Chapter 26
Rooster
I'm a very patient man.
I've never let my cock control my actions without working through every possible outcome scenario.
I also have never found a woman who makes me ache for release the way Morgan Spence does.
I feel off-kilter and more than a little out of my element where she's concerned.
With as much as I could be doing, I find myself watching the live feed of her office. Every time she shifts in her seat at her desk, I'm left wondering if she's thinking of me, and those thoughts are making her squirm.
I fight the urge to make contact with her, but it lasts all of half an hour before I backdoor her company's firewall and add a chat messenger to her computer.
Me: What's got you so anxious, sweetheart?
I watch in real-time as she tilts her head to the side, growing confused by the message I sent.
With a couple more clicks, I access her webcam, and it gives me the perfect view of her face.
Her fingers hover over her keyboard, but they don't move.
Me: How was your coffee this morning? I hope I made it to your liking.
I know I have her when a slow smile spreads across her pretty face, confusion clearing instantly.
Her: Have you hacked my computer?"
Me: Are you asking if I can see the searches you did the other day?
Pink spreads across her face as she chews on the bottom corner of her lips. Her fingers once again hover over her keyboard but remain motionless.
Me: Let me clear things up for you, sweetheart. I do like you. A lot.
Her smile grows wider just before she looks over her shoulder to make sure no one is paying attention to what she's doing.
Her desk is situated in such a way that someone would have to walk directly behind her desk to observe what's on her screen.
Her: I could get into trouble for chatting with you. We aren't supposed to have any outside links to our computer.
Me: I'd never let you get into trouble, Morgan. Your company can't see what we're typing. I'm better at computers than that.
Her: That's good. Can I be honest about something?
Me: Of course. Always.
Her: I think there might be something to this waiting and getting to know each other before jumping in bed.
I know for a fact that my smile is so broad that some would question my sanity if they came into the conference room and witnessed it for themselves.
Me: Anticipation is an aphrodisiac on its own.
Her: If you're not careful, however, I may end up going a little crazy and locking you in my room forever.
I lick at my suddenly dry lips before my fingers move over my keyboard.
Me: What happens in the room once the door is locked?
She once again looks around, and I know what she's going to type is going to be salacious, and my cock begins to thicken before her fingers move over the keys.
The program I have set up measures her keystrokes, so even though she types out, I'm going to start by sucking the head of your cock so deep into my throat that you'll never want to leave before erasing it, I still get to see it.
Her: I can think of so many things. Where would you like me to start?
I contemplate giving her an out. I know if I type back the words that she deleted, I'm going to force her to edit herself in her mind before typing things out.
I take a gamble, imagining her teasing me with her deleted words going forward.
Me: I'm thinking that you sucking the head of my cock so deep into your throat that I'll never want to leave would be a good way to jump things off.
My finger hovers over the send button for a few seconds before I press it. Nerves rack my body as I watch her read what I've typed out. The fact that I can watch her lips move as she reads it sends a wash of stimulus south, and it's my turn to have to shift in my seat.
Her: Oh. My. God.
Me: I think that would be my actual reaction as well.
Her grin only grows wider as her fingers work over the keyboard.
Her: I should probably be annoyed that you can see what I deleted, but know the only reason I didn't send it is because I was afraid it would be too much too soon.
Me: I don't want you to ever have to worry about speaking what's on your mind to me.
Her: None of what I'm thinking right now is suitable while I'm at work.
Me: Are you needy, baby?
Her teeth dig into her lower lip once again, making me contemplate a false fire alarm in her building that can't be turned off for hours, so she'd have to leave and come back here until it's dealt with.
Her: I ache.
She shifts her weight in her office chair again, and I can only imagine how turned on she is. I feel exactly the same way, and it forces my hand down. I adjust myself a little better, but it does nothing to ease the pang of need growing in my balls for this woman.
Me: Me too. What if I told you to go to the restroom and take those damp panties off for me?
Morgan looks over her shoulder again, her smile slow and a little devious as her fingers begin to type.
Her: What if I said I wasn't wearing any?
I groan with the need to have her here in this room so I can check for myself.
Her: I'd argue against it because I'd leave a mess on my office chair.
I sit back in my chair, hands flat on my thighs, as I fight the urge to grip my erection over my sweats.
Instead of typing more, she stands from her desk, gives the camera a saucy little wave, and disappears.
I squeeze my eyes closed, my mind wandering as I picture her going into one of the bathroom stalls and sliding her panties down her milky thighs.
A ping sounds, notifying me of a new message from her, but when I open my eyes and glare down at my computer screen, it isn't a message from Morgan that I'm staring at. Although it's the same program I'm using with her, a new chat window has popped up.
Evil Twin: This has been fun, but I have another job to attend to. Keep our woman warm in my absence.
The message disappears before I can sit up and start to type.
He has to know what my next move will be. I have no idea how long he's been working to infiltrate Cerberus's closed system, but opening the digital door to allow myself to chat with Morgan gave him the in he needed to get inside.
My fingers work feverishly over the keyboard as I attempt to close everything back up. I find nothing strange in our system. There's no virus or hidden program that will give him continued access to our equipment, but Henry has always been one step ahead of me. Something I've hated our entire lives. The system looks clean, and knowing him, just the idea that I'll be searching for something that might not be there will give him more pleasure than actually leaving something behind.
I've had to break the access to Morgan's work computer to seal my system back up, and I watch disappointment spread across her face when she takes a seat back in her office chair and notices that the chat window is gone.
I pull up my texting application and shoot her a text.
Me: TBC very soon, sweetheart.
Her smile grows on camera as she reads the text on her phone before she types back a message.
Her: I guess I'll go put these back on.
Her message comes through a second before a picture of lacy black underwear in her palm does.
Me: Don't you dare.
I don't know if it's her natural instinct to be a brat, but instead of sending a secondary response, she stands from her chair and walks away a second time, looking smug as she returns and gets back to work.
Fifteen minutes later, I'm still digging around in my system, looking for breaches when Bandera walks in.
"Need me?" I ask, giving him a quick glance before looking back at my computer screens.
"Not really," he says as he pulls out a chair at the massive table and falls into it.
"I thought you were on Morgan duty today?"
"Heathen took over so I can hit the strip in a little while," he says with a big yawn as he rubs both eyes with the backs of his hands. "These overnights are making me miserable."
"I can imagine," I say, trying to commiserate with him, but I work non-stop myself. "Have you found anything useful?"
"I've handed out cards to a lot of women, but I haven't found anyone underage yet. Their lives have been filled with so much pain and disappointment they don't exactly trust some guy with a business card and a promise to get them help."
"That sucks," I say, wishing I had something a little more helpful or at least sophisticated to say.
I have no idea what it takes to go undercover, to pretend to be someone I'm not. My place has always been at the keyboard, and although I know I'm helpful in the best way I can be, it still leaves part of me feeling more than a little separated from these guys. They put their lives on the line. They get into situations where someone could turn on them and put a bullet in their head for merely saying the wrong word.
The crazy part is Henry has somehow managed to morph himself into both categories. He's both the IT genius and the man who can look someone in the eye, tell them the world is flat, and have them believe it in seconds. His ability to manipulate people is a skill he's been honing since he was a child.
"I feel the need to tell you that Henry was able to get into my system," I confess, waiting for the man to jump up and berate me for letting it happen in the first place.
"How?"
I swallow before lifting my eyes from the screen and directing them toward him.
"I added a program that allows me to chat with Morgan while she's at work, and he backdoored me."
"Did you fix it?"
"I haven't found anything else, but I've locked everything down again. If I know Henry, he did it just because he could."
Bandera stands, running his massive hand over the top of his head.
"Don't forget he put that woman in your path for a reason," he says before walking out of the room.