Page 61 of Whistleblower

I let out a throaty laugh and feel the cold air seep into my lungs. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No. But I have to know… Why? What could you possibly hate about a donut?”

This is the first personal detail I’ll ever share with Eden, definitely not the last, but the first is always the hardest. I could just lie as an out, but all I see is her big, brown, doe-eyes and her smile that looks like kindness and hope. So, I do something I’ve never done with a woman.

I share something personal.

“My mom didn’t feed me much as a kid. She was too tired from all the pill-popping to grocery shop or cook. We lived in a small town, right down the road from a breakfast diner and the owner knew what a wreck my mom was. He let me eat as much as I wanted, for free. From age seven to thirteen, before I learned to cook, I ate breakfast diner food, and leftover baked goods for every single fucking meal. All these years later, I’m still burnt out on it.”

Eden closes the gap between us and touches her cool lips to mine. How did she know the reward I wanted for my honest admission was her lips on mine?

“Spaghetti and meatballs for breakfast then,” she whispers.

TWENTY-TWO

EDEN

Linc chuckles at me when we enter the elevator of my residence building that basically sling-shots passengers up forty-some floors. He watches me take a deep breath and press one fist against my belly while using my other hand to clutch the railing for dear life. He, on the other hand, is completely at ease, wearing a teasing smirk on his beautiful, slightly stubbled face.

“You have to do that every time?” he asks between small, breathy laughs.

Scowling at him, I nod.

After collecting my hands in just one of his, he raises them above my head and traces my stomach with his other fingers. My arousal is urgent and needy, and I can literally feel the apex of my thighs begin to swell. His grumbly low voice doesn’t help the matter. If he wasn’t pinning my hands in place, I’d let them explore his body.

“Take a deep breath,” Linc instructs. I instinctually obey because I’m already breathless from his touch and actually do need air. “Most people combat a fear of heights with pressure. Holding your stomach, clenching the rail… It’s normal. But what you need is to give your breath room. Expand your diaphragm, breathe deeply, and the nerves will calm.”

Maybe his advice works, maybe I’m distracted, but as I stare at Linc’s lips the jitters disappear, replaced by a new tingling sensation. He’s ducking down, hovering over me with my hands still pinned above my head. All I’d have to do is lean forward just a little bit to kiss him. Seeing the ravenous look in my eyes, Linc trails his hand below my belly button. He powerfully cups my sex over my pants with his palm, making me grunt in response.

“Eden, I really like that I can touch you whenever I want now because I’ve been suppressing the urge for weeks. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” He grinds the heel of his palm against my sex and something between a moan and whimper escapes my lips as my head knocks against the elevator wall. How long is this ride? I hope it never ends. Send me to space, as long as Linc can come with me. There’s something extra exciting about the way I’m trapped underneath his grip. Whatever happens next… All I can do is let it happen.

I buck my hips, pressing myself deeper into his palm. “Please touch me.”

“I am,” he says with a soft laugh.

“You know what I mean.” I want his hands beneath my underwear. I want his fingers in me.

He whispers in my ear, “Needy girl, there are cameras in here.”

Are there? My eyes dart around the elevator walls, but I don’t see cameras. And actually…

“I don’t care—”

Ding! And just like that the spell is broken.

“You’d care later. You’re just all worked up right now,” he says. He kisses my forehead before pulling me through the elevator doors right as they open. “I have some work to do first. Which is yours?” he asks, looking left, then right down hallways that lead in opposite directions.

“Eighty-nine,” I reply, nodding toward the left. “Four-two-eight-nine.”

I’m still ticklish between my thighs but it’s clear Linc no longer has sex on his mind. It’s fascinating to see him like this. Sometimes I forget that Linc’s not just a killer, not just a brute—he’s got a skill set. He sees everything. His eyes scour the hallway as we cover the short distance, but he’s looking at things I never notice anymore, like the decorative hallway table topped with potted plants and classic books. He opens each of the books and to my great surprise the middle one is hollow. Inside, there’s a small copper key.

Linc looks at me and raises his eyebrow. “Eden—”

“That’s not mine,” I assure him.

“Good. It’s an incredibly stupid thing to do. Don’t ever hide your keys in a public area like this, and I better not find a key above your door frame. Don’t make yourself an easy target.”

Pursing my lips, I blink at him. “Save your lecture. I just said it’s not mine.” While our apartments have electronic locks, I believe there’s a manual key override. Likely, someone’s fob has been giving them trouble and they planted that little copper key in case of technical difficulties. “And there’s nothing above my door.” Not here anyway. Back home in California though, not only did I have a spare key above my entry door frame, but there was also a ceramic toad in my garden that contained the key to my patio door and my car. Whoops.

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