Hopefully there will be another chance. I run my hands over my ass again, replaying the spanking. Leaning my forehead against the tile, I bring my fingers between my legs.
Ohhh. I’ve never been so slick and swollen. I imagine Jackson stepping into the shower with me, his huge frame crowding me back against the wall. He’d order me to place my hands on the wall and slap my ass until I beg him to stop, then he’d grip my hips and plow into me from behind. I pull up on my fingers, undulating them between my legs.
A second climax rips through me, and my head swims from the heat. I breathe deeply until the stars clear then I shut off the spray.
When I step out, my wet clothes are gone, and a towel and a neatly folded MIT sweatshirt sit on the counter.
A flush of embarrassment washes through me. Did he come in while I was masturbating? I grab the towel and dry off then pull on the warm sweatshirt. It’s huge on me, falling to mid-thigh like a sweater dress, which is good, since he didn’t leave me any panties. I love wearing something that belongs to him. I pull it to my nose, breathing in his faint scent.
I can’t stop thinking about his thick fingers moving inside me, and I’m suddenly dying for the full package. Getting my V-card punched by Jackson King would be the ultimate hacker girl fantasy fulfillment. But no, this isn’t about checking a box, or having a famous person.
It’s about the sheer animal attraction between Jackson and I. I felt it in the elevator before I even knew who he was. I loved the take-charge way he handled me there as much as I loved being bent over his bathroom countertop for a spanking.
I search for a brush, but this seems to be a guest bathroom. There are no personal items anywhere, just cleaning supplies and toilet paper. I tear my fingers through my wet hair and head out.
The house-mansion, really-is enormous. I follow the curved staircase downstairs and follow sounds of movement to a huge, open kitchen.
The man standing behind the enormous granite-topped island eating cold cuts from the container with his fingers isn’t Jackson, though.
“Oh, hey,” I say inanely, giving a small wrist wave.
He’s young-my age or younger-with blond hair that is straggly and wet like mine. The lean muscles of his arms are covered with tattoos, and both his ears are stretched with rings. He has the still bearing of a predator, and he watches me approach without moving.
I tug down the hem of Jackson’s sweatshirt. “I’m, uh, Kylie,” I offer, hoping to get an introduction back.
“Sam.” Somehow I get the feeling he doesn’t like me.
Fuck. Is Jackson gay? “Are you and Jackson…?”
His cold demeanor cracks with a flicker of a smile. “He’s my brother.”
I gape. Clearly not a blood brother. They look nothing alike. “Looks like you were, um, out in the rain, too.”
The young man doesn’t answer.
“I see you’ve met Sam.” Jackson’s deep voice sends tremors through my body, like after-quakes from my climax. Climaxes. Plural. Because he was certainly responsible for both.
I look from Jackson’s huge mountain man frame and dark hair to the lean muscled fair man, and I’m not convinced they’re not lovers. Especially because Sam shoots Jackson a What the fuck? look.
Why does that make me desperate to stake my claim on Jackson? But it’s not my right. I am in big trouble with my employer and my blackmailers, and we need to make a game plan.
“Do you want to see what’s on that thumb drive?” I ask. The envelope with the threat and thumb drive disappeared from the bathroom while I was showering. Even though nothing terrible has happened yet, I’m still not sure I made the right choice coming here. Trusting someone other than family. I remember how badly that turned out for my father.
Jackson gives me a cool nod. “Yeah. I’ll take a look at it,” he says dismissively.
I hate getting the dis on this. I mean, I’m a hacker through and through. I need to see the code, know what they were planning. Especially because it involves me. “May I see it?”
Jackson considers me for a moment. “You didn’t look before you brought it over here?” Despite the fact we just shared the hottest and most intimate moment of my life upstairs, he’s returned to Mr. All Business. His face could be carved out of granite.
I shake my head. “Want to look at it now?” I don’t add the together that’s on my lips.
“I want to look at it first,” he says. “Alone.”
Alarm bells go off. Did I make a mistake bringing this here? Not handling things on my own? Now my fate is in his hands, and I still don’t know how he’s going to play things. “I’m pretty good with hacks, too.”
His eyes narrow. “So I recall.” He looks at Sam. “My new employee turns out to be the only hacker who ever busted my code.”
I can’t figure out if he’s still pissed or if I detect a note of admiration there.
“And she allegedly just received a blackmail letter asking her to install malware into our system in exchange for silence about her hacker identity.”
Allegedly. The blow hits me like a hand grenade in the solar plexus. He doesn’t believe me? Of course not. Why would he? Just because we both would like to get each other naked doesn’t mean we should trust each other.
Except I do want to trust him. And it’s probably just my misguided teen crush, but I desperately want Jackson to trust me back.
But hell, maybe his plan is to turn me over to the cops just as soon as he knows what he’s dealing with.