Mine to Keep: Protection Series Book 4, page 17
“Were you always this talented with computers?” I crawled down the bed, stretching out my tight muscles as I went, and sat on the end.
“Yes and no. Learning new coding languages, figuring out the ins and outs of software comes easier than it might for others, but I’ve had to work at it too. We didn’t have a computer growing up, so when I needed one for homework, I’d go to the library.” Swiveling in the chair, he faced me and leaned back, interlacing his fingers behind his head and spreading his knees. It took all my willpower to not stare at the way his sweatpants draped over an impressive bulge between his legs. “My mom wasn’t around much. She worked several jobs to keep the lights on and food on the table. She stripped at a club across town, sometimes worked the streets if she had to. She was on her way home from work when she was murdered.”
His normally vibrant eyes went distant, as if he was recalling memories from that time in his life.
“Did you take apart the library’s computer or something?” I joked, hoping to remove that ashen look from his face. “And that’s how you became a master hacker?”
Gaze still unfocused, a corner of his lips twitched upward. “No. Something snagged my attention at the library. Honestly, I don’t even remember what it was, but I checked out a book on computer programing one night. I enjoyed reading that over the literary shit they tried to shove down my throat. So I kept reading and learning, teaching myself how to code. After my mom passed, I went to live with my dad.” A silver ball slipped between his lips and rolled back and forth, back and forth. I became entranced as filthy visions played out in my mind. “He was fine, just a deadbeat, so I knew it was up to me to make sure we didn’t end up homeless after his unemployment checks stopped coming. That’s when I picked up hacking. It was wrong, but it paid the bills and helped me save us from being out on the streets.”
He dropped his arms and studied the ink designs atop his hands.
“And the tattoos? Is that when those started?”
“I fell into a rough crowd at the community college I attended, all of us studying computer engineering but hacking on the side. It was the pain, the buzz of the needle that kept bringing me back to the artist’s chair, which is why I got so many early on. Those few hours, I’d be numb, and considering I hadn’t properly mourned my mom and was busy either evading the feds or going to school, that numbness was welcomed. In a way, it was my sanctuary from the outside world.”
“You were running… from the people you wanted to be one day?” I asked, completely absorbed in his fascinating story. My elbows pressed to the insides of my thighs when I crossed them on top of the bed and leaned forward.
“Never said I had a squeaky-clean path to the FBI,” he said with a forced smile.
“Do they know?”
“It’s how I ended up in a windowless interrogation room. They finally tracked me down, which I’ll admit I wanted, and offered me a deal. If I gave up my clients, the worst ones I was working for, they would offer me a lesser sentence.”
“And?” I inched toward the corner of the bed to shorten the distance between us. “Wait, did you spend time in prison? I’m crushing on a felon!”
Like I’d hoped, all traces of the earlier sadness vanished as his smile grew wider. Shaking his head, he leaned forward, clasping his hands between his spread knees.
“Would that change anything?”
Biting my lower lip, I shook my head. “I knew from the start you’d be a terrible influence.”
“You have no idea,” he practically purred. He dropped my gaze to stare at my lips. “But no. I offered to help, told them I wanted a job. At that point, I’d graduated with my BS and had applied to the academy. Most were against the idea, but an important guy at Quantico pushed my application through under the condition that I’d start out in Cyber Crimes. Which I did for a few years before working my way through different divisions, still helping more on the technical side. But the BSU division was always my end goal.”
Something flashed across his face that I couldn’t read.
“What?”
“It’s not that I don’t like the department, or the type of cases we work. It’s just that I’m finding myself missing the technical side. It’s where I excel, and when I’m out in the field, I’m restricted.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t fully understand.
“Are you frustrated with me for holding you back on this case? Keeping you from flexing your computer genius brains?”
He released a slow breath, and I braced myself for his frustration. But it never came.
“You’re just trying to protect me from myself. How can I be mad at that? Though I will admit I miss it. It’s a different aspect of profiling, and I sometimes think I’m not being used to my full potential. We have stacks of files, hundreds of victims who deserve justice, but red tape keeps me from helping us track down the killers faster. That is incredibly frustrating.”
A heavy silence settled between the small gap that separated us, both of us unable to look away from the other. I wanted to tell him then that I was ready, that I wanted more with him even if it was just for the next three days, but a series of three beeps shattered the moment. Charlie’s nostrils flared with his deep inhale. Body still facing me, he twisted to glance at his laptop. He did a double take before swiveling around completely and leaning in close to the screen.
“I’m in.” A flash of pure excitement overtook his face.
“In?”
“The victim’s cell phone.”
“How? I thought you couldn’t figure out her password.” Unfolding my legs, I stepped closer to the desk and bent forward to see what held his undivided attention.
“I couldn’t on my own, but the software program I built for times like this did. It runs through all the dates and other numbers associated with the file I uploaded and configures the top numerical codes she would’ve chosen. And boom, we’re in.”
I chewed on my lip while staring at the screen. The urge to ask him if this was legal pressed on me, but I honestly didn’t want to know. This phone, however we could unlock the data inside, could be the key to our entire investigation. I couldn’t let some red tape stop me from finding the unsub, especially now that we had a deadline, and I knew Charlie’s feelings behind his desire to use his expertise.
Charlie unplugged the phone from his computer and swiped across the screen. Page after page of apps flipped by, too many and too fast for me to even try to identify them all.
“It will take me a while to sort through all the apps she’s downloaded,” he muttered, brows pinched. “And I thought my phone was full. This woman downloaded every available app in the Apple store.”
Another yawn crept up. Turning away from Charlie, I nonchalantly covered my mouth, hoping he didn’t notice.
“Get some sleep,” he said over his shoulder, not looking away from the screen.
I checked my watch, frowning when I found it dead. “What time is it?”
“Almost midnight. Seriously, get some sleep. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
What he said was true, but even though my body said I was tired, my mind was running a mile a minute.
“There’s something off about the profile that’s bugging the shit out of me,” I said as I reached across his laptop to grab a cold slice of pizza. “But I can’t figure out what.”
Charlie glared at the pizza when it hovered above his laptop.
“How about you talk it through while I search through the phone? Maybe I can point out some holes or inconsistencies.”
Taking my midnight snack over to the bed, I propped the pillows up and settled back against the headboard, pulling the stack of case files onto my lap.
“Okay,” I mumbled around a bite of pizza. “I’ll start with the basics, then work my way through the questions that haven’t been answered yet with evidence.”
Looked like it would be another long night working. But with Charlie just a few feet away, being able to talk through what was swirling in my overactive mind, it wasn’t as daunting, or lonely, as it had been in the past.
In fact—and this was sad to say—I enjoyed it.
All because of him.
15
CHARLIE
Dry eyes burning, I continued to study the phone’s bright screen, pushing past the discomfort. Almost done, then I could get some rest, like Sleeping Beauty curled up among the papers and photos.
Longing mixed with satisfaction swelled when I peeked over the phone’s edge. Beautiful in sleep and awake, and she thinks I’m a deadly combination. I have nothing on her ability to whip me under her spell with a simple look or hilarious comment.
Pushing exhaustion aside, I turned back to the phone and swiped the screen for what felt like the thousandth time in the last hour.
I wrote down two apps that looked suspicious and needed a deeper dive, and thankfully this was the last screen full. Prior to falling asleep, Rhyan talked through the case, analyzing the specifics of the profile for almost two hours while I listened, speaking up when I could offer unique insight or a question about the direction of her thinking.
By the time she fell asleep, we had more questions than answers.
White male, forty to fifty, medical training, white-collar job, lived alone but was married at one point, probably divorced or going through a divorce because of his spouse cheating on him. Now had a hatred for all cheaters, targeting women who were searching for an affair. Lived or worked around the downtown area. Drove a vehicle that could move around a body with ease and was physically strong enough to carry dead weight along the bridge without leaving a mark on the body.
The odd way he killed his victims was the snag in the profile we couldn’t figure out. That and how he would incapacitate the women to inject the air into their veins without leaving an obvious mark.
Officially done with the phone and working for the night—early morning, if I were being technical—I set it on the desk beside the laptop and rose from the chair. My back cracked, muscles straining as I stretched my arms up high toward the ceiling. Twisting one way, then the other, I held in a groan to not wake Rhyan. My bed called my name, begging me to slip beneath the covers to at least get a few hours of sleep, but I moved toward her.
I stood over her curled form, memorizing every detail like a fucking creeper. Lips parted, features soft with sleep with her hands tucked beneath her cheek, Rhyan appeared serene. Before I realized what I was doing, two fingers trailed through her thick red hair splayed across the white pillow. I nearly came undone earlier when she shook out her wet hair, freeing the wavy, damp locks. She had no clue what images that minor action stirred in my dirty-ass mind.
I wanted that hair pulled tight in my fist, using my grip to hold her in place while I devoured her lips or eased my throbbing cock into her open, willing mouth. Memories of this morning’s all-consuming kiss sent a bolt of desire straight to my balls.
Breath picking up, I took a step away from the woman who I wanted more than any other before her. Perching on the edge of the bed, I leaned forward and covered my face with both hands. Pressing the heels to my eye sockets, I forced the bombarding thoughts of a naked Rhyan out of my mind. Fuck, I had to get my shit together around her. The last thing I wanted was to push her away because she thought I was a fucking creep.
“Hey.”
My head snapped up at the soft, sleepy voice. Face still pressed against her hands, her green eyes met mine, blinking slowly as if she fought the urge to fall back asleep.
“Hey. Go back to sleep. I just wrapped up. I’m about to do the same.”
The mattress shifted and dipped as she pushed up, licking her lips and lazily surveying the room. “I fell asleep?”
“About an hour ago.”
Scooting to the edge of the bed, she collected the scatter of papers and her laptop onto her lap. “So sorry about that. What a superb partner I am, sleeping on the job while you kept on working. I’ll head back to my room.”
“Or you could stay.”
“You want me to stay the night again?”
“Of course I do.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to beg her to stay. Even if nothing happened between us, I liked her close. I needed her close. I felt more like myself and more like a man who deserved more from life when she was around. But I didn’t, just nodded and stood when she did.
“I can’t,” she said, shifting on her feet.
Hand pressed to her lower back, I walked with her to the closed door. My grip tightened around the handle, but I couldn’t make myself open it. Not when I knew it would result in her walking through it and leaving me feeling lonelier than ever.
“Good night,” she whispered, and my attention perked up. Her cheeks were flushed, and her voice was breathy in a way that I, and my cock, immediately understood. “I should go.” Her choice in words didn’t fail my notice.
“You don’t have to leave,” I said, tipping her face up to mine with a knuckle pressed beneath her chin.
“I do, though. I’m sorry, I really am. I’m just not… I’m not ready.” Those green eyes begged for me to understand.
Desire swirled within me as her chest heaved up and down with every quick breath. It seemed she didn’t want to leave but felt she needed to.
It took all my willpower to shove the handle down and pull open the door. If she wasn’t ready, that was fine. I’d wait. No way in hell would I push her past what she was comfortable with.
Patience and understanding were the way to her heart. Not jumping her, ripping off every scrap of clothing, and eating her whole, starting at her pussy.
Though I seriously wish it were, because fuck, I needed a taste.
As she slipped through the small gap, her heated gaze stayed locked with mine. Not okay with the idea of her being alone at this time of night, I grabbed my key and went to walk her to her room like the gentleman I normally was not. Seemed Rhyan was changing me in all the best ways possible.
“Don’t,” she said in an almost panic, clutching the files and ancient laptop to her chest. “I need you to stay there, in your room. Please.”
With a stiff nod, I used my foot as a doorstop and motioned down the hall. “I’m not leaving until you’re safely inside. That’s not negotiable.”
She chewed on her lower lip, clearly conflicted. She practically sprinted down the hall and fumbled with her key, though before Rhyan slipped into her room, she turned back my way.
“I had fun tonight,” she said with a hesitant smile.
“Me too.”
My grip on the doorframe tightened, knuckles draining of their bronze color, to keep me from marching down the hall and kissing those parted lips senseless. It was there, the same need and desire flowing through us both, but she held back.
Why?
I had no fucking clue, but I didn’t need to understand. If that was what she wanted, then space was what I would give her.
Only once she disappeared and the click of her door closing whispered down the silent hall did I step back into my room. Back pressed against the door, I groaned and relaxed my head, the door vibrating when it collided with the solid wood. Squeezing both lids shut, I slipped a hand down the front of my sweatpants, beneath my boxer briefs, and fisted my swollen, stiff cock.
A sharp breath hissed through my clenched teeth.
Fucking hell. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this hard without even touching a woman. Lately, it took a lot of foreplay and kink to get me this turned on. Now here I was, my dick ready to punch through a damn wall without a soft, warm body to sink into.
Tightening my snug grip around the base, I yanked the sweatpants and briefs down to my hips, the door’s cool surface tingling my bare ass. The bite of cold air against my dick lodged a groan in my throat. I pumped slowly, tugging my fist to the tip, twisting back to the base as I pictured Rhyan splayed out naked on the bed, red hair fanned out around her, legs spread, sweet weeping pussy begging for me to sink inside.
Her fair skin flushed, breasts moving with each of her heavy pants.
Lips parted, ready to suck me dry.
Oh, how she would scream when I flicked her swollen clit over and over, teasing her to the edge until I fucked her deep with my tongue.
Desire and lust thrummed in my veins. Sweat slicked my skin despite the cold air pumping from the AC unit, beading along my forehead as I continued to work my palm up and down my straining cock.
I was so fucking close to exploding.
Sweats and briefs left piled on the floor, I stormed to the bathroom, ripped back the sheer fabric curtain, and twisted the chrome knob. Freezing water sputtered from the showerhead. Shirt still clinging to my damp skin, I moved under the spray. My barked curse and the pound of my clenched fist against the shitty square tile boomed through the small space.
Chest heaving, I willed my desperate clutch to ease, my hand falling to my side. My swollen dick bobbed in the frigid spray. Squeezing both eyes shut, I interlaced both hands behind my head to keep them from wrapping around my dick and finishing what I stupidly started.
I was a fucking idiot. She deserved better than me fucking my hand to the fantasy of her and me together.
A minute passed, then another, with me inhaling deep breaths through my nose and blowing out harshly through my lips, willing my cock to calm the fuck down. Little by little, the blood flow ebbed, calming my angry dick. I pushed the image of a naked Rhyan from my mind and the imaginary taste of her off my tongue when a sound snapped me from my lust cloud to full alert.
After I shut off the valve, water trickled from above, splashing to the collected water along the tile floor. I held a breath, waiting for the noise that snagged my attention to happen again. Or maybe I was going mad from blue balls. That was a real diagnosis. If it wasn’t, I might be the first case ever.
A light rapping came from the bedroom.
A knock.
I stripped off the soaking wet T-shirt, tossing it to the shower floor, and secured a too-small white towel around my waist. At the door, I paused, eyeing my gun, but didn’t reach for the weapon. There was no doubt in my mind that I could take down anyone with my bare hands with ease, or use my cock as a weapon, if the person at the door came to harm me.
