Page 22

22

Hex

Mong is super helpful. He tells us all the strange things he’s noticed about the rich people he serves every evening. Take Laurel, for example, who’s the CEO of one of Europe and Africa’s biggest electricity suppliers. He doesn’t like red wine, and he also goes home with one of three female servers every night.

“We’ll talk more once we are back,” Aran says, urging me toward the door.

It’s time to meet up with Eleanor and he’s gotten a little antsy. It’s normal—he might appear calm most of the time, but that’s only because of the preparations he usually undertakes beforehand. As this development happened only last night and he wasn’t part of it, there wasn’t much he could do, hence his foul-ish mood.

But well, I still love him, and squee , we are totally a thing now.

We arrive at the taco restaurant just before one p.m. If it was up to me, we’d be ten minutes later since I don’t like to wait, but Aran insisted he needed to scout the area and make sure this wasn’t a trap.

Surprise, surprise, there was no one suspicious. He wasn’t a fan when I pointed out that I told him so, but I also got to see his trademark eye roll, so I call it a win.

“See, waking up Mong was a good idea,” I say, slurping on the orange slushie I got from the taco place. After I gave the staff Eleanor’s name, they took us to a semi-secluded, but cozy corner where she’d booked us a table. “We now know that half the VIPs like to roll in bed with the staff.”

Aran slides a hand through his hair, then reties his manbun. A few locks escape him and hang over his cheeks, giving him a messier look that reminds me of those bad boy protagonists you often see in anime. It’s really sexy.

“We do, but whether we can take advantage of that information is a different matter altogether.”

He’s been scheming in his head since the morning. Or it might have started last night, even. It’s just how he is, but it also means that he’s quieter than usual, which makes me prone to get bored. I’d mess with him—especially now that I am allowed to touch him—but I don’t want to distract him too much.

I peek at the time on my phone and huff out in slight irritation. It’s already one twenty, so where is Eleanor? She said she’d be here at one, and I know for a fact she is free since I cloned her phone. She hasn’t used it since we spoke last night, after checking her emails and blocking out her timetable for lunch, but, I mean, if she’s busy putting together my contract to work for Mrs. Lynx, it makes sense, right?

I don’t have access to her laptop, so, obviously, I can’t be one hundred percent sure it’s that she’s been busy with, but logically, the chances are quite high. And if not, then I bet she’s organizing another party, because from what Mong told us, last night wasn’t the first time the Lynxes have thrown one.

After a further ten minutes pass and there is no sign of Eleanor, concern begins to worm its way through me. She was super nice, and she was genuinely happy to hang out with me. I can’t explain how I know it, but this is something that you just feel. So, as I watch the restaurant’s head chef line up corn shells and fill them with delicious-smelling ground beef right from the sizzling grill, my stomach sinks, and not because I’m hungry.

I just can’t see why she would stand me up like this. If she couldn’t make it, surely she’d let me know somehow—it’s not that hard to call the restaurant and cancel the reservation or leave a note for me.

“Aran. Something’s off. Eleanor should’ve been here half an hour ago.”

“Are you sure you got the place and time right?” my dream man and future husband says flatly, still very much focused on whatever evil plan he’s putting together in his head.

Now, it is true that I have a track record of getting things wrong, like that time when we were supposed to meet up at the Hanzo Aquarium, but instead I went to the Hanko Atrium in central Nagoya. It’s the same problem I have with faces and names—things like these just don’t stick in my brain.

But this is important and the success of our mission could well depend on it. So I took foolproof precautions.

I unlock my phone and load the notes app, shoving the device in Aran’s face. “I didn’t get it wrong. Look. It says right here—tomorrow, one p.m, taco restaurant.”

Aran glimpses at my phone. Just as I think he might argue with me, he nods. “Maybe something urgent came up, and she didn’t have time to cancel the booking?” he muses, patting me on the head. It stops the stress from further spreading through me. “I wouldn’t worry about it just yet.”

He’s probably right. Mrs. Lynx hasn’t called to invite me for dinner yet either, and with how excited she seemed to have my company so far, I find that a little strange too, which means that Aran’s onto something. Maybe the Lynxes had some business stuff to take care of and they needed Eleanor’s help.

Yep, that’s gotta be it.

“I guess I should put us back on the roster for today, then,” I inform Aran and make the necessary arrangement. I’ve been tweaking our schedules as I see fit, but we do have to show up to work from time to time or someone might notice. “At least until Mrs. Lynx calls and invites me to hang out.”

“Now that you know the secondary network’s name, maybe you can try to access that from the control room?” Aran offers, finishing his iced tea. He waves a server over and pays while I devour my slushie and get a nasty case of brain freeze.

“I could try, but I’d need some extra tools to even attempt hacking into it. Unless we can get the room empty so I can set up shop, I’ll be busted the moment I attempt to plug anything into one of the computers. Not to mention, I’d need my custom VPN and the masking software so they can’t track my MAC and IP.” Yeah, the more I consider it, the more it sounds like a sure way for us to be caught snooping. None of the things I need to do are particularly difficult, but nine out of ten times, hacking requires some degree of brute-forcing, which is slow and time-consuming. “And besides, I told you the password and keys change like every hour. Getting around that or figuring out the algorithms and protocols takes a lot more than a couple of minutes… Don’t trust that shit movies show you—they have no idea how real hacking works.”

We vacate our table and head back to the cabin. Aran’s gaze is distant and unfocused the entire way, as if he is running scenarios at the speed of light in his head so he can figure out a solution to our problem.

“Look, this is not me saying it’s impossible. No matter how fancy their security systems are, I can get in. It just takes a few hours at the very least, and I doubt we’re going to have more than a few minutes alone with the computers in the control room. It’s way too risky.”

Aran finally looks at me as he scans his ID at our door. “Half of what you said went over my head, but you are the expert. We’ll do things your way.”

Grinning, I drag my fingers along the length of his arm. Did he just compliment me and put me in charge? OMG, I wanna climb him like right now.

“Rawr. I love being in charge.” I push into him as soon as we are in the cabin’s corridor, causing him to stumble. His shoulder comes into contact with the wall, and I plaster myself against his side, looking up at the same time he glances down.

His eyes darken as he reaches out and strokes my cheek. “I know that you do,” he whispers, leaning in and ghosting his lips across my forehead.

I could die now and I’d die happy. Not that I want to die—I have way too much to live for, especially when Aran is finally almost mine. But this is bliss, mission accomplished. Leo and Matt will be so proud of me when they hear about it.

Tilting my head back so his lips can meet mine, I close my eyes and enjoy his proximity. His kiss is soft, tentative. Almost unsure. I don’t know why he’s still hesitating—I thought we got past that part—but I won’t push him either. I’ve waited years for this already, so if he wants to take things slowly, we’ll do just that.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’ll ignore my own needs. I buzz every time he’s around me and unless I recharge by properly kissing him or touching him every other hour or so, I think I might break. Teasing and foreplay just don’t cut it anymore.

Inching in, I prop one leg between his. My hardening erection brushes against his thigh, unleashing pleasant sparks across my skin. It’s like electricity sleeps dormant under it, stirring to life every time our bodies come into contact.

“Tien,” Aran moans, his tongue tangling with mine as the kiss turns from casual to deep. “We don’t have time for this. The shift starts in fifteen minutes.”

“I’d argue that’s enough for some quick stress-relief.” To illustrate my point, I press down on his tense shoulders.

“I shouldn’t. This is…”

Again with the ‘I shouldn’t-s’. Doesn’t he get tired of pointlessly trying to resist me? “This is what?”

“This is not like me. Once should’ve been enough…”

Ah, did he really think that would work? That a taste of me will satisfy him and he’ll be able to forget me and move on? He can be so na?ve sometimes. If anything, that first kiss opened the floodgates and our little jerk-off session last time sealed the deal. I am positively irresistible and now that he’s gotten a taste of what’s always belonged to him, there is no way he can just walk away.

I was made for him and there is no changing that, no matter how hard his brain tries to cling to a promise that’s long been fulfilled.

“Nuh-uh, baby. You lost the moment I walked into your life.”

His lips arch up in a smile I can feel against my skin. “I’m too old for you, Tien. Someone your age… with your energy and mind would be a better fit.”

“Nope. Don’t even try to scare me off with that age-gap shit. Besides”—I nibble along the curve of his jaw as I pause our kiss—“I’ve always been into older men and might have even had a Daddy phase in my porn preferences.”

That gives him pause, causing him to push me away slightly. “No… Just no.” His entire face scrunches up, discomfort oozing off him. He doesn’t look outraged though, more like he’s in the middle of considering it but not quite sure what to think about it or whether it’s okay to be into it.

“I think it’s kinda hot. But just in the bedroom.” I lift my eyebrows and wiggle them. “And only if you are into it and agree to give it a try.” Shrugging my shoulders when he just scowls at me, I add, “I mean, you already kind of spank me sometimes. And you manhandle me, and you can be kind of bossy and caring at the same time, too. It gives a man certain ideas, you know.”

Aran’s eyes narrow and his mouth curls up, half-smiling and half like he wants to groan. I think I’ve overwhelmed his vanilla, rules-abiding brain, so it might be best to leave kink-exploration for when we get naked and personal in the bedroom. Like tonight, because I have every intention of seducing him and enjoying a repeat of yesterday.

I open my mouth to update him on my plan, but he shuts me up with his index finger. “We need to talk to these servers,” he says as I flick my tongue out and lick his digit. I expect a quick scolding for my troubles, but instead, he rubs his finger from one end of my top lip to the other fondly all the while his gaze follows the movement. It’s kind of possessive and like he’s fighting off the need to devour my mouth.

Yes, please, don’t hold back, I need more of this.

The next thing I do is to rock my hips as I chase extra friction. I only intended to kiss him as a way to recharge, but he’s just soo unintentionally sexy that I kind of got horny. Blame it on my years of celibacy as I waited for him to get to his senses, but since we kissed, even the littlest of things can get my iron pole up in record time.

Humming in response to what he just said, I adjust my angle and rub harder against him. His erection pokes my thigh, hot and rock-hard.

For a few seconds, he allows it. A hoarse, quiet sound leaves his lips. If I wasn’t as tuned to his body as I currently am, I would’ve missed it, especially as his finger freezes in the middle of my mouth and his brows slant down, intensifying the want in his mesmerizing brown eyes.

I grin so hard my face hurts. Hell yes, he’s just as turned on as I am. And I made him that way.

“I think we should have sex,” I say, smiling playfully at him.

The door to our right creaks. “Oh, shit. Sorry, did I interrupt you?” Mong says, part winking, part giggling. “That was very direct, Hex, but in a good way. I think.” He gives me the thumbs up. “I’d rank it eight out of ten.”

Aran sighs and gently extricates me from him. His fingers linger on my arms like they can’t help it, which makes my dick very confused about whether to stay hard or calm down.

“Did you need something? Hex and I will be heading out soon,” Aran says sternly while discreetly adjusting himself.

Mong’s hair is a little damp, and he is wearing a T-shirt of Aran’s. It is the one that we gave him since he doesn’t have any of his clothes here yet, but despite that, a tinge of jealousy bubbles up in me. I want to be the only one allowed to wear Aran’s clothes. Period. An emergency stop by Mong’s cabin is thus required, or I might end up attacking him in his sleep so I can take back what belongs to my man and me.

Nodding, the addition to our conspiracy-hunting team crosses his arms. “I remembered something else. The girls I told you about. The ones who go with the VIPs once the service concludes. There is a backroom, behind the bar and kitchen. It’s where we keep the spare uniforms and the costumes for the themed nights. I think it’s where they wait until the rest of the staff leaves. So, if you let me go with Hex you next time he accompanies the Lynxes, I could maybe sneak him in back there?”

Three, two, one .

“No,” Aran declares in a tone that leaves no space for arguing. “This is too dangerous for a civilian to get involved. It would be safest for you to stay out of sight until this is over.” I am pretty sure he also abhors the idea of me serving as bait, but we have to uphold our image of professional secret agents for now.

“Okay, but… don’t you two work as security?” Mong challenges, pointing a finger at Aran. “You can’t exactly be in two places at once.”

“Hex can make it so the rosters don’t clash,” he argues back proudly, making my soul soar.

Mong looks like he wants to push back, but after a couple of seconds of deliberation, he seems to give up. “I guess. But it’s still riskier than letting me help. Besides…”

His hesitation as he averts his eyes and chews on his bottom lip makes me bristle. “ Besides ?”

“It might be nothing, but there was this girl… I met her the first day, and she reminded me a lot of my sister. We got kind of close, fast. She did room service for the VIPs, after dinner finished. Shitty hours, but double the pay. Anyway. I didn’t see her in the morning, before you kidnapped me, and we’d agreed to play poker with some of the other members of staff.”

My blood freezes, a sinking feeling lodging in my stomach like lead. “She didn’t show up?”

“It’s probably nothing, like I said. Night shifts really mess up with your body, so I bet she just went to her quarters and crashed from exhaustion.”

That makes sense, but for some reason the gnawing feeling doesn’t leave me. After the strange way Eleanor stood me up, hearing a similar thing happen to Mong strikes me as odd and raises alarm bells in my head.

“Eleanor, the woman we were meeting didn’t show up either,” I blurt out, causing Aran’s frown to deepen.

I know that he doesn’t fully trust Mong yet, but he can also be paranoid. Besides, sometimes the best way to get something out of a person is by giving them something in return first.

“Eleanor?” Mong echoes back, tapping his fingers against the lounge door’s frame. “Average height, wavy black hair and likes to wear red heels?”

I clap my hands. “Yes, that’s her! How do you know her? She’s Mrs. Lynx’s assistant, and we were supposed to have lunch today, but she didn’t show up. Left no note or anything.”

“Katy, that girl from room service I mentioned. I think they were hooking up… She was super excited to attend the party Eleanor was throwing… Did you see her there last night?”

Both Aran’s and Mong’s attention narrow to me. “Uh, I’m shit at remembering people, but describe to me how she looks like…”

Mong does, and I rack my brain to replay the faces I saw and the people I spoke to at the party. No one with Katy’s description is among them, but then he mentions that his friend carries her mandala print purse everywhere.

That’s when I remember her, the redhead with a big smile that Eleanor wouldn’t stop talking about once she got drunk. She went on and on about how excited she was that Mrs. Lynx had taken a special liking to her friend and that she’d been invited to the afterparty, which Eleanor also had to attend.