Sex has never been this easy, this bright. Happy.
Dawn light was seeping through the curtains the last time. She arched into me, and I spooned her tight, nudged her leg up, and slid into her swollen, soft, slippery body. Slow, barely moving.
I don’t know what to call what we did there. Or the feeling expanding in my chest, a raw, open thing, pumping quick and hard.
With my knee, I ease her wide again and cover her with kisses first, then crawl up and give her my weight. My whole body.
She mutters something about the door, giggles, and hides her head under the pillow.
Door? Knocking. Shit. Who the hell is that?
After a final nip at her nipple, I stumble out of bed, snag a blanket from the floor, and wrap it around me. Groggy, happy, I open the door and go still.
“There you are,” Dorothy huffs, stamping on the porch, her breath puffing in the cold. “Figured if you weren’t here, we’d have to drag the lake for your body.”
“What is it?” My mind’s still back in that bed, and my body wants nothing more than to join it.
“We’ve got to get back.”
My brain shifts, refocuses, and slowly wakes all the way up.
“What happened?”
“He did it. The selfish little bastard got a hold of our data.” She grinds her teeth. “Therealdata.”
The floor shifts under my feet. I put a hand on the doorframe to steady myself. “Tell me everything.”
“I’ll tell you on the bus.” Over my shoulder, Dorothy yells, “Get up, buttercup. We’re heading back to Richmond.”
The bus ride back is a hushed, unhappy affair, full of exhausted campers complaining about their retreat getting cut short. When one of them attempts to start up a round of campfire songs, I turnand stare, and within seconds, the happy camper’s shushed. There will be no more messing around. They might not be aware of the threat, but all their jobs are at stake.
I’m on my phone the whole way back, trying to get more information. According to his early-morning phone call with Dorothy, Dane claims to have caught another Sugar App data leak on the dark web. He is, quote, “very concerned.”
What a prick.
When the bus pulls up in front of our building, I’m the first out.
Dorothy and I head upstairs. I barely notice the others, although I feel Rae on the periphery.
Rae. Dammit. Rae. I’ll think about her later. Right now, my mind’s a litany ofI should have caught its andThis is my faults.
My fault, dammit. Never should have left or let myself get distracted or cared about something other than what matters here.
This company. My job. My responsibility.
The fury running like poison through my veins is as much toward myself as it is to the prick sitting in Dorothy’s office when we get in, his face a mask of false concern.
“Real sorry to drag you all back from your little vacation. Staff must hate me right now.”
“It wasn’t a vacation, Dane.” Dorothy’s jaw looks like it’ll crack if she doesn’t loosen it. “It was work. Team building is an important part of what puts us head and shoulders above the competition. It’s like a think tank.”
“Oh! Wow, really? ’Cause… I’ve been loving these pictures up on Insta.” He shoves his phone in our faces, so annoyingly smug.
There’s photo upon photo of people having fun. Dorothy with a wineglass, head thrown back in laughter. Klaus collapsed on the floor mid-limbo.
I go hot and then cold when he gets to the last one, my body turning to granite. It’s Rae and me, during hot potato. Her head’s tilted back as she looks up at me, and she’s wearing this smile, so warm and full of affection. My hand’s on her hip, like it belongs there. And yes, it was in a public place, with other people, but nothing about the way I’m looking at her says work buddies or just pals or people who just share an office.
Looking at this photo is like staring at a naked picture of the two of us, and though it may be irrational, I want to break the man’s face. Just for seeing the photo. For holding it in his hands.
