Chapter Thirty

Harvard

Waking up with Sami curled beside me and Lunchmeat purring in my face was definitely in my top three favorite ways to wake up, but as the afternoon wore on, my mood began to sour. Despite my earlier success with tracking down the Noisy Cricket, I wasn’t getting much else done. My mother was proving surprisingly elusive. The last trace of her I could find had been in Boston, living with a lawyer who looked like a real winner, all sparkling white teeth and bad comb-over. He went to jail for securities fraud six months ago, and she apparently dropped off the face of the digital earth. Even searching for credit cards under the lawyer’s name yielded me nothing. His bank accounts had been frozen, and she’d never been good at saving, so she was penniless.

Explained why she had tracked me down. She hadn’t needed me as long as she had another man to mooch off.

It didn’t make any sense that I couldn’t find her after her man du jour was arrested. She had to be staying at a hotel in Jackson or one of the nearby ski resorts, but she wasn’t on any of the guest lists I’d hacked. She was using an alias, which begged the question—where had she gotten an alias good enough not to raise any red flags in my searches?

Who was she working with? Nomad?

That thought sent a shiver of dread rattling through me.

“Yes!” At her desk across the room, Sami straightened away from her keyboard and pumped both fists in the air.

Grateful for the break, I pushed away from my computer and walked over to see her screen. “Got something?”

“I found the email that gave our hacker access to Blaze’s laptop. It looks like one of your regular update emails, but as far as I can tell, it only went to Blaze.” She tilted her head back to grin up at me. “He probably clicked on the link without thinking twice about it.”

“And gave them free access to his computer. When did the email arrive?”

She consulted her screen again and winced. “The night of the original hack.”

“Jesus. See if you can trace the email.”

“I’m already on it,” she said, fingers flying across the keys. “But I don’t get how he made the battery overheat. Batteries are a dumb component. They have no code. They don’t talk to anything.”

“No, that’s not entirely true.” I walked back over to my desk. I wanted to hover because she was making more progress than I was, but I knew how annoying it could be to have someone staring over your shoulder while you worked. My teammates did it to me all the time. “Batteries have to talk to your laptop. That little battery gauge? There’s a chip in there that tells the computer how well it’s working.”

“Oh, dammit.” She blew out a long breath. “And a chip means it’s hackable.”

“Uh-huh. And all you need to access the battery’s firmware is a couple of passwords. Most manufacturers don’t scramble the passwords before the batteries leave the factory, so once you have them, you have access to any battery that manufacturer released. Once you have access, it’s just a matter of installing malware.”

“It makes no sense,” she mused, more to herself than me. “He can’t be getting anything useful out of this. Batteries contain no personal info. And then once he bricks a battery—or in this case, blows it up—he can’t ask a ransom to undo it. It’s already dead, gone.” She shook her head and frowned. “So what’s he accomplishing other than causing chaos?”

My fingers froze on my keyboard. Did she know about my past? I glanced in her direction, but she was still working her keyboard. The word choice didn’t seem deliberate. I told myself to relax. “Destruction. Harm.”

My voice must have given too much away, because she looked up sharply. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

I rose from my desk on the pretext of needing more coffee. We’d already finished one pot, and I went through the motions of measuring out more grounds on autopilot. I didn’t actually need any more caffeine. I was already a wired, jittery mess. It was just easier to talk with my back to her. “During my misspent youth, I got a kick out of bricking the batteries of people I didn’t like. And there were a lot of people I didn’t like. You know how mean teenagers can be to a normal kid?” I switched on the coffeemaker and watched it burble for a long moment. “I wasn’t normal. I was a twelve-year-old high school senior already accepted into an Ivy League college.”

Sami walked over to me, wrapped her arms around me from behind, and pressed her face to my spine. Slowly, my bunched muscles relaxed, and I released the breath I’d been holding. Every time I peeled away another layer, exposed more of myself to her, I expected rejection. And every time, she surprised me with tender acts of acceptance. Was it any wonder I loved her?

“You were exceptional, and they resented that.” I felt her breath, warm through my T-shirt, as she pressed a kiss between my shoulder blades. “Why didn’t you go to Harvard? You would have been celebrated there.”

I gave a mirthless laugh. “And I would’ve given my mom a free meal ticket for raising a child prodigy. Once she realized what I could do, she used me to keep herself in the spotlight. She fawned over me in front of the cameras and ignored me when nobody was watching. She fully expected me to go to Harvard and make her rich, all while she made my life hell. So I ran away.”

“You ran away at twelve?”

“Thirteen. I waited until after high school graduation.”

“But…why?”

“It’s a long story.”

A beat of silence stretched between us.

Sami waited patiently, never prodding for more and never letting go of me. I took comfort in her embrace. It anchored me in a way I’d never felt before. I knew I should turn around, meet her gaze, and just spill everything now. But…I couldn’t. Not everything. Not if I didn’t have to. She’d hate me.

I would tell her about Mom, though. If Kimberly was a part of this, Sami needed to know. Still, I didn’t turn. This story was easier told with my back to her.

“Mom was sixteen when she got pregnant. She claimed it was rape. And maybe it was, but she changed her story so many times investigators couldn’t make anything stick. The charges against the guy who is most likely my father were dropped, and he and his family moved away. Didn’t stop her from reminding me of my origin story, though. Every chance she got, she told me I was lucky to be alive, I was lucky she hadn’t aborted me, and I owed her for keeping me. She really believes that.”

Sami’s arms tightened around me. “And I thought my parents were bad.”

“She’s mean and manipulative and greedy.” I turned to face her and set my hands on her shoulders. “Which is why I think she’s behind these hacks.”

Sami drew back, her eyes wide with surprise. “She knows computers?”

“No, but she’d know how to find someone who does. It’s no coincidence she showed up right when all of this started.”

“Then we need to find her.”

I nodded. “I’m already looking. You focus on the digital breadcrumbs from that email Blaze got.”

Her computer let out a dragon screech, and we both looked at it. She grinned up at me. “We might have just found Nomad.”

She hurried over and scrolled through her results. I watched the excitement drain from her expression and knew before she spoke that it wasn’t going to be so easy.

She dropped into her Iron Throne and scowled. “Indo-fucking-nesia. No. No way he’s there. He’s cloaked himself.”

“Not surprised,” I said as I poured us both a mug of coffee. I carried hers over and set it on her desk next to the Darth Vader stress ball she regularly abused whenever she was frustrated. “This guy has skills.”

She ignored the coffee and reached for poor Vader. “Yeah, well, so do I.”

I leaned over and kissed the top of her head because—and I wouldn’t say this out loud because I like my balls where they are, thanks—she was adorable when she was annoyed. Kinda like an angry hedgehog. “He doesn’t stand a chance against you, Geek Girl.”

“Us, Nerd Boy,” she shot back and gave Vader an emphatic squeeze that made him look terrified. “He doesn’t stand a chance against us. Any luck on your end?”

“No, not yet.” I dropped another kiss to the top of her head. “Keep at it.”

“Oh, I still have a couple tricks up my sleeves.” She rolled up sleeves she wasn’t wearing and mock-snarled at the computer before attacking the work again, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in determination. She used to play with her lip ring like that, and I wondered if she missed it.

God knew I missed it.

I watched her for a moment, just soaking her in. Her hair was a messy knot of black and blond on top of her head. She muttered to her computer as she worked, sometimes cursing in the most creative ways under her breath. She wore my Nigerian prince T-shirt—the same one I’d worn the first night we met. When looking through my closet this morning, she’d said it was her favorite.

It was how she’d known I was her kind of guy.

I have to admit, the shirt was fast becoming my favorite, too. It was too big, so she’d tied it in a knot at her hip, which pulled it tight across her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra—she’d left it in the washing machine back at my place—and her nipples poked against the fabric. She’d also borrowed an old pair of sweatpants that had shrunk and no longer fit me. They were still too big on her, and yet I had never seen anything sexier on any woman.

She glanced up at me with an arched brow. “Are you going to work or stare at me all day?”

I grinned, and it felt good. “I can multitask.”

She snorted. “Multitask over at your station, Nerd Boy. You’re bugging me.”

I bowed. It seemed appropriate, since she was sitting on the Iron Throne. “Yes, my queen.”

“Oh, you keep up that kind of talk and you might just get lucky later.”

There was no might about it. It had taken every ounce of willpower I possessed to pull away from her this morning. I would not have the same self-control tonight.

Something to look forward to.

Keeping that thought firmly in mind, I plopped down behind my computer and dug into the dark web. A world I was very familiar with, but one I didn’t venture into much anymore. At one time, pimping out my hacking services here had been my only means of survival. Sami had never said as much, but I knew she had done the same until joining Class Alpha. I used my old hacker name to check the message boards because I had a feeling that whoever was behind this knew me best by that handle. My hope was it would cause a stir, draw attention.

And, yup, it certainly did all of that.

I left messages promising a large bitcoin reward for info on whoever was attacking me. If this hacker wanted war, they were messing with the wrong guy. I had the power to raise an entire digital army. I’d done it before, and I’d do it again if it meant keeping Sami safe.

Then, after several seconds of indecision, I visited one of the boards I’d frequented the most way back when. It had been my kingdom and was still immortalized in the annals of hackerdom. If my nemesis was anywhere, they’d be here.

You hurt my friends again, I’ll ruin you.

I stole a glance at Sami. She wore headphones and was deep in her zone, unaware of anything but what was happening on her screen. I drew a breath and then signed it—A.K.A. Khaos.

Yes, it was a risk. She could visit these same message boards and put the pieces together. I knew I had to tell her sooner or later that I had been the one to ruin her life. Because I’d made the deal with the CIA and the FBI hadn’t been able to touch me, they’d gone after everyone below me in my organization. I was the reason she’d gone to juvie, and she deserved to know before things got any hotter between us.

I just didn’t know how to tell her. Every time I opened my mouth, I’d picture her smiling at me, or teasing me, or gasping in pleasure under me, and I’d lose my nerve. She was the most important thing to me. More important than my job, which had been my whole world before I met her.

If she knew the truth, I’d lose her. I was sure of it.

I didn’t want to lose her.

Maybe it was my impending sense of doom, but I suddenly, desperately needed to touch her. Just hold her in my arms and feel her heart beating against my chest. I was across the room before I’d consciously made the decision to go to her.

I pulled off her headphones and set them aside. The Game of Thrones theme song blasted from the speakers. I smiled—that was so like her—as I took her mouth in a kiss that I hoped told her how much she meant to me. I poured all of my desperation, my sorrow, my fear, my love into the kiss. Someday, I hoped she’d realize this was an apology.

I hadn’t known her back when I was Khaos. If I had, maybe I’d have made different choices, taken more responsibility for my actions. Until she told me her story, I hadn’t realized the ball I’d set in motion had rolled downhill and squashed everyone below me.

When I broke the kiss, she smiled at me and cupped my stubbled cheek in her hand. So full of trust. It broke my heart.

“What was that for?” she asked, a little breathless.

“Just needed to kiss you.”

She stroked my cheek. “You know, we could take a break. You promised me later, and it’s later.”

My heart seized. I should tell her the truth now. I shouldn’t touch her again until I did. It wasn’t fair to her, but I can be a selfish bastard sometimes, and I wanted her again so badly it hurt. I scooped her out of her throne and sat down with her on my lap, her legs spread open across my hips. I tugged on her pants, and she lifted up enough to wiggle them off. She wasn’t wearing underwear. I slid a finger down her slit and found her hot, soaked with need. She shivered and leaned forward, capturing my earlobe between her lips.

“I’ve fantasized about this,” she gasped and started rocking against the two fingers I slid inside her. “Doing this with you in the lab.”

“So have I. Come here.” I withdrew from her and gripped her hips, dragging her up so I could taste her. She had to straddle the arms and grip the back of the throne to bring herself level with my mouth, but she didn’t complain about the awkward position. I parted her folds and found her clit swollen, all but begging for my tongue, so I gave it to her. She arched back and let out a low, sexy moan that sent my blood thundering to my cock. I was so hard, I was going to burst out of my jeans if I didn’t unzip soon.

As Sami rode my tongue, I reached down with my free hand and released myself. My flesh felt hot to my own hand, and I knew I wasn’t going to last long once I was inside her. She had to come first. I let go of my cock and grabbed her hips, focusing all of my attention on her. I flicked my gaze up her body, watching as she gasped and writhed with the pleasure. Her orgasm was close, if the tight handfuls she grabbed of my hair were any indication. Her body tightened, coiled, and she cried out as a shudder shook through her. I tasted her orgasm, drank it down, loving every second of it.

She released her grip on my hair and melted against me. “Oh my God.”

Yeah, I grinned. I was feeling more than a bit smug. “Did I make you feel good?”

“So good.”

My cock kicked against her inner thigh at the praise, and her smile turned impish. She reached between us to stroke me. “Let me do the same for you now.”

I groaned and settled back in the chair to give her better access. “I want inside you.”

“I want that, too.”

She lifted herself up, but I caught her hips, stopping her.

“Wait. Are you on birth control?” I already knew we were both clean. I was the only man she’d ever been with, and I was tested regularly as part of my twice-yearly physicals for HORNET. But if she wasn’t on a contraceptive, this had to stop now because all of my condoms were at home. “We can stop if you want me to wear a condom.”

She stared down at me with glazed eyes. “I got the shot when I joined the program. We are not stopping.” She stood my cock upright at her entrance and sank down my length.

Thank God. Stopping would have killed me. I’d have died of the worst case of blue balls in history.

I’m lucky I didn’t lose it at that first slick slide of flesh against flesh. I’d never been with anyone without the barrier of a condom, and she felt better than I could have even imagined. She took all of me, then stopped. She just sat there, her eyes wide, her inner muscles clenching around me.

Shaking, sweat gathering along my hairline, I waited for her to realize she held all the power here. Waited for her to move. It was torture. The best kind.

She sucked in a sharp breath and finally, finally rocked her hips. She gasped, squeezed her eyes shut, and then moved again, this time lifting herself up until I nearly fell out of her, then sliding back down. I let go of her hips before I left fingerprint-sized bruises and gripped the arms of the chair so hard the leather squeaked. I was both fascinated and frustrated by her slow experimentation.

She moved again, finding a sensuous rhythm that made my eyes roll back. I was so close, right on the edge of control. I wasn’t going to last. I’d already made her come once, but I wanted her to come again while I was inside her. I reached between our bodies, searching for that tight little bud that always sent her flying. The angle was all wrong, and with her moving as she was, I couldn’t get at it. With a growl of frustration, I scooped her up. She squeaked in surprise, then gasped when I turned her toward the desk, instructed her to bend over, and slid into her again from behind. This position gave me prime access to her clit. She writhed against my hand and clawed at the desktop. She was fighting the second orgasm.

I groaned and leaned over to nip at her shoulder. “You’re killing me, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m inside you.”

“I can’t,” she gasped. “It’s too much. Too much. Oh…” She shook as I drove into her, harder, more desperate.

“Let me feel you, Samira. Let go. Trust me.”

And, finally, she did. She shuddered again, and her inner walls clamped around me, holding me fast as I tried to withdraw. I gripped her hips and pounded into her as she screamed through her orgasm. And then I joined her, coming so hard I was half-afraid my balls had imploded.

“Jesus.” I collapsed against her back, for a moment too weak to do anything but taste our mingled sweat and listen to her breath saw in and out of her lungs. “Sami…” I wanted to say more, but I couldn’t put my thoughts and feelings into adequate words. She was brilliant and beautiful and the best sex I’d ever had. She rocked my world in all the best ways, and I had absolutely zero idea how to tell her without sounding corny or scaring her away.