Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(96)

“Trying to hack into your files,” Javier answered her without looking up from the screen. “Using your own program of course.”

She was glad he hadn’t looked up. Her nipples were peaked and hard beneath her thin top and lacy bra. “I see.” She wrapped her arms around Mack’s neck and leaned against his back, careful to keep her tea from spilling, needing to hide her body and feel his warmth at the same time. “Are you getting anywhere?”

“No.” Javier shot her a look of pure malice over his shoulder. “I’m thinking of pulling out a gun and shooting your hard drive.”

“Why didn’t you just come ask me?”

“Would you have given me your password?” Javier challenged.

“No, and I’m thinking of throwing you out of my house and banning you from ever using my equipment again.” Jaimie actually had to work to keep her voice normal. Her tone had gone throaty, almost husky. She didn’t look at Mack when he turned his head to glance at her over his shoulder. She couldn’t. Afraid he might know. He did know. He arched his back enough to put pressure on her sensitive nipples.

She gasped and straightened, trying to look casual, but that slight brush of her breasts against Mack’s back sent arousal sizzling through her veins, from breasts to thighs. She looked down at her hands and found she was trembling. He looked so completely composed while she was a wreck.

She moved away from Mack’s solid frame, putting a little distance between them, to perch on the long desktop. Swinging one leg, she sipped at her tea, glaring at Javier, mostly to avoid looking at Mack.

Javier threw his hands in the air, palms out in surrender. “Mack made me do it. Direct order. You know I always obey.”

“Lightning is about to strike,” she said. She braced herself to look at Mack. It was strange, but she could actually taste him in her mouth. When she drew in air, she felt him in her lungs, as if their energy had knit tightly together and somehow she had left part of herself behind in Mack’s body. She kept her gaze squarely in the middle of his chest. “What do you need, Mack?”

There was a silence, forcing her to meet his eyes. You. Right now. Naked on the floor writhing under me. Screaming. You screaming for me.

She honestly didn’t know if he sent the words into her mind or if she’d answered her own question, but his eyes were predatory. Hungry. He looked as edgy and moody as she felt.

Mack jerked his head and Javier sighed, stood, and then stretched. “If I’m going to be any good to you, I need rest.”

Mack nodded his assent. “We leave in a couple of hours. Have your gear ready. You can sleep on the plane.”

Jaimie’s stomach tightened. She waited until Javier left before she looked at Mack. “You’re leaving?” She had to set her teacup aside so he wouldn’t see her hand tremble.

He stepped close to her, so close she could feel his body heat. His eyes darkened, glittered at her as if she riled him. “You knew I’d have to go. What did you think? That Griffen can live on the run indefinitely? We don’t have a choice here.”

“We could do what I was going to do in the first place, Mack—go to the newspapers, put it on the Internet.”

“They’ll destroy you, Jaimie. Your reputation, everything. You know they will.”

His hand dropped to her knee, just rested there, but she was terribly aware of the heat generated by his palm through her thin drawstring pants. “I hate the mysterious ‘they.’ ‘They’ rule our lives. What are we going to do? Sit around and wait for them to kill us off one by one?”

His gaze met hers. There was absolute purpose there.

Jaimie’s heart jumped. “Mack.”

“I need to know everything you’ve got on Earl Thomas Bartlett, along with every company he’s associated with as well as friends and acquaintances. And don’t tell me you don’t have a file on him, Jaimie.”

She didn’t want to do this, give him the information he needed, but she knew she would. She’d much rather pretend she had found nothing at all, but instead, she nodded slowly. “He’s big, Mack. I know Homeland Security is supposed to have taken over everything, and coordinate with all the various security offices, but you and I both know that’s not altogether true. There are splinter groups that protect their superiors by being very compartmentalized. Everything Bartlett is associated with is shrouded in secrecy. I take it Javier gave you his name.”

His smile was almost worth it. He looked at her as if she was amazing even as he nodded his head. “Javier found a reference to him on the computer you let him use. How did you find him?” His hand moved, made little circles just above her knee.

Jaimie wasn’t certain he even realized how much he disturbed her with his touch, how her body responded even though they were talking about something so important. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “His name kept coming up. There was an obscure newspaper article I read. It should have been on the front page, but ended up buried. I knew the reporter had stumbled onto something big. Bartlett’s name is on several small shell companies. Each owns a private jet and seems legitimate. In fact, the companies file taxes and never turn much of a profit, everything very under the radar.”

“What kind of companies?” His hand moved up her thigh, those lazy circles getting wider. Closer. More compelling.