Trickster (7 page)

Of course, it wasn’t all fun and
games. With the run-up to release weekend closing in on them, the Lone Star project
manager started holding QA meetings every morning to go over testing milestones.
Mark knew the meetings were tedious but necessary as new bugs were also popping
up on an almost daily basis, but it also meant long hours as they ironed out all
the various issues.

Delaney conducted his own weekly
meetings with the Engineering team every Friday, making sure that things were
on track for all the Trickster projects. Mark sat at the end of the conference
table with the other contractors, doing his best to look alert and nonsexual as
he watched his lover get status updates from the project managers.

It didn’t help that various body
parts was still tingling from being stripped and spread out on Delaney’s desk
not two hours ago. The shifter had developed a downright addiction to cocksucking
and loved to get Mark seated on his desk during lunch, trousers and underwear
off and legs spread on either side of Delaney’s chair as he kissed, licked and
sucked his way around Mark’s inner thighs and sac before worshipping his cock.
Mark had to smother his moans when he came, which added to the hotness of the
act, and loved feeling the shifter’s throat muscles milk every last drop out of
him.

Afterwards, Delaney would lick him
clean, ending with tender kisses on his balls, then drag him down to straddle
the shifter’s lap for a fast hand job before they both had to go back to work.
Mark had started to dream about sliding down directly onto Delaney’s cock
instead and riding him hard, squeezing his cock and muffling the other man’s
cries with his mouth.
Maybe after Lone
Star goes live. That’ll be one hell of a way to celebrate the release.

He smiled as the meeting broke up
and Delaney flashed him a smoky look before ducking out the door with the project
managers in tow.
I can’t get enough of
him. It’s insane. Wonderful, but insane.

The only fly in the ointment was
Caren. He’d called her and let her down as gently as possible, explaining that
he’d met someone and he didn’t want to string her along. Unfortunately for him,
she didn’t seem ready to let go. He was still getting daily texts from her, all
of them calm but firm requests that they meet face to face. WE NEED TO TALK
ABOUT THIS LIKE ADULTS, she’d said in her last text. YOU OWE ME THAT MUCH.

The truth of it was, he did feel
guilty about breaking up with her, even though technically it wasn’t his fault.
And it wasn’t like she was getting hysterical or threatening to boil a bunny in
his kitchen. Even during a split, she was the cool, collected executive she’d
always been.

The sticking point was running the
idea past Delaney. One of the things he’d learned over the last two weeks was
that shifters were decidedly territorial, and he didn’t know how Delaney would
handle the news that his ex-girlfriend wanted to see him. By the time the Lone
Star release day came around, the guilt had built to the point where he was getting
short-tempered with Delaney.

That afternoon they were at Mark’s
apartment. Delaney asked him where he kept his coffee cups.

“The cabinet.”

“Which one—”

“Just
look
, dammit!” Mark snapped.

The next thing he knew, he was
pushed gently onto a kitchen chair. Delaney grabbed another chair and straddled
it backwards, facing him.

“Okay, I know this is going to get
my man card pulled, but what’s wrong?” the shifter asked, brow creased. “You
keep biting my head off, and I can’t tell if I’ve done something or you’re just
stressed about the release. Talk to me, babe.”

Mark bit his lip. Reluctantly, he
explained the text messages and waited for the explosion. To his surprise,
Delaney shrugged. “I can’t blame her. She deserves the closure, even I can
admit that,” he said, his whisky-colored eyes catching the afternoon sunlight. “And
I got to admit, I do feel a little shitty about taking you from her.”

Relief surged through Mark at the
admission. “I was worried you’d be jealous.”

The shifter affected an innocent
look. “Me, jealous?”

“You. Remember what happened at
Kroger? With the bag boy?”

Delaney huffed. “That little shit
was checking out your ass.”

“That little shit was maybe
sixteen. And the way you loomed over him, he probably thinks he won’t see
seventeen.”

“He won’t if he keeps checking out
your ass.”

Mark had to laugh at that. “Seriously,
you’re okay with this? Because I don’t want you hunting down and scaring the
shit out of my ex-girlfriend,” he said. “Note the accent on the
ex
.”

Delaney made a rumbling noise deep
in his chest. “I’ll behave, babe. As long as you promise that you’ll come back
to me.”

“Right, like I’d ever leave you. We’re
mated, remember?”

“Hm.”

Mark frowned. “I don’t like the
sound of ‘hm.’”

Delaney bit his lip. “I just know
that none of this is what you expected,” he said. “I mean, did you ever see
yourself settling down with a man?”

“No. But let’s be honest, did you?”

“No. But I’m also a shifter, so I
knew it was a possibility. And then there’s the fact that you’re mated to
someone who isn’t human. That puts you in a certain amount of danger.”

 
“Okay, stop right there,” Mark cupped the
other man’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. “Yes, we may
be different species, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about that. You are the most
amazing person I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. You’re my
mate, and I’m glad you’re in my life.” He sighed. “As for danger, I could get
killed going to the store, or in the damn shower. Being scared and playing it
safe is no way to live life. If we run into problems because you’re a shifter,
we’ll deal with them together. But don’t you ever think for one moment that I’m
going to leave you because of it.”

Delaney’s entire face lit up. “You
mean that, don’t you?”

“Damn straight I do.”

“Good. Means I have an excuse for
doing this.” He stood up and nudged the chair out of the way, then knelt down
between Mark’s knees, urging them wider. Grabbing the zipper on his jeans, he
tugged it down and bent forward, mouth wet and open.

Mark closed his eyes and tilted his
head back, the better to relish his mate’s skilled lips and tongue. “For future
reference,” he murmured, “you never need an excuse for this.”

After his orgasm and a reciprocal blowjob
for Delaney, Mark texted Caren with an agreement to meet. Unsurprisingly he had
directions to her office two minutes later, with instructions on where to park
in the attached garage structure.
Of
course she’s working on the weekend.

Thinking about it, he texted back
an okay.
If I get this over with now, I
can still get a nap before I head into the office.

He went to tell Delaney and found
the shifter dressed to leave and standing at the front door, car keys in hand. “There
you are. Sorry, babe, but I need to go home and do some prep work before
tonight,” he said, pulling Mark into a kiss. “Plus I really need a nap.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “I do have
a bed here, you know.”

“Yeah, and if I stay here I’m going
to pull you into it, which means I won’t get any sleep.” Delaney rubbed his
nose against Mark’s. “I’ll see you at the office at ten tonight, okay?”

Another kiss and he was out the
door, whistling. Shrugging, Mark closed the door and turned to look for his own
shoes and car keys.
Never mind. I’ll tell
him about Caren tomorrow.

****

Caren’s office turned out to be in
one of the newly constructed buildings along the Dallas North Tollroad. He found
the address and pulled into the garage, noticing the rows of empty slots.
Well, it is Saturday. Not a lot of people
are going to be in the office today, right?

He pulled into a space near the
elevator, two spaces down from an SUV. As he got out, Caren walked out of the
elevator, smiling at him. “Right on time. I always did appreciate that about
you, sweetie.”

Mark had his mouth open to reply
when someone grabbed his upper right arm and something hard poked into his
ribcage. He glanced down to see a black barrel, then up at Red’s scowl.

Fear thudded through him. “Caren,
run!”

She folded her arms, smiling at
both of them. “Don’t be silly. I’m exactly where I want to be, sweetie.”

“What?”

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to
go this far, but you’ve been so tiresomely compliant about following the rules.”
She reached forward and chucked him lightly under the chin. “You’re such a good
boy, aren’t you? I bet you even roll over and pant for Smith on command.”

Mark felt his jaw drop, and closed
it. “Caren, what are you doing?”

Mascara’ed eyes opened wide
ingenuously. “Adding a trapdoor code to the Lone Star Credit Union’s online banking
system, sweetie. I thought I could sneak it in through your laptop, but you
didn’t bring home any of the right files.” She sighed, shaking her head. “And I
went to all that trouble, too. Dating you, having dinners with you, listening
to you babble on and on about that stupid Doctor Whoever show, getting you in
position to be hired at Trickster. I thought it was all going to be worth it in
the end. Just goes to show that even I can make mistakes.”

Anger began to seep in, displacing
the fear. “So, what? You’re holding me hostage or something?” Mark said. “Because
I can tell you right now, Trickster isn’t going to let you put any damn code
into Lone Star’s security system.”

She laughed, a bright sound that
echoed in the empty garage. “Oh, I’m not going to do it, sweetie. You are.”

Chapter Seven

Four hours later, Mark pulled into
the parking lot at Trickster, his stomach churning as sweat trickled down the
back of his neck. The tiny black blister riding on the bridge of his glasses
felt like it weighed a ton. “Just to make sure you’re not doing anything
naughty,” Caren had said as she attached the tiny spycam. “Like the song says,
I’ll be watching you.”

And then there was the flash drive Caren
had given him, which seemed to burn in his front jeans pocket. He wanted to
yank the damn thing out and throw it on the ground, smash it to bits.

But he couldn’t. Not while he could
still remember Caren holding up her phone. It had showed a picture of Delaney
asleep in his bed, pale against the burgundy sheets.

God, he prayed Delaney was just
asleep.

“My other employee is currently at
your boyfriend’s house,” she’d said. “Where Mr. Smith is currently out cold and
under guard. You’re going to be a good boy and insert my trapdoor code into
Lone Star’s security upgrades, then come back here once the release is finished
so that I can test it and make sure it works. If it does, then Mr. Smith will
wake up tomorrow with nothing more than a pounding headache. If it doesn’t, or
if you try to call the police, or let anyone at Trickster know what’s happening,
my employee will shoot Mr. Smith in the head. It’s really as simple as that.”

He’d been pushed into the SUV,
which belonged to Caren, handed a laptop, and run through the installation
procedure over and over again until she was satisfied he’d remember it. Once
that was done, she’d handed him the flash drive. “Don’t lose it, sweetie,” she
said, giving him a pixie smile. “Remember, it’s the only thing keeping your
boyfriend alive right now.”

Mark pulled his trembling hands off
the steering wheel, grabbed his laptop bag and got out of the car. If he inserted
the trapdoor code, Caren would have complete access to Lone Star’s financial
system, with the ability to drain customer accounts and transfer the money to her
choice of offshore financial institutions. Even if the National Credit Union
Administration could cover the loss, it would be a huge scandal among the
thousands of credit union customers. Lone Star Credit Union would almost
undoubtedly collapse as a result, Trickster Tech would be sued into insolvency
for allowing the theft to happen in the first place, and he would be looking at
jail time for his part in it all.

If he didn’t insert the code,
Delaney would die.

Sick to his stomach, he signed in
with the building’s night security guard and headed to the fourth floor where
Trickster Tech had its offices. To his surprise Aimee was at the reception
desk, and she gave him a wave as he walked in.

“What are you doing here?” he said,
hoping he sounded normal.

“Acting as gofer, backup typist and
general dogsbody for all you poor fools doing the release,” she said with a
smile. “I’m also ordering pizza around eleven, so what kind do you like?”

The prosaic question threw Mark. He
stammered something about sausage and onions, when he heard voices coming from
the corridor where the executive offices were located. It sounded like Scott
Devlin was arguing with someone. “I better get to my desk,” he muttered.