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While I was lying here unable to sleep, I tried to distract myself by sending my dad an email about a person Vincent mentioned who keeps sending him messages. After I fired off the email, I went right back to thinking about him, though.
I even dreamed about him, hence the waking up panting and aching for him to touch me for real. Obviously, something about the couple of new experiences I had has unlocked a more sexual part of me.I’m willing to bet it’s the dancing with him. I really need to stop doing that.
While I managed to ignore it last night, the pulsing between my legs is so intense that I know I won’t get anything done today if I don’t just get this over with. Because while I was trying to fall asleep last night, I was pretty sure I heard a moan from his room. And in my dreams, it suddenly occurred to me what he might’ve been doing and why he might’ve been doing it.
Now that I’m awake again, it’s like I can still hear the echoes of his voice from my dream, but I also still have the memories of that damn moan teasing me. Before I can even think about stopping myself, my hand is under my waistband and sliding into the slick heat at the apex of my thighs.
A moan of my own slips out of me, and I freeze for a second, hoping against all hope that he didn’t hear it. But then I realize it would serve him right if he did. It was hearing that same sound from his room and realizing that I probably caused it that made me need to do this so badly, and if he hears me now, so be it.
My clit is pulsating like a fucking homing beacon, and as soon as I press down on it, a needy whimper escapes me. It feels so good, and even though no one else has ever touched me there, I somehow know it would’ve felt so much better if it was his finger instead of mine.
Closing my eyes, I think back to last night and my dream, my finger drawing circles around my clit as I do. I’m already tensing, my toes curling as I shove my pajama pants down with my free hand and start running my fingers along the sensitive skin at the insides of my thighs.
I woke up so wet that my panties are soaked, and I can feel heat radiating from the core of my being. Part of me screams that I should be doing this while thinking about pretty much anyone other than him, but I can’t stop my brain from going there.
From imagining what he looks like when he comes and wondering if he was thinking about me when he did last night. From picturing what he might look like naked with those oceanic eyes all clouded over with lust as he sinks into me. From imagining that it’s his cock instead of my fingers pressing into me right now.
And as I think about all of that, I come harder than I ever have, his name on my lips as I shake in the aftermath of the orgasm that tops all the others I’ve had. Almost immediately when I start catching my breath, I feel guilty about what I’ve just done, but there’s no time for that right now.
Putting it all behind me for now, I get out of bed and race through a shower before heading down to the security office. When I walk in, Dad isn’t there, but Anderson, one of his guys, comes up to me with a manila folder in his hand.
“Jonathan, Camille, Max, Valerie, and your mom wanted to go do some exploring in the old town,” he says. “Your dad went with them, but he said to tell you that all the information you need is in here. You have a meeting with Maxim and Vincent about it at ten.”
He glances down at his watch. “You’ve only got an hour and a half to look it all over before you need to brief them, so you better get to it.” Giving me a tight nod, he hands over the envelope and leaves.
After getting myself a cup of coffee from the pot he must have put on, I settle in at the desk I share with my dad and look over the information he compiled.
Although I told Vincent when we got back to the hotel last night that we’d look into it, I also assured him that I didn’t think it was anything to be super worried about, but now I’m not so sure. Chewing on my lip, I meticulously study the documents he’s printed out, and by the time I think I have a handle on it all, it’s time for my meeting.
Scrambling to make it to the conference room on time, I grab the folder and take it with me. The brothers both look surprised when I walk in instead of my dad, but at least Maxim’s surprise is followed by a smile.
“Hey, Olivia,” he says with a wave. “I thought Mike wanted to see us.”
“I’m representing him and the security team today,” I tell them as I sit down and put the folder down on the polished table in front of me. “Apparently, your parents, mine, and Max and Valerie have gone exploring.”
Understanding dawns on his features, and his smile softens. “I’m glad they’re getting out. They’ve all been working too hard. What’s up? Your dad doesn’t usually set last-minute meetings like this.”
“No, he doesn’t, but something’s come up, and he wanted me to discuss it with you even if he couldn’t be here himself. According to his note, he wanted me to handle it anyway.”
Vincent’s sitting back in his chair, his feet kicked up on the table and his arms and ankles crossed. Blue eyes blazing, he smirks at me. “You must think you’re a big shot now with your dad giving you more responsibility and all.”
I roll my eyes at him before pointing out the obvious. “They’re doing the exact same thing with you. In my case, they’re just doing it because I’m actually, legitimately good at my job, and it’s not just about my dad wanting to keep me out of trouble.”
His shoulders and jawline turn to stone. “Don’t talk shit about things you don’t know anything about, princess.”
“Children, children.” Maxim laughs, putting his hands up and giving his head a firm shake. “Let’s drop the fighting for today. We’ve all got work to do, and then I’ve got a fiancée to get back to.”
Forcing myself to calm down instead of getting riled up by Vincent’s comment, I turn my focus back to the job at hand. “What I need to discuss with both of you concerns some unusually hostile activity we’ve picked up on toward the band on social media. As Full Moon’s manager, my father asked me to bring it to your attention and to his”—I jerk my head at the asshole—“because he runs their accounts.”
“Hostile activity?” Maxim glances at his brother. “Did you tell her about the messages?”
“He did,” I respond even though I know he wasn’t talking to me. Shuffling through the papers in the folder, I take out the printouts containing some of the activity the team flagged. “We’ve been tracking these interactions for quite some time, but we’ve never investigated because it seemed like it was just someone who was trolling the band.”
“It doesn’t look like that anymore?” Maxim asks, brow furrowed in concern. “Why not? What changed?”
“The messages are being sent from the same person, or at least a person hiding behind all the same devices as the troll.”
Vincent’s feet land on the floor with a loud thud, and he leans forward. “You’re kidding, right? This is what the big security meeting is all about? Some idiot talking smack about the band online and messaging me like I’m his friend? Since I’ve rarely even replied to him, he’s clearly delusional. Just ignore it, and he’ll go away.”
