that side,” I whispered to Dylan, who was working his way through the books beside the couch. He raised his brows at me, but quickly caught on and moved to Beck’s side of the room.
I got up and went to join them, but didn’t bother pulling books like they were. Instead, I was hunting for any sign of a camera.
“I can’t see shit,” I muttered as I ran my fingers over the spines of books, searching for something out of place. “Give me your phone.” I held my hand out to Beck, and he handed over his iPhone. I ignored the fact that it was still warm from his pocket, and used the screen light to help see the bookshelves.
We searched for what felt like forever until Beck’s phone light reflected off something above my head. “Fuck yes,” I hissed, tucking Beck’s phone into the front of my dress then reaching up and running my fingertip over a camera lens. “Found the camera,” I told the guys. “Entry should be somewhere near here, right?”
I was all the way over, almost in the corner of the room and both Dylan and Beck rushed over from where they’d been searching. Between the three of us, it didn’t take long to locate the entry-book. Great Expectations.
I snorted a laugh at the choice of title, but followed the guys through the tiny door and into the room behind. It was little more than a large closet that held shelves on shelves of whirring computer equipment.
“Sound proofed,” Beck observed, “and a whole lot more than one camera, too.” He traced the bunch of cords from a hole in the wall, back to a locked cupboard. Two seconds later, with the help of Dylan’s lock picks, the cupboard was open and nine monitor screens showed us all angles of the office.
Dylan let out a low whistle. “Shit, he was really set up. I was expecting a nanny cam or some shit but this is...” he shrugged and shook his head.
“Professional?” I suggested. “Like maybe he’s making these tapes for more than just personal use?”
“Exactly that,” Beck murmured his agreement as he peered at the camera and monitor set up. “Let’s find the Petrova recording and get out of here.”
This part—the part where they hacked into Senator Green’s dirty little sex server—I was of no help in. So I stayed out of the way and leaned my back on the open doorway, waiting patiently for them to do their thing.
A few moments later, Beck’s phone vibrated against my boob. Then vibrated again. And again. “Beck, your phone is going nuts,” I whispered, reaching into my dress to fish it out, but only managing to push it further down. There wasn’t a whole lot of space to move in the tightly boned bodice and I’d somehow managed to push his phone down to the space under my boobs instead of pulling it out.
“Ugh, I can’t get it out, either,” I admitted when he frowned at me in confusion. “You need to unzip me, it’s stuck here.” I tapped his phone through my dress where it sat flat against my diaphragm.
“It’ll be one of the boys,” Dylan murmured, shooting Beck a sharp look. “Someone must be coming.”
“Or Jasper is bored,” Beck said back, looking indecisive. “We still don’t have the recording.”
“Keep going,” Dylan urged him, “I’ll retrieve your phone and check.”
I almost laughed at Beck’s look of horror, but we weren’t really in a position to be arguing, so I turned my back to Dylan and swept my hair out of the way. “Quick,” I hissed, “I’d really love not to end up in jail for breaking and entering if someone is coming.”
Dylan didn’t reply, just quickly slid my zipper down, and I needed to act fast to catch my dress against my breasts and prevent it from falling completely to the floor. His warm hand snaked around my waist, plucking Beck’s phone from the waistline seam where it had gotten stuck, then deftly zipped me back up.
“Damn, Dylan,” I chuckled. “Expert at undressing girls, huh?”
A warning sort of growl came from Beck, and Dylan just winked at me when I turned back around. His attention was on Beck’s phone as he keyed in the passcode and opened the messages—then cursed.
“Yep, company. The senator is on his way with tonight’s lucky victim.”
Dylan reached past me and tugged the hidden door closed, shutting us inside the tight space, and I squeaked a sound of confusion.
“There’s no time to get out