Page 34 of How to Hack a Hellhound
“The people in charge are smart. They’re not using social media, they’re not hanging out at the club excessively, and they’ve made sure they’re not traceable to the guys who do the dirty work,” I answered. “James knew very little. He had a contact number, but it was disconnected after he disappeared. Beyond that, he simply handed people off and had only a vague description of who he was handing them off to. They did most things by call or through untraceable chats.”
Quinton blew a breath out. “It’s Friday night,” he said.
“Yes,” I answered. It was, but I was unsure why that was important.
He rolled his eyes at me. “Aiden’s at home. Is someone here? Aside from us?”
“Yes,” I answered, still perplexed. Was he looking for an intimate moment? It didn’t seem like a sexy time, but why else would he wonder who was around and tell me Aiden was home? I stared at him, and he huffed and shook his head at me.
“We’re going to the club, Sexy Stalker,” he insisted.
Oh. Definitely not a sexy moment, then. I tried not to be disappointed. “I’m not sure…”
“Listen up, Mister. You’ll be there to protect me, and you’re all”—he waved his hand at me—“supernatural and shit, so it’ll be fine. You can’t keep me caged up here, you know. I’m, like, a free spirit and shit.” He crossed his arms and gave me a dirty look.
“I’m not sure who’s working at the club tonight,” I finished. “There may or may not be anyone on our list, but I should be able to access CCTV camera feeds from outside the club and scan faces for who went in tonight.”
Quinton breathed out a sigh. My little hellcat was so cute. He thought I wouldn’t let him out to play. Everyone knew youcouldn’t keep cats contained, and I certainly wouldn’t try to do that to Quinton.
He looked thoughtful, then shook his head. “Nah. We’re just gonna go. You’ll protect me, maybe you’ll sniff out some evil, and we can drop some hints to the wrong people about being back next weekend. Maybe then we’ll get some of the wrong kind of attention when we do go back.”
I tilted my head. It wasn’t a bad idea, but Quintonwasstill a human, even if he was a hellcat at heart. I didn’t like the idea of putting him in danger by letting people know we’d be back. I didn’t want to face an ambush.
“I am not completely invulnerable,” I admitted. “I have no problem going tonight, but I’m not sure setting you up as bait for next weekend is a good idea.”
“You can get someone else to come along as back up next weekend. Besides, if someone took me, you’d find me,” he insisted.
“Of course I would, but you’re mortal. They could harm you before I did. It would take time,” I answered.
“I have faith in you,” he said, and I was touched at how sincere he was.
Still… “How would you feel about a tracker under your skin in your shoulder? Maybe the back of your neck?” I asked.
Quinton laughed and leaned in to kiss me. I wasn’t sure what was funny, but I opened my mouth to him, letting his tongue explore. I leaned toward him and resisted the urge to grab him by clutching my chair tightly.
It might have made a little creaking sound. Or perhaps that was a crack. Oops.
Quinton leaned back. “It’s early to head to the club, so we’ve got a little bit of time to kill,” he said.
I searched his eyes. I wouldn’t rush him, and I didn’t want him doing anything he was uncomfortable with.
He lifted a hand up and cupped my cheek. “Wanna make out?” he asked. He was smiling sexily at me, but he also looked a little unsure.
“I would absolutely love to make out with you,” I answered honestly. I would love anything Quinton gave me.
“Well, that computer chair isn’t really conducive to a good make-out sesh, even if all the clothes stay on,” he joked.
I sensed that he was also subtly laying boundaries down, and I was all too happy to comply. I didn’t move, letting him take the lead. He finally huffed at me and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the chair and pushing me over to the couch against the far wall of my office.
He pushed me down and climbed onto my lap. I was already hard from kissing him, and he smelled so damn good. I gripped the edge of the couch, letting him set the pace.
He looked at me, putting both hands on my face. “Look at you, such a gentleman, my sexy stalker. Meanwhile, your eyes are on fire for me, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” I rumbled. My hellhound was scratching to get out, wanting to taste, to touch, to roll in the sweetness and bitterness of Quinton.
“Touch me, Sexy Stalker. Make out with me. Please.”
It was the “please” that undid me. I grabbed Quinton and pulled him into a kiss. He leaned into me, one hand running through my hair, kissing me back just as fiercely. We licked at each other, and Quinton bit down gently on my lower lip, causing me to growl and pull him down more firmly onto my lap.
