Page 65 of Command and Control: GHOST Operative

I walk toward her, loving the way she watches me andthe creep of pink that tints her skin when I come close. I reach out to snag the knit of her shirt. "This looks familiar."

She gives me a little smile. "It should. It's yours."

I move closer, bringing the front of my body to the front of hers as I reach around to fill my palms with her ass, dragging her against me. "All of this is mine, Jules, remember?"

Julieanne leans forward, bringing her sweet softness against me. "I remember."

I'm so fucking glad all her shit finally got here. I love her smelling like me, but I love my home smelling like her more. I want the scent of her shampoo and body wash and perfume to permeate my fucking house.

My fucking life.

I drop my forehead to hers, gritting my teeth. "We have to go. Stop trying to tempt me to strip you down and fuck you right here on the floor."

Julieanne loops her arms around my neck, pushing up on her toes in a way that rubs her tits against my chest. "You can always do that when we get back."

"Good point." I reach behind my head and grab one of her hands, lacing my fingers between hers before dragging her down the hall. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.

I pause at the coat closet, taking just enough time to wrap her in a winter coat before loading her into my SUV and backing out. There's still a decent amount of her stuff in my garage, and I'm not quite sure what I'm gonna do with it. My house is already furnished, but if she wants to move some of her items in, I can find a place for them.

Hell, if she wanted to redecorate the whole thing, I’dgive her my credit card and free reign. Maybe I'll tell her that when we get home. After I fuck her.

I've gone years only needing to scratch the occasional itch, looking for company only when I had to. But with her, I’m insatiable. I can't get enough. If I could live with my cock in her cunt, I would.

No wonder my team thinks I’ve fucking lost it.

It hasn't snowed for a couple of days, so the roads are relatively decent as we drive along the outskirts of Fairbanks. It's late enough in the morning that the garage is quiet when I pull in. I have a roster of hackers and IT investigators who rotate every eight hours, and we’re in the middle of the first shift, so everyone is already well into their day.

Once we’re inside, I lead Julieanne to the break room.

“Oh wow.” Her eyes go around the space. “This is really nice.”

“I ask a lot of my employees. The least I can do is give them a decent place to make their coffee.” I go to one of the machines lined across the counter and choose my favorite of the pods, loading it in and sliding a paper cup into place as it starts to run. Coffee isn’t all I keep available in the break room, but I don’t plan on her needing to know about the rest. Julieanne being here is a one-time thing.

Two-time thing.

As great as she would be at it, she can’t work for GHOST. I won’t be able to handle having her this close to the danger employment here can bring. I won’t survive it.

Once Julieanne's coffee is brewed, I set the machine to make another cup before adding the sweetened creamer I know she likes to her cup, pressing on a lid, and sliding it into a cardboard sleeve. By the time I’m passing hers off,mine is done and I grab it from the machine, skipping the lid and sleeve. Pressing my palm to her back, I direct her toward the door. "Let's go see just how magical you are, Angel Face."

I lead her into the den—the room where my IT team is located—blinking a few times as we enter. It always takes my eyes a second to adjust to the dimmer light, but I can't have my employees dealing with headaches and eyestrain. Julieanne keeps her chin up, not looking around at all as we walk straight in and go down to the central desk where Elias is working. He glances up as we approach, gaze drifting to Julieanne before coming back to me.

"Since you're struggling so much, I decided to let Julieanne see what she can find."

Elias's brows lift, but he doesn't ask any questions. He stands, stepping out of his chair before turning it Julieanne's way. "Be my guest."

I tip my head toward the door we just came through. "Go take a break." He's been working long hours these past few days, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, and is probably frustrated and exhausted. "Use the couch in my office if you need it."

He leaves, and when I look down at where Julieanne now sits in his chair, I find her studying me. The corners of her mouth barely tip up, but then her gaze shifts to the people around us and the hint of her smile flattens out.

I grab a spare chair and haul it right next to hers, angling it close. Then I sit down—leg touching hers—and settle in, ready to watch her work. "My team was able to find the trail of who they believe is responsible for sending those men to your condo, but the source no longer exists."

Julieanne's dark brows pinch together. "You mean there's no more trail to follow?"

I shake my head. "I mean it’s gone. There's no trace they ever existed. It disappeared."

Once upon a time, everything had a trail. The breadcrumbs were obvious and easy to follow. But technology has gotten more sophisticated. Now we’re dealing with a new generation of assholes who’ve been immersed in this shit since they were born instead of people who spent half their lifetime without it. It's created a different breed of hackers, and their abilities and skills get better every fucking day. At this point, if I could hire a bunch of sixteen-year-olds, I would. Those little fuckers eat, breathe, and shit the stuff.

Julieanne continues frowning at me. "Are you sure? There's always something. Sometimes it’s just rerouted to hide the source."

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