The Hacker (The Bro Series Book 2) Page 12

  I spread her thighs wider and allow my tongue to give her clit a forceful flick. The gasp freed is almost lost upon me as I repeat the action just to have her body thrust itself back at me.

  To have it submit to everything I wanna deliver.

  My fingers dig firmly into the thickness of her ass while my mouth hastily travels their direction. I deliver one, long, languorous lick against the tight hole that manages to turn me into a votarist who is unwilling to stop until I overdose on her screams.

  Against my earlier warning, she loudly cries, “God, Holden!”

  Fervidly, my tongue oscillates on a path of delicious destruction, tearing apart her ass with thrust after thrust before relocating to her pussy that seems to swell from the lightest touch. Meena’s moans continuously attempt to morph into screams. Each time her voice teeters on the edge of too loud, I deliver a swift swat to her ass that makes her body tremble. While my cock strains for attention in my jeans, it’s easy to ignore.

  I haven’t had a woman on my tongue in years.

  Since the night Beth died.

  Since the night I betrayed my family.

  The dark thoughts spur my tongue to act barbarically to banish the shame being sexual always manages to bring me. Her body struggles from its captured position yet her mouth can’t stop begging for more. With my face pressed firmly against her wet pussy, I ruthlessly whirl my tongue around her clit, collecting a long overdue orgasm in the process.

  Meena sings a symphony of Spanish praises, my name scattered between each one.

  More in love with her body now that I’ve had a proper taste, I soak myself in its surrender to me. Bathe her pussy clean until I’m convinced the taste of her cum is permanently engraved on my tongue as a reminder to return soon.

  When I finally slip away and back onto my feet, her limp body can barely hold itself up. Pride pumps through my veins and I hungrily press my jean covered cock against the very area I just conquered.

  One hand winds itself around the ends of her hair to tug her face back to mine. My mouth descends hers, impetuously pushing my tongue against hers. Another moan seeps free. I hastily soak it up almost completely unaware of the unexpected additional sound in the room.

  Meena manages to pull my mouth from hers. “Es tu teléfon.”

  The last words registers and I quickly step back to remove the device from my pocket.

  Seeing Murphy’s name not only creates a new level of resentment towards him, but forces my mind to register what I’ve just done.

  What I shouldn’t have done.

  What I just fucking risked.

  The 1 I shouldn’t have pressed.

  I shake my head slowly at the same time I answer the call. “Reiss.”

  “You got your request granted.”

  “What?”

  “Your request for the photos of a young agent to manipulate as bait. Brewster approved it and I’ll be sending you the images now. She also wants a copy of your creation for our records. Are you ready to receive them?”

  My eyes cut a glance of the half-naked woman dangling from a bathroom door.

  Not exactly…

  “Give me five minutes.”

  I end the call and quickly inform, “Something has come up for work.”

  There isn’t an ounce of annoyance on her face, only understanding.

  I don’t deserve that.

  I don’t deserve her.

  “I um…I need to get to my office.”

  Meena nods and removes herself from the position she was pretending to be stuck in.

  She was never really at my mercy.

  She could’ve escaped at any time, but stayed.

  Let me feel like a man who truly owned his woman.

  Fuck.

  She’s not mine to have.

  She wiggles her hands free and opens the door without saying another word.

  I begin to awkwardly slip by when instinct over the proximity of our closeness crushes me. My hands yank her to me by the edge of her t-shirt and my tongue rolls around hers, melting her against me all over again. This time when she abruptly pulls back her lips are swollen, her cheeks are flushed, and she appears unable to catch her breath.

  The sexy vision causes me to smirk as I return to exiting the room.

  Need collides with want in the forefront of my mind creating a cluster of confusion I can’t handle.

  At least not right now.

  Right now, I have an auction site to infiltrate.

  I have freedom to gain.

  I have a future to earn…a future that might just include her if I can figure out how the hell to make this work without wrecking the stable relationship my children are now dependent on.

  That I’m becoming dependent on…

  Mia pulls back the dressing room curtain revealing a strapless light green and white dress with a corset top and short tulle bottom. She strikes a pose with her phone held out in front of her, lips pouted.

  I shake my head and lean back in the chair I’ve been waiting in for what feels like hours.

  Watching my baby sister parade around in the sluttiest dresses she can find for homecoming is exhausting. I suggest something a little longer and she immediately goes the opposite direction. I make a casual comment that it would be a good look with her hair up, she goes on and on about how she’ll wear it down or add extensions to it for a more dramatic effect. Over the years, I’ve mastered the art of dealing with all of my siblings, especially during their teen fits. Most of course were handled via text or over the phone because of my decision to travel for work. Tantrums and tears were soothed with just the right combination of words to keep them as well as my parents sane. Eventually, video chats helped and added another level of ‘confidential’ conversations to our relationships, allowing me to continue my reign of trusted big sister. Life with Mia is different. I’m here. I’m physically here to help guide and encourage yet I feel further away than I have with all the others.

  “Do you have to take pictures of every dress you try on?”

  “Of course I do,” she sassily snaps. “My followers need to experience every moment with me.”

  Do they really?

  I bite back the bitter sarcasm dancing on my tongue. “Maybe you should leave them wanting more?”

  “Absolutely not! Are you cray?”

  Oh, I’m the crazy one? Not the sixteen-year-old with so called followers who are probably really just stalkers in the making.

  Oh my God, I sound like Holden.

  Gotta get out more than this.

  “Look,” Mia flips her hair over her shoulder, “I’m constantly being scouted by talent agencies because of my posts about my wardrobe and make up. And I know you’re totally against me modeling-”

  “I am not.”

  “but big things are going to happen for me! I’m not going to stop showing them why they should sign me!”

  Her overdramatic tantrum shifts me uncomfortably in my seat.

  Ugh. She sounds like a more articulate version of Sage except instead of the conversation being about my refusal to let the entourage of My Little Ponies subjugate the household, it’s my subtle refusal to let random strangers control how she conducts herself online.

  “When did I become the enemy here? I’m the one who has Holden check all the agencies you’ve given me. It’s not my fault they’re fakes, Mia.”

  All three of them so far. After the guy at the mall gave her his card, a couple weeks later she got an email, couple weeks after that a direct message on IG with a link. All fake. All scams of some sort. All shut down now, thanks to Holden.

  It pleases him to protect people.

  It pleases him to protect any extension of me…

  “How do I know they really were and you weren’t just having su novio-”

  “Jefe-”

  “Lie and say that they were to help mom and papi stop me from chasing my dream!?”

  The rant fuels rage inside of me I know better than to give into. “You thi
nk I’m helping our parents sabotage tu carrera inexistente?”

  She folds her arms across her chest. “Si.”

  “¿Por qué? Why would I do that to you?”

  “Because you’re jealous,” the venom in her voice pains as intended. “You’re jealous that you didn’t look this good when you were my age and were so busy trying to raise us that you never went out and chased your own damn dreams.”

  Her hurtful words render me speechless.

  No, I didn’t look like her at 16, partially due to my hormone imbalance, but mainly because I knew the consequences of trying to flash my ass for cash, a concept completely lost upon her. She’s fortunate enough to have been primarily raised in the suburbs. To be able to ignore what life was like when they had to make due with half a sandwich since money was tight for the week. Unlike her I knew girls who showed that much cleavage and ass because they were being prostituted out at fourteen or gang affiliated at fifteen. She’s right in the aspect I was too busy trying to help shelter the others. But wrong about the dream. My dream was to help raise kids and I successfully did that with them. Well…most of them. She’s proving my track record isn’t perfect.

  All of a sudden, my phone interrupts the conversation.

  Grateful for the change, I pull it out of my wristlet, and promptly answer when I see who it is. “This is Miss Flores.”

  “Hello, Miss Flores, this is Nurse Kraumwell with Moon and Stars Childhood Academy.”

  “Yes. Is everything okay?”

  “I called Mr. Reiss, but there was no answer. You are marked on her records as her secondary caregiver?”

  “Yes.”

  “Unfortunately, Sage is running a minor fever of 100. Policy states any fever at this level is required to be picked up by a parent and kept home for a full 24 hours. However, since it’s Friday, she just needs to have been fever free for a full 24 hours before you drop her off on Monday.”

  “Of course. Of course. Is she…acting strangely?”

  “Her teacher mentioned she had been a little lethargic and she skipped her morning snack. She’s currently lying on the cot in my office, barely able to keep her eyes open.”

  My heart sinks. “Poor little Sunshine.”

  There’s a hum from the woman on the other end. “We will need you to come sign her out as soon as possible.”

  “Right.” I steal a glance at my youngest sister who has moved onto to recording a video. “I’ll be there in half an hour or less.”

  “Thank you for your promptness.”

  “Of course.”

  As soon as I end the call, I prepare to speak to my sister, but she lifts a finger for me to wait until she’s finished. Once she’s done, she lowers the phone, and announces, “Thousands of viewers were just watching my LIVE video! You should see how many viewers love this dress!”

  The dress that looks like something from a trashy Easter collection? Probably not. They most likely love the view it gives them of her tits.

  “Mia, I have to go pick up Sage from school. She’s sick.”

  Her pout is immediate. “But we weren’t done shopping.”

  “And I’m sorry about that hermanita, but if you want your dream dress, which I know isn’t going to be at a dream price for our parents, I suggest you let me do my job, so I can pay for it.”

  Her eyes light up. “You’re going to buy my dress?!”

  “Assuming you don’t accuse me of being jealous again.”

  She quickly shakes her head. “Lo siento, Meena! Seriously! Totally! I didn’t mean it.”

  Not sure if she’s telling the truth or just saying what needs to be heard to buy whatever she wants, I offer her a sweet smile. “Get changed and I’ll drop you off at Hil’s a little early. Maybe you two can come back up later and continue the hunt.”

  “We’re going to the gym and tanning later. I don’t know that we’ll have time…” She rambles off to herself at the same time she enters the changing room. “Maybe we can on Sunday? I’m running out of time! It’s like two weeks away!”

  “I’ll…see what I can do,” I let out a defeated sigh.

  The last thing I want is to disappoint her, but if Holden gets caught up in work this weekend and Sage isn’t any better, I can’t just skip out to go shopping. She’ll need me. And technically I get paid to be there. It’s my job…even if it is a job I wish I was doing for free. Unfortunately, after the mouth bang he delivered, which made it hard to walk right for the rest of the day, he retreated back to his old ways. No flirting. No provocative glances. Not even any indication he intends on ever having something like that happen between us again. These past six days are probably the longest I’ve ever had under his roof. Ugh. Why do I get the nagging feeling the worst of the cold shoulder blizzard has yet to come?

  After dropping Mia off and picking up Sage, I get the two of us settled at home. She battles me in tears about not wanting to eat while I microwave her mac and cheese, but the moment it’s in front of her she inhales it along with a glass of orange juice. Once she’s taken some medicine we both change into comfy pajamas and lie in my bed to watch cartoons together.

  I opt for a movie knowing as soon as she falls asleep it’s what I am going to be stuck watching until she wakes up. With my body slightly propped up on my pillows, Sage arranges her tiny head on my stomach, angled to watch the television. To no surprise, it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes for the medicine to kick in and her little snores to start.

  One hand tucks itself comfortably behind my head while the other gently rubs her back in hopes of providing a little extra comfort.

  “Meena!” Holden’s voice shouts loudly from the other room. “Meena!”

  Rather than risk waking Sage up, I wait patiently for him to round the corner into my room.

  “Meena! Where the-”

  My finger flies to my lips as his face appears in my doorway.

  Whatever panic that had taken hold vanishes. His shoulders drop at the same time his hand clutches his chest. Quietly, he questions, “Is she okay?”

  “Just a little fever,” I reply back in a stage whisper. “Gave her lunch and some meds. She just fell asleep.”

  He cautiously approaches. “Want me to move her?”

  I shake my head slowly. “Let her rest here for a bit. Move her now and she might not go back down as easy.”

  Holden nods and stills his body at the edge of my bed. His attention falls back to his daughter and the sadness in his eyes is crushing. “I should’ve answered the call.”

  “You-”

  “She needed me.”

  “You-”

  “I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. I’m always there…”

  “Holden,” I interrupt the self-deprecation receiving eye contact. “Stop beating yourself up. You were clearly working.”

  And looking like a wet dream in that designer suit.

  It’s always black pants, black jacket, and a white shirt. The color of the tie occasionally changes, but how sexy he looks in it never does.

  “This is what I’m here for, remember?”

  He gives me a short smile and motions his head towards us. “Mind if I join in?”

  I push away the urge to contemplate that this means more than what it appears to be. “There’s always room for you.”

  Holden carefully lowers himself on the other side of Sage, lies on his side, and replaces my hand with his. We shift ourselves, so we’re each using one hand like a pillow, though my free one rests at the top of my mid-section.

  Still maintaining the soft volume, he asks, “Has she been complaining about any pains? You think I should take her to the doctor? Get her checked out?”

  I try not to smirk. “Do you always panic like this when they get sick?”

  “Yes and no.” He gives her back a gentle stroke. “It’s always been me around when they get this way. Even when Beth was alive, I was always the one who took them to the doctor, who gave their medicine, who held them until they could stop crying
long enough to fall asleep. I’m not used to this.” Holden finally locks eyes with me. “But I damn sure appreciate it.”

  How the hell do I tell my hopes not to bother getting up after hearing some shit like that?

  Instead of focusing on what he has made very clear will never happen and damn sure won’t happen with a four-year-old wedged between us, I ask, “Everything okay with work?”