“Oh, that’s simple.”
“No, it’s not,” I laugh at the eagerness in her voice. “I designed a closed, off-network system for the highest-level employees. Each computer is self-contained—no network sharing, only physical backups. It’s why my system isn't hackable remotely. It would even take me a lot of time I don’t have to hack into my own system. You’ll have to go in physically and get into their computers.”
There is silence for a moment before she chirps excitedly. “Like a spy or an undercover detective.”
I laugh, “Yes, if you like.” I take another sip of my coffee, but it’s already gone cold. “They won’t recognize you, so you’ll beable to gain access to the offices of the suspects without raising any flags.”
“Oh my God, do I get to go in dressed like an IT girl or repair person like in the movies? I'm so wearing glasses and a sexy outfit like the women in those spy shows.” The smile drops from my lips at lightning speed.
“No sexy outfits are required, Fiona.”
“But then how will I distract everyone while I poke around in their computers?”
“Not in a sexy outfit, that’s for sure,” I argue, already picturing the necks I’m going to break if one of those men so much as glances her way. So I try for a different strategy. “Aren’t spies always covered top to bottom in black? Pantsuits or something like that?”
Fiona is silent for a while before she chuckles, her voice soft and seductive. “You’re jealous.”
“Damn right I am,” I push, wishing I were near her so I could show her who she belongs to. “No sexy outfits, Fiona.”
“Hmm, so no crop tops and short skirts?”
I suck in a sharp breath, my dick hardening in seconds. A growl climbs out of my throat at the image of Fiona, all that smooth milky skin barely covered. “Is that what you're wearing right now?”
“No.”
“What are you wearing?”
Long beats of silence follow, and I'm not certain she's going to answer until my phone vibrates in my ear. I pull it down to see she's sent an attachment. I open it, cursing under my breath when I see it's a picture of Fiona in the shortest shorts I’veever seen, exposing those long legs and a white, thin strapped top that reveals the outline of her tits and the hardened peaks of her nipples.
Fuck.
“I don’t think I’d make it past security with this outfit on.”
“Are you trying to kill me?” I groan, staring at the image and picturing the face she left out. Those big blue eyes and that sexy pouty mouth that looked so fucking good stretched around my cock. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want Fiona O’Shea in this moment. I’m tempted to damn all this work to hell and seek her out.
Mine.
Every inch of this girl belongs to me, and I’m afraid of the monster I'll become if anyone else dares to get in the way.
“Don’t you like my outfit?”
Tease. “Take it off,” I order, rubbing a finger over my screen and tracing those luscious tits, wishing for the real thing. “I want you out of those shorts, now.”
“W-what?”
“Do it!”
“Ah… okay.” I hear some shuffling in the background before her soft voice comes back on the line again. “They’re off.”
“The top too.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “Y-you want me naked?”
“Yes, Fiona. I want you naked.” And under me, my hand wrapped around that thick, silky red hair as I thrust my cock into her mouth. Or preferably, those long legs wrapped around my waist as I sink balls deep into her wet pussy. Taking her. Claiming her. “Take them off, then send me a picture.”
She doesn’t protest this time as there’s more shuffling, and when my phone vibrates, my heart damn near jumps to my throat. Whatever ounce of blood I had left in my body all rushes south, and my cock swells even more as I stare at the picture Fiona just sent. She has an arm covering her bare breasts and legs crossed cleverly not to reveal much, but she's naked, alright.
And mine.
