Naked Sushi. Jina Bacarr
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if you were sleeping with the whole department,” she said, twitching her nose at me like a squirrel. “On company time.”
“That is so not true, Ms. Sims,” I protested, waving the papers around in a circle. “The guy flirted with me and then kissed me. It went downhill from there.” I didn’t tell her that I came on to him, never dreaming where it would lead: straight to paradise until the machine went wonky.
“I warned Mr. Briggs this would happen if he hired a female programmer.” “That has nothing to do with it, Ms. Sims,” I said. “I’m a good employee. I’m always here on time, and I work late. I even put the toilet paper on the spool in the girls’ bathroom the way you like it.” Over, not under. Ms. Sims liked to be in control of everything, even where you took a pee.
She pushed her dangly earrings off her shoulders and then motioned for me to hand her the documents. “Let me see what you were working on.”
“These papers aren’t mine—” I insisted, handing her the wrinkled sheets of paper.
“Then whose are they?” She grabbed them out of my hand, nearly tearing them in half.
“The new video game designer,” I insisted. “I found him in here making copies.”
“You’re lying. He doesn’t start until next week.” She held the papers flush against her flat chest so I couldn’t see them.
“What?” I blurted out, disbelieving. My thighs quivered and not in a good way. I’d been played, but by whom?
“No more excuses, Pepper. I want answers. Now!” she screeched.
“I—I...” Nothing came out. I swallowed hard and squeezed my butt cheeks together until they burned. Of all the low-down, dirty tricks, this was the worst. The geeky types I work with must have sent the stud here to punk me. Oh, my God, what if they’d set up a hidden camera in here? What if my big moment had already gone viral on the internet? Oh, shit, I was had.
“Admit it,” Ms. Sims said, prodding me. “You sneaked a man in here and had sex with him while you copied confidential documents.”
“I did not copy any docs,” I said, trying to convince myself it was just a practical joke. It couldn’t be anything else, could it?
“Then what were you doing with Mr. Briggs’s—” she cleared her throat “—tax returns. They’re not for your eyes or anyone else’s.”
I shook my head, not getting it. Why would this prankster make copies of my boss’s classified information? Unless—
Red and blue lights flashed on and off in my brain like a squad car was chasing me. It all made sense. How the stud was surprised to see me, asking me if I was security, and reaching in his sweats for what I bet was a gun. Then sweet-talking me into letting him kiss me while he felt me up. Checking me for a weapon, I bet. And I unbuttoned my jeans flap to help him. Talk about dumb chick moves. That was the dumbest.
“That guy was a thief,” I said under my breath. That statement knocked the wind out of me.
That was only the beginning of my downfall.
I leaned against the copier and tried to zip up my jeans but couldn’t. Wetness greeted my fingers along with a pungent smell both sweet and musky. Panic filled me.
What if the condom had broken?
With that disturbing thought racing through my brain, I vaguely heard Ms. Sims babbling on about how she’d come back to the office to get her cell phone. When she heard the alarm go off, she ran to the copy room. A tall man wearing a baseball cap and black sweats knocked her down and rushed past her. When she opened the door and found me with my jeans down, she assumed I had invited him in.
I tried to explain to her what happened, but she wouldn’t listen to me. That didn’t surprise me. She had this thing against hiring girls who wrote code.
That was just the excuse she needed.
She fired me.
The bitch.
* * *
FBI Special Agent Steve Raines had a plan for this evening’s mission—pick the old-fashioned lock on the back door of the Victorian mansion with the skills he’d learned as a kid from his older brother and then sneak upstairs and copy the documents he’d been angling to get his hands on for months.
After he got what he came for, he’d scram out of there before the spiders knew he’d disturbed their sticky webs.
It should have been routine.
It wasn’t.
He never expected to meet up with a sexy redhead who had a come-hither look about her that steamed up her glasses and made him hard. At first, he wasn’t bothered by her intrusion. If anything, he was turned-on by her unexpected appearance. In his line of business he spent many lonely nights camped out in the wet and the cold, doing surveillance. Strip-searching her was an entirely pleasant experience and one he’d enjoy doing again.
He doubted he’d ever have the chance.
Things got sticky when she came on to him like gangbusters. She’d given him no choice but to have sex with her or blow his cover.
The question was, how was he going to explain his indiscretion to his boss?
“Did you get the docs from Briggs’s office?” Jordan asked him, her fingers tapping on the phone at the other end. Patience was not her virtue. Never had been, though she knew how to hold ’em when the target was in sight but not close enough for a sure kill.
This was not one of those times.
She wanted answers. Now.
Steve had stopped at the drive-through for coffee and then pulled into a dark alley and parked his old Buick behind a large trash Dumpster. For several long minutes, he studied the copies he’d made with a pen flashlight before dialing her on his cell. Special Agent in Charge Jordan Parks played hardball with her agents the same way other women picked out shoes: she liked the ones that dazzled her eye.
Still, she was tough and ran her operations lean and mean. She got the job done or she never would have lasted in this business. He admired her for that, but he wouldn’t let her tell him how to run his mission. As long as he came through with the intel, he knew she’d let him play ball his way.
Except that tonight he’d scored in one way and fouled out in another.
“Well, Steven, I’m waiting,” she purred. Or was it more of a growl? “Did you get the documents?”
“Not exactly—”
“Exactly what do you mean?”
“I had them in my hand, when she showed up.”
“Who?”
“This redhead. She works there and caught me copying the docs.”
“Night crew?”
“You could say that,” Steve said evasively. He wasn’t sure who she was, but he’d sure as hell find out.
“You’re losing your touch, old boy.” He heard her smirk. “What happened? Did she suck you up with her vacuum cleaner?”
She emphasized suck. Steve said nothing. He was used to her bad jokes.
“No. She’s funny and very pretty—”
She cut him off. “Did you get rid of her?”
“I...well, you see...” He stalled, remembering how surprised he was to find black lace covering her bra when the buttons popped off her shirt. His hands ached to unhook her bra and cup her big breasts, but he was a man in a hurry. He’d frisked her to make sure she wasn’t private security packing heat. “I made love to her.”
“I imagine she couldn’t resist your charm,” she snarled.
“It