Come Home Again (The Donovans) (16 page)

Warm, slim fingers teased the elastic edge of his boxers. Just as she tugged on the elastic, a shrill ringing pierced the tense silence. His dick twitched in frustration.
Yeah, buddy, I hear you
. “Don’t answer that.”

Delilah’s hand stilled, and her gaze slid to her phone. “I
have
to answer that.”

“Nope. It won’t kill you if it goes to voicemail. But I might die if you don’t touch me.”

A shiver ran through her, and for a moment, Nate thought she’d ignore the call. He prayed she’d ignore the call. If she didn’t, he might just die from blue balls. But the shrill ringing continued, and with a groan, she released him and scooped the phone up off the table. “This is Delilah.”

She cursed, then eyes wide, turned to him. “Can you turn on your laptop? Michael’s been arrested.”

T
hree days after sexus interuptus, Nate tried to force his eyeballs to focus on the screen in front of him. He really did. Problem was, every time he tried to focus over the last day, his mind wondered to Delilah. Why the hell was he even attempting to work?
Because that’s what you’re here to do, not spend the entire day in bed with Delilah Donovan.

“Shit.” He dropped his head into his hands and tried to get his brain to get with the program. He rubbed his eyes.
Hey guys, remember the work at hand?

But still, the lines of code in front of him ran together. The syntax might as well have been one long string of Greek gibberish as far as he was concerned tonight. Problem was, he’d been this way for three damn days. Ever since she’d run out of Prohibition like her hair was on fire.

Three damn days, and his blood still hummed in his veins and his skin still felt like a live wire had stroked it. “Damn it.”

His phone beckoned to him like a beacon. Maybe if he just called her to see how her day was, he’d be able to concentrate. They’d only exchanged brief texts during the last few days, as she had her hands full with the douche bag. She’d been pretty pissed that night after getting the Michael Ross call.

No, dumbass, you just want to call her.
Hearing that husky voice would only set him up for a cold shower and a night of tossing and turning with wild, sex-crazed dreams.
Shit
. He hadn’t had one of those in nearly a decade. But a week and a half with her, and already he was a goner.

When he’d moved in with the Donovans, John Donovan had made it clear that there were some rules to be followed. First and foremost, Nate wasn’t to entertain any ideas about John’s stepdaughter. At the time, it hadn’t been a problem. Delilah had been all of fourteen, a kid. Never even entered Nate’s mind. Until the summer she turned sixteen and spent every day torturing him by running around the backyard pool in her bikini.

He’d loaded himself up on summer jobs and stayed the hell away from the pool just to make sure he didn’t have to see her growing curves in that barely-there bikini. But he’d never laid a hand on her. Not once. But the vision of her in that red bikini of hers had tormented him for years.

And first chance you got, you went and kissed her. Good luck sleeping tonight. Idiot.

Seven years later, and Delilah Donovan was still off limits and way out of his league. Someone like her would never pick someone like him for anything permanent. It didn’t matter if she wanted him. And she did want him. He'd still be that kid standing on the outside looking in on her and her perfect family.

But he’d take whatever time she gave him. So maybe forever was off the table with a woman like her, but maybe he could live the fantasy for a little while. He knew they had a time clock on this thing. Eventually, the secrecy would kill the both of them. Her job was on the line, and there was the small matter of the family he’d left behind.

If he let himself admit it, he’d have to say he wanted to see them. To show them that he’d turned out okay thanks to what they did for him. But stepping back into the whirlwind that was the Donovan family, he wasn't ready for yet, maybe not ever. He'd done everything he could to make up for leaving the way he had. Done everything he could to say he was sorry. Except actually opening his trap and putting words to purpose. But then again, how the hell did one say, “Hey, I'm sorry you guys took me in and treated me like family then I bailed and bolted the moment shit got real.”

Nate shook his head. He had real enemies to deal with and confront. Not ghosts from his past.

Nate forced his brain to focus on one line of code at a time. Forced himself to let the syntax translate into something his brain could understand. Once he had that, he savored the flavor of it like a fine wine. Every coder was like an artist. Or more like a chef. Once you'd tasted a masterpiece, you never forgot that chef’s signature. And the code base for Synth was one he had sampled before. They’d built a proprietary framework that all outsourced game developers had to use, and he was very familiar with it. But he’d never paid much attention to the framework code. He’d just followed the rules set forth. Which calls to make to which libraries. How to label and make his calls. How to handle the stored procedures for the database.

But like he’d told Chase, now that he was properly looking at the structure and the framework, there was something extremely familiar about it. The code was clean. At this level he expected some of that, but honestly, most developers had their own way of writing code. Little notes and hints they left for themselves along the way. Sometimes it was because they wanted to check on something later. Sometimes it was to help explain what they were trying to do to whoever looked at it after. Something. And to some degree there was a little of that, but code like this was rare.

It was technically superb but also allowed itself to be built upon. Nate had only ever seen something like it once before.

Back when he was another person. Back when he lived a shadow life, trolling the dark net and making friends and enemies.

Seven years ago, when he'd been on the other side of legal with his code, he'd gone up against a hacker trying to break into Queen’s Bank in Scotland. Nate had been approached by a client to see if he could gain access. The payday had been large enough to set him up for more than a minute if he could keep his nose clean. All he'd had to do was get in and get out by frog hopping his IP addresses through several countries.

But the night he'd tried to do the job, he'd been too late. Someone had already beaten him to it. They'd climbed over each other for a good couple of hours trying to hack decryption keys.

He'd lost out on the payday that night, but he and that other hacker had danced and understood each other once they'd tested each other's skills. Nate knew he'd recognize him if he saw the code again. And this had all the signatures. It wasn’t so much what was in the framework, but
how
it was in the framework. It was like giving two developers the same task. And giving them the same rules and resources. How each one got to the end result was still artistic license.

What the hell was this imprint doing in the framework of Synth Games’s code? Maybe Nate hadn't been the first hacker Chase had plucked out of the shadows. It was unlikely though.

So where had this code come from?

Taraby had said he’d practically built the code base from the ground up. And despite the hot air the guy blew, he was too flashy to be this good. Or was he nearly as good of a conman as Nate had once been?

Nate shook his head, unwilling to believe it. Taraby couldn't be responsible for the code. The code was elegant. Sophisticated. There was nothing elegant about that douche bag. So the question was, who'd written it, and why was this asshole passing it off as his own?

Now fully immersed in the code, Nate knew he had to make a call, whether to keep going or get to bed. If he kept digging through this, he'd likely be here until dawn.

He glanced at his phone again. Who was he kidding? Picking it up, he slid his fingers over the keys quickly.

I’m in desperate need of chocolate.

Less than ten seconds later, Delilah responded.

That’s funny, so am I. Know where I can find any?

A grin tugged at his mouth as his heart kicked into gear.

I know a place. It’s in mid-town. The lighting is low, but with chocolate they serve wine and naked men. ;)

Oh, yes, I’ve heard of this place! It’s called heaven, right?

Lol. I have no objections if you want to refer to me as a sex god.

Ha! Of course you don’t.

I know you’re working, but you must fortify yourself with wine and chocolate.

What about sex?

Who’s to say I don’t have something kinky planned for that chocolate and wine?

Nate couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so giddy. But Delilah had a way of bringing that out of him.

I like the way you think.

It’s late, can you get away from work? And by away, I mean my place.

He thought about it for a second, then sent another text.

I miss you

Silence. For two minutes, he stared at his phone, but there was no reply. Beads of sweat popped on his brow. Was that too much? Finally a text came in.

I miss you too. Can you give me an hour, or is that too late?

You could turn up at two in the morning, and it will wouldn’t be too late.

He returned to his apartment only minutes before Delilah arrived. He yanked off his tie on the way to the door. When he opened it, she grinned up at him.

“I have to say, Nate, there’s something sexy about a man taking off his tie.”

“You feel like helping me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” She reached for him, then halted. “Wait, I was told there’d be chocolate.”

He chuckled. “Oh, there is. But I’m sampling mine first.” Pulling her to him, he kissed her, days of craving adding an edge to the kiss.

In the silence of his apartment, all that could be heard was the clomping of shoes as they were kicked off and the groans and hushed moans of need. Impatient, Nate picked Delilah up so she straddled his waist and headed for his bedroom. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he longed for her to dig her hands into it, tugging like she did when she was on the brink of orgasm.

Quickly, clothes were jerked, pulled or thrown off, and with unfettered access to her lush breasts, Nate stared at his prize. He dusted a light kiss on one distended nipple. Delilah drew in a shuddering breath as she arched her back, allowing him more access, begging for him to take the stiff peaks into his mouth. Craving her rocked his equilibrium. Electricity hummed over his skin, making all his hairs stand up. Making him shake. Torching his flesh from the inside.

He started kissing up her neck, savoring the spicy floral scent of her. Reveling in every curve, every hidden secret. And she moaned as he licked the sensitive spot just above her clavicle.

“That is my favorite spot to kiss you,” he whispered, “It's such an unexpected surprise when your body opens up for me every time I kiss you here.” He did it again, and her thighs parted, causing him to smile.

She muttered something unintelligible while he continued to kiss her. All he could distinguish was the sound of his name on her lips over and over again. His brain had already been rendered useless.

With his hand, he skimmed the satiny flesh of her stomach, pausing to tease her belly button. Her hips bucked in silent invitation, and he drew his head back to gaze at her. “Are you trying to tell me something, Delilah?”

She rolled her hips again. “Nate, I need you.”

He exhaled slowly before returning to her soft lips. His tongue slid into her waiting mouth and he devoured her. His fingers skimmed just beneath the fabric of her thong, tracing lazy patterns into her skin. Finding her most sensitive spot, Delilah dragged her lips away from his and tossed her head back into the pillow.

Immediately he stilled. “Too much.”

She shook her head but whispered, “Yes.”

Ragged, harsh breaths tore out of him. His muscles bunched as he fought for control. “Hmm, sweetheart, that’s a very mixed message. Should I stop?”

Her wrists flew to his and held him in place. “Don't stop. I-I like it.”

A slow smile tugged at his lips. He drew a circle over her clit with his thumb, and she bit her bottom lip. Nate bent his head and nipped her lip, releasing it from her teeth. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I-I...want...”

He kissed her softly again while his hand delved lower, and Delilah groaned at the contact. With sure fingers, he brought her to the edge.

“Nate, please make love to me. I want you.”

He hesitated. He wouldn’t ever be able to let her go if they did this again. Not being with her had driven him half mad. “Delilah, you’re making me...so crazy.”

He continued to explore her body, driving her wild with craving. When he slid his fingers free and tugged down her underwear, she lifted her hips and helped him slide the fabric down her legs.

With his heart hammering and his lungs burning, Nate fumbled in his side drawer for a condom. He tore the foil and quickly rolled it on. When he settled between her legs, Delilah lifted her hips to meet his. Nate cursed as her hot, slick flesh came into contact with the head of his cock. He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of need. He rocked his hips, and inch by aching inch, slid into her slickness.

But Delilah was in no mood for a slow love making. She smoothed her hands down his back and over his ass. Her legs wrapped tighter around his hips, and she pushed him deeper into her, lifting to meet his thrust.

“Fuck, Delilah.”

“Harder, Nate. I can’t take the teasing.”

With every thrust of his hips, she moaned. With every slow, sliding retreat, she tugged on his hair. The fire started at the base of his spine. Oh, hell. He wasn't going without her.

She was so goddam tight. And with every moan he wrenched from her, he wanted to stay inside her even more.

Nate slid an arm under her back, forcing her to arch her back and raise her breasts to him like an offering. He latched onto her nipple and sucked gently.