” and Cam fell sideways onto the mattress, muffling his frustrated groan in the pillows. At least this would be over tonight. Much longer, and he was afraid even Nic wouldn’t be able to pull him back over his line.
Line.
He needed to let the team know the estimated timeline had been accelerated and that Becca was definitely taking orders from someone.
He grabbed his wallet first, though. Everything was in its place, just as he’d left it.
More likely than not, his cover held. Snagging his phone next, he turned it on and the picture on the screen flickered like it was shorting out.
Maybe Brady Campbell wouldn’t know what that meant but Agent Cameron Byrne, best friend of former cyber agent and hacker, Jameson Walker, knew exactly what that brief interruption meant.
He would make no calls and send no texts, messages, or emails from that phone.
He had to trust Lauren to see the extra deposit coming sooner than anticipated. To tell Nic and Aidan and for them to realize the robbery was going down tonight.