The Insiders (The Insiders Trilogy #1) - Tijan Page 0,92
all the files on Matt.
“I deleted everything so she wouldn’t notice it was gone until she went looking for it.”
They were both silent a moment when I was done.
I fidgeted.
That was okay, what I’d done? I mean, maybe not in the grand scheme of the cosmic universe of morals and stuff, but she would’ve hurt us. Hurt Kash. Hurt Matt. In a way, I was just doing what they were doing for me, and what I’d done in the past. I was protecting people I cared about. In that way, I’d done nothing wrong. Karma was on my side.
I still eyed Kash, who hadn’t turned away from me.
What was wrong?
Then he said slowly, “She had your name?”
I nodded, just as slowly as him. “Yeah.”
“And how much information did she have on Matt?”
“A lot.” Scanning through it in my head, I added, “She knew about the Bonham woman.”
Matt jerked at that, rearing backward as if slapped. He hissed out, “What the fuck?”
Kash narrowed his eyes, still on me. “Tell me everything she had on us.”
He waited as I went over it all, and he listened. It took a little while, long enough that a server came over to offer drinks. Matt waved her off as Kash ignored her, listening to me. When I was done, both wore decidedly different expressions than when I’d started.
Unease.
A little bit of panic with Matt, and a darker hint of anger from Kash, one that was riddled with intent to do something not good. I picked up on that unease, but it was about Camille Story. I had enjoyed reading her gossip blog, until finding out more about her run-ins with Matt and then finding how extensive her research on him had been.
“She had a picture of you,” I told Kash.
“Me?”
I nodded. “I don’t know why it wasn’t deleted…” I was reexamining it, and that was wrong. I did know. “She diluted it. She ran it through a program and turned it into a sketch, not even a picture anymore, but it’s of you. His program wouldn’t have flagged it.”
Crap. That was smart, and that had taken planning.
I added, “She knows about the program that wipes out your image.”
Which meant there could be more, kept offline. That wasn’t good.
“Shit.” That was me.
“Shit.” That was Matt.
And Kash, he didn’t say anything. His jaw just firmed, and I knew he wouldn’t be with me tonight. He’d be going somewhere else.
FORTY-THREE
I knew it was only a matter of time before Kash slipped away.
I didn’t know if he’d have me go with him, take me to the estate, home, or where. Or if he’d have the security team take me instead. I just knew two things: he was going to where Camille Story lived, and I was making the most of my time with him.
We didn’t do couple stuff.
This whole thing with us, it came out of nowhere. We hadn’t been normal, but we were a we. I knew that much. Kash was possessive of me, but in a good way. The way a girl loves, the way that fills her up, making her feel special and loved and protected.
That was me, and that’s what Kash was doing when we were offered a private box suite and took it. Pressed high above the club, higher than even where Matt was again sitting with his friends. I could look straight down. Glass was under our feet, the opposite side a mirror to those below. We were out on a deck portion, and a button could open it up, let us hear the music better, feel it.
We were feeling each other just fine.
Kash was behind me, his arms around me, his body pressed against me, and his mouth exploring my neck. He nibbled up, licking me, and a jolt of lust tripled in me. I felt zapped by electricity. My blood simmered almost beyond a light boil by now. A hand swipe down my front. Touching between my legs, exploring, pressing, then retreating and moving back up and tunneling under my top. His other hand slid up the side of my leg, going inside my dress. He’d specifically asked me to wear this, and I now knew why.
Access.
My back was exposed, and as his hand moved below, so did his mouth.
He draped kisses down my spine, and I surged upward, gasping and holding. My back was arched. My breasts pointed upward. He had made sure, bringing me to dizzying heights already before moving to a slower and more controlled pace.