Chapter 27
twenty-seven
ASHER
By the time I step outside the hotel, insulated dinner bag in one hand and phone wedged between my shoulder and ear, Brad’s already dropping a bomb.
“There’s been another breach,” he says. My stomach immediately drops.
“How can that be?” I frown. “We tightened the security so much even I can barely get in.”
I head toward my car in the growing twilight, the salty breeze tugging at my clothes. The hotel chef packed Francie’s favorite dinner, and I was smiling as I left the kitchen. But now my jaw is tight.
“We think whoever broke in left some kind of back door,” Brad says. “We can’t find it, but it’s there.”
“Christ.” I run my hand through my hair. “I thought we had this locked down. I don’t suppose you have any idea who it is?”
“We’re trying. But whoever they are, they made sure to leave very little trace. We’ve been over the whole codebase to see what’s changed, and there’s nothing.”
“There has to be something.” I open the trunk, set the bag inside, and slide into the driver’s seat. “Go through it again.”
“We already are. I’ve authorized the team to work overnight. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” I hit the button to start the engine. “I’m assuming you haven’t heard anything from the police.”
“Not a word. You?”
“Nothing.” Which is good. Because whatever’s going on in our systems, I want to be able to deal with it fast. Without the law looking over our shoulders. “You checked on Nathan again?”
“He’s out of the country. Apparently on the bender to end all benders.”
With the money I paid him. I wrinkle my nose.
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t him.”
“I know that. We have him under twenty-four hour surveillance. The man’s done nothing to raise suspicion. He’s too drunk and drugged up to do anything but sleep it off. Either he’s the world’s best actor, or he’s not involved.”
I run my tongue over my dry lips. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.” Even I know when I’m defeated. And truth be told, I never should have come back here after the break in. I wouldn’t have, except for her.
“We’ll be here,” Brad says, sounding relieved. I know I’ve asked too much of him. I shouldn’t be here when the business is under attack. And yet I haven’t been able to stay away either.
Guilt pulls at my gut. If I’d been in New York these past few days, would I have found the breach sooner? It was there all along. Whoever broke into the office almost certainly used it as a cover up for creating a backdoor into our systems.
And I flew back to Liberty and let them walk right in. Because my dick did the thinking.
Pulling out of the hotel parking lot, I take a right, seeing the lighthouse rising into the sky in the distance. For some reason it immediately calms me. Knowing she’s there. Knowing I’ll see her in a few minutes.
That I’ll be able to touch her. My body relaxes at the thought of holding her. Kissing her. Making her come.
For the first time in years, maybe longer, I’ve felt… steady. Like I belong somewhere. With someone.
I hook another right, the tires crunching against the loose gravel, each rotation sending a soft scatter of stones beneath the wheels.
It sounds like home, which is such a fucking stupid thing to think.
But I do anyway. I park, grab the insulated bag, and those fucking contacts that Hudson was so desperate to give me, and stride to the front door.
Francie is waiting for me when I unlock the door, her smile lighting up her whole face. She’s barefoot, wearing one of those oversized sweaters that hangs off her shoulders. Her hair is in a loose topknot, strands spilling from it.
Her legs are also bare. My eyes drink them in.
“Hi honey, how was your day,” she says, her voice low and sexy.
“Better now.” I put the bag on the entry table and pull her into my arms. She smells of flowers, like she’s freshly showered. For me.
My dick immediately goes hard.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, like she can sense my mood.
I brush the loose strands of hair from her face. She’s not wearing makeup. Fuck, I want this woman.
“Brad called right as I left the hotel. There’s been another breach in our system.”
She frowns, looking up at me. There’s so much concern in her eyes that it makes my chest tighten. “Another one?” she asks softly. “I thought everything was okay now.”
“We think somebody left a backdoor in the system after the break in. We can’t find it yet. But it means I have to go back to New York.”
“Oh.” I hate the way she sounds disappointed, even though she’s obviously trying to hide it. “Of course you do. When do you leave?”
“I need to take the first ferry to the mainland in the morning. I’ll get a flight from there.”
“No helicopter swooping onto Liberty this time?” she teases.
“I think I’ll go for a less dramatic exit.” I follow her to the living room, where she’s obviously been writing all day. Her laptop is open, there are handwritten notes scattered on the coffee table. “Did I interrupt you?”
“No. I’ve finished for the day. Just gotta tidy up.” She shuffles the papers into a loose pile. “So, tonight is our last night,” she says. “I guess we need to make it count.”
“It’s not our last night,” I say. She’s bent over the coffee table, and the oversized sweater has ridden up to reveal her panties. I reach for her hips, pulling her ass against my front. Her breath hitches.
“What were you writing today?” I murmur, kissing the back of her neck.
She lets out a contented sigh. “A fight scene.”
“Not a sex scene?” I ask. “Shame.” She wrote one the other day and I came home and reaped the benefits.
“That’s next week’s job. The last one. The makeup sex.” She turns to look at me, her gaze warm. “I was hoping you’d be here for inspiration, but I guess I’ll have to use my imagination.”
“I have something that might help.” I remember what I found on my laptop earlier.
“What?”
I pull up my phone, accessing the system. “Turn on the television.”
She gives me a curious look, but does it anyway. Then I log in to my own private access, the part of the security system that I know is beyond locked down. I scroll down with my thumb until I find what I need.
Then I Chromecast it to the seventy-inch screen.
It flickers, as the video comes to life. And what appears is a blurry image, especially blown up that big, but the view of the lighthouse door is clear. Even at night.
“What is this?” she asks. “Have you been spying on me?”
I shake my head and fast forward the footage. Two people come into view. Us. The me on the video feed spins her around, slams her back against the front door. We say some words that can’t be heard, then she grabs my face, kissing me hard and deep.
“Oh my God, Asher,” the real Francie whispers. Her cheeks are pink as she watches me deepen the kiss. We both look angry. Probably because we were. “It’s the night of the dinner party,” she murmurs.
“Yeah.”
She’s still against me. Her back to my front. I absentmindedly start to caress her stomach as video-Francie drops to her knees and starts to run her tongue over my dick.
My body heats, like it can feel the softness of her tongue. Francie watches, her breath speeding.
Then the screen-me pulls her up and hooks her leg around my hip as I thrust inside her so hard it makes her head fall back.
The real her gasps. I run my hands up her body, under the sweater, groaning when I find that she’s not wearing a bra. Her breasts are soft, her nipples hard. Her breath catches as I start to play with them.
“See how beautiful you are?” I murmur in her ear. “When I found this, I nearly fucking came in my pants. I was supposed to be working.”
We start to fuck harder on the screen. All I can look at is her face though. The way it’s flushed, so close to pleasure.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.
“Asher,” the real her whispers. She rocks against my back and I get the message. Sliding my hand down, I hook my fingers beneath the waistband of her panties.
And then I find her warm wetness waiting for me. One touch of her clit and she lets out a cry.
On screen, she drops her head against my neck, and I know that she’s close. It’s the same in real life. I slide a finger inside of her, my thumb rubbing gentle circles on her clit as she rests her head against me.
“Look how pretty you are when you’re letting me inside you,” I whisper in her ear. “Look how close you are to coming.”
“I’m so close,” she whispers.
I know it. My girl has tells. Her breath shortens, her pussy tightens around my fingers. I can feel her clit, swollen and needy, against my thumb.
And then the screen-her starts to come. I’m so hard from watching that, I’m aching. I increase the pressure on her clit, and the real her starts to peak.
“Asher…”
“Let it go, baby,” I murmur, curling my fingers inside of her. “Look at you. Both of you. Coming and glorious. I’m going to think about this every night when I’m away.”
She starts to shatter, her breath harsh, her body tight. I wrap my arm around her waist to keep her standing.
She’s trembling in my arms, her release washing over her in deep, pulsing waves. I hold her close, my lips kissing her ear, her throat, her cheek as I whisper what a good girl she is for me.
With my free hand, I pick up the remote and click it off. There’s only so much I can take. I’m already on the edge.
I rest my hand on her belly, warm and sated beneath my touch.
“You’re so perfect,” I murmur.
She lets out a soft laugh, her breath still shaky. But then she stiffens in my arms.
“Wait.” She twists in my grip to face me. Her eyes are wide. “That footage. If it recorded that, what else did it record?”
“I locked the lighthouse cameras the minute you asked me to watch you,” I tell her. I’d already anticipated this. “Nobody has access to them apart from me. Not my team, nobody.”
Her hands go to her cheeks. “But what if somebody did see? Parker or Autumn. Oh my God, they could have—”
“They didn’t.” I reach for her face, tilting her chin so she’s looking at me. “Francie, I swear. I told them I’d keep an eye on everything so they could relax while they’re away. It’s completely locked down. Far away from any eyes. This is isolated on the local system. For our eyes only.”
She swallows hard. “You’re sure.”
I nod, giving her a smile. “It’s my job, remember?” I kiss her jaw, my lips soft. “Come to New York with me. You can write at my place.” There’s a twist in my stomach at the thought of being away from her.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I have this book to finish for one.” She traces her finger along my bottom lip. “You may not know this, but you and your magic fingers can be very distracting.” She takes a deep breath. “But also, I need to go to Virginia.”
“Is everything okay?” Her parents live on a huge estate in Virginia. And her father is old. I immediately start thinking the worst.
“Everything is fine. It’s just that my brothers are all going to be there and I want to talk to them.
” She pulls her lip between her teeth. “What you said the other day, about telling them the truth. I’ve been thinking about it, and all the marketing that’s going to come soon.
I need to tell them about my writing. Before they find out from social media. ”
I blink, surprised that she actually listened to me. It had been a throwaway comment. But something warm grows in my stomach at the thought that she’s ready to move forward with this.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.”
She grins. “Thank you.” Then she lets out a long breath. “I can’t believe you have to leave. I’m going to miss you. It feels like the end of the best summer ever.”
“It’s fall already,” I point out.
“I know. But I still don’t want it to end.”
I tighten my arms around her, my mouth against her ear. “It’s not the end, sweetheart.”
She lets out a breath, leaning against me. “It feels like it.”
“It’s not.” My voice is firmer now. “You’re going to go to Virginia to tell your family the truth. I’m going to head to New York to sort out my own issues. It’s a pause, nothing else.”
“And what happens when we un-pause?” She looks up at me.
“We’ll come back together. I’ll come to you, you come to me, we both come here. Whatever. We’ll work it out.”
“Maybe I’ll get my book finished too. Assuming I can work out the ending.”
“I already know the end,” I say, kissing her softly.
“You do? Can you tell me please?” she teases.
“Guy gets the girl.” My lips claim hers again. “And the guy never lets her go.”
She shakes her head, amused at my poor attempts to plot her book. “It needs a cliffhanger. That’s part of the contract.”
“This is why I’m a security guy, not a writer. But our ending, baby. That’s not coming. This? You and me? We’re just getting started.”