Chapter 9 #2
I look at him, about to make a comment about Jack, but somehow, I bite my tongue.
Anything I say would come out wrong. If I hint there’s dirt on me and Jack it’s just inappropriate, as this is Jack’s brother. And if I say how could I because I was with Jack, he might read it as me claiming Jack’s boring and that would be inappropriate, too.
Jack wasn’t boring. We just didn’t mesh.
Sex was fine but nothing mind-blowing and when we met, I knew I wasn’t normal, but I didn’t know a thing and when I worked it out, there were places I could just dip my toes in without cheating, without hurting him, without doing anything at all.
And Jack would watch porn.
I stop myself.
Right there.
Cade tucks my computer under his arm. “I’m just joking, Vi.”
Shit, I must look guilty and mortified because he’s all big brother Cade again.
He laughs. “You’re sweet, and I’m being a dick. Don’t worry, though, I know a computer is as personal as a phone…a phone is a computer, so…” He clears his throat. “I won’t snoop. Promise.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Of course, once, way back, when I did this type of thing for a living, you know, fixing issues with computers in a store, I had one guy who made his filthy secrets his home page, and I had to run diagnostics by opening his browser and that popped up.”
Horror streaks through me.
Fuck, he’s going to go through everything.
Cade winks. “Any test is just opening your browser to the launch page. Almost no one has a site saved. And I wouldn’t have to go further. If I had to check it. Which I wouldn’t. And I won’t be snooping any more than I need to.”
“Snooping?”
“For want of a better word. And if I find anything…” He winks. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
“I’m sure you’ll be bored senseless by anything you find.
” I swallow and run my hands down my thighs as I get up.
“I have a lot of…sensitive stuff to do with Isaac and how his office and campaigns are run. There’s an election next year, and you’d be shocked by how far in advance all these things are set in motion. ”
And with the scandal… But I’m not going there either.
He doesn’t either. Thank goodness.
“I’ll get started on this today, probably this afternoon. I’ll call you when this is all done. I have a spare laptop you can borrow if you like. Completely clean and ready to roll.”
I breathe out. “I won’t need anything until Monday at work, and there’s a computer in my office.” Shoebox, broom closet, whatever you want to call it.
I hook my backpack strap over my shoulder. “Thanks so much for this, Cade. Let me know what I owe you.”
His brows rise. “Owe? Violet, you won’t owe me a thing. I’m happy to help.”
“Okay, well, I’ll let you get back to your day.” I don’t know if Jack’s coming back soon, but I don’t want to be here if he does.
It’d be weird, awkward, and I think Cade knows it because he doesn’t offer me a drink or try to get me to stay to hang out.
Not that I want to hang out.
I smile and head to the door. “Thanks again.”
He holds the door, my computer under his arm. And he is close.
I’m hit again with that tantalizing dark and dirty church smell, of smoky woods and leather and a touch of basil. Intoxicating.
But I make myself step away instead of into it.
“My pleasure,” he says softly, his warm tone whispering through me.
I turn and hurry down the stairs, and it’s not until I’m on the street that I lean back against a wall and close my eyes for a moment, the magnitude of what I just did washing through me.
I haven’t cheated on Jack. And I’ve never wanted to meet anyone. I lurked forever in a lot of the different forums and on that fetish site I signed up for, too. Just lurked.
Until I didn’t.
Until I posted some fantasies.
Until I had a few email exchanges here and there. All anonymous on the site and most of them I only responded to once because they pushed for more, and… The guilt was more than the titillation of harmless fantasies.
To me, it was like Jack needed to beat off when he had the urge. I got it. Sometimes, you wanted to just come without someone else. With just your imagination and your selfishness.
I didn’t masturbate to anyone who responded.
It felt too…intimate. But stories and the men who’d post with what they wanted, even the ones who’d fill my inbox with filthy fantasies of what they’d do to me, how they’d treat me, chase me, take me, share me, make me nothing more than fuck meat were hot in all the wrong ways that felt right.
I didn’t want to be that.
But the fantasy…
I liked that.
I still do.
Rape fantasies and being treated like a toy to be used, shared, taken. Those are my favorites. But there’s more, so much more.
They’re all worse than the dirty things I sent to The Ghost.
And what if Cade goes looking? What if he can look at my search history and somehow log into my accounts? Did I save those to the computer? Shit, I think some of them have been…
I start gasping for air, but it’s hard, because if Cade sees…
I don’t want him to have that image of me. Not ever.
I pull my phone from my bag and log onto the sites. I change my passwords, even my email account.
Once I’m done, I breathe out, relaxing slightly.
I straighten up and start for the subway so I can head home.
And I feel good.
Crisis averted.