Double Dealing: A Menage Romance (32 page)

“Hold on a second,” I told Carly, digging out my phone.

I quickly scanned the text.

I wasn’t sure exactly who it was, but it didn’t matter. I knew it had to be someone from Anonymous. I quickly tapped out a response.

I stuffed the phone back into my pocket.

Carly stared at me suspiciously. “Who was that?”

I ignored her and nodded at her laptop. “Do you want to see this video or not?”

A moment later I was sitting at the desk and inserting my flash drive into her laptop. I brought up the drive and clicked the video file.

“Oh my God,” Carly whispered in horror as the video popped up on the screen and began playing.

In the video, a darkened alley could be seen. After a moment, a man and woman came into view. They appeared to be arguing bitterly, with the woman gesturing wildly in the man’s face.

Suddenly, the man seemed to have enough of her bitching and began violently choking her. The woman fought valiantly, even appearing to grab something and slamming the man in the face with it. It allowed her to break free from him briefly and she stumbled off. He quickly recovered, though, and caught up with her. While struggling to contain his victim, he managed to produce something from his pocket and slid it across her neck. She clutched at her neck in horror as blood poured from her wound.

The man brutally shoved the woman to the ground and delivered a solid kick to her ribs. After a moment, she grew still and he bent down, placing a hand on her neck. Satisfied, he got up and began walking off, but not before the camera caught a good glimpse of his face.

Carly had her hand over her mouth, her expression horrified. “That
is
Mayor Bradley,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can. He’s a slimeball and is as corrupt as they come.” I took the flash drive out and stuffed it back in my pocket, turning to face Carly. “And that, my dear sis, is why I have tracked you down. I need you to help me expose him for the dirt bag he truly is.”

Carly was silent for nearly a minute, appearing lost in thought. “We need to take this to the police,” she decided finally. “Tell them that you made a mistake hacking into their servers and stumbled upon the video by accident.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” I demanded. “They’re the ones covering for him. If I do that, I’m liable to be locked up and never to be heard from again. Meanwhile, the video will just disappear.” I shook my head. “No, what we need to do is get the evidence out to independent sources, that way there’s no way they’ll be able to stop it once the video starts circulating all over the internet.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Carly muttered.

“Believe it,” I said firmly. “This is no time for hysterics, Carly. The sooner you get over your shock, the better.” I pointed at her laptop. “How much traffic do you get to that news blog of yours?”

“Not much. Just enough to cover the bills here, actually.”

“What about analytics. Do you know about the type of people visiting your site and where they’re from?”

Carly shrugged. “I assume that they come for my genius reporting,” she replied jokingly. “But I have no idea.”

“Hmmm, I’ll look into that,” I murmured thoughtfully. I scratched behind my ear. “If we put this video on there, I think I could increase traffic to your site ten-fold. After that, I’m sure the video will spread like the Z-virus.”

“How do you expect to do that?” Carly demanded.

I gave her my most cocky grin. “I’m Razor, that’s how.”

Carly snorted with derision. “Please.”

“Seriously, though. Can I count on you to help me see this through?” I don’t know why her aid was so important to me, but it was.

Carly’s response wasn’t immediate, and I must admit that it stung a little. I know she was angry with me for not even a phone call, but shit, cut me some slack. My freedom was at stake here.

“I’ll do it,” she said finally, filling me with relief. “But I have a feeling I’ll regret it.” The last words she uttered under her breath but I still heard it.

I wiped at my brow. “Damn, for a moment there I thought you were going turn me in.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d never do something like that . . . even if you do deserve it.”

“You sure about that? You were going to blow me when I walked through the door.” I gave her a mischievous grin so she could catch my meaning.

Carly scowled. “In your dreams. You almost got your head blown off, though, that’s for sure.”

In my dreams
. Well she was right about that one. She most certainly
had
blown me in my dreams. On more than one occasion.

“So what now?” Carly demanded worriedly, not waiting for a reply. “Are we just going to throw the footage up on my website or are you going to . . ?”

“First,” I said rising from my seat and nodding towards her little couch. “I’m going to pass out on your sofa.” The thing looked too small to house my large muscular frame, but after nearly forty-eight hours of no sleep, even resting on a bed of rocks seemed like a good idea. “I’ve literally been running on fumes for the past two days.” I yawned, suddenly very tired. “I need a good sleep to refresh myself.”

“Okay,” Carly agreed. “I want to get this done. I’m going to be on pins and needles around here.”

“Right,” I replied drowsily as I made my way over to the couch and flopped down on my back. The fatigue that I’d been dodging for what seemed like forever was finally catching up to me.

“One last thing,” Carly said.

“Yeah?” My eyes were already closing.

“What was the victim’s name?” Her voice almost sounded like it was underneath water.

The last thing I remembered before the darkness took me was sluggishly uttering, “Ashley Collins.”

I
can’t believe
he’s lying right in front of me.

Mason’s light snores filled the cabin as he slumbered on my couch, his long legs extending off the side.

Sitting across from him, holding vigil, I watched as his flat stomach gently rose with each inhale, marveling at his body and then admiring his handsome face.

He looked like the day he’d left. Nothing had changed. Well, there were some changes. Mason had always been cut and fit, even in his teenage years, but now he seemed bigger than I remembered — more filled out. More like . . . a man.

I wanted to reach out and touch him, run my fingers along his body. It was something I always dreamt about doing. What was stopping me? He was in a deep sleep and would be none-the-wiser.

Hell, he was so exhausted I could probably even take a peak . . .

Carly!

I let out an explosive breath. I’d been seconds away from reaching out to feel him . . . to feel
it
.
Shit.
I
so
badly wanted to know if he was all talk. It was suddenly stifling hot in the cabin. I needed to cool off, to get away from the tempting image of my slumbering stepbrother.

Fanning myself, I got up from my seat and moved in the corner where I could still keep a watchful eye on him but maintain a safe distance.

As I sat there, I wondered what he’d he been up to while he was gone? Where did he go? Most importantly, why didn’t he call me?

Was he really in some kind of serious relationship?

Thinking about it filled me with anger, even though it shouldn’t have.

There’s no denying it. I was jealous then and I’m jealous now. But I need to stop and get over it. We will never be together.

I was a little annoyed at myself that I was more worried about where Mason was putting his cock, than worrying about the explosive evidence that he’d brought to my doorstep.

As a wannabe mainstream journalist, this could make my career.

Sure, I was pissed at Mason for deserting me, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Now was the time to seize the moment.

I’d made a promise to Rosemary Collins. If Ashley Collins was to have justice, I needed to help Mason bring Mayor Bradley down. Rosemary gets her justice, I jumpstart my career, and Mason stays out of jail and alive.

It was almost too much to believe. Even now, I was having trouble believing that the charismatic Mayor could have done something like that, even after seeing it with my own eyes.

And the police, they’re just as guilty covering it up.

The whole thing disgusted me. These were our public officials that were there to keep us safe and to look out for us.

I started to gain a sense of courage, of purpose. I felt like it was my duty to expose this corruption, felt honor-bound to get the truth out there — to be Mason’s sidekick in doing so gave me all the more courage to see it through.

I’m going to make sure everyone who’s involved in this pays if it’s the last thing I do
, I vowed.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be rewarded justly for my efforts. If not with a career, maybe with an eight-inch cock.

Carly!

Despite the dangers of helping expose Mayor Bradley, I knew that the potential reward outweighed the risks.

With evidence that could rock an entire city, maybe even the whole state, there wasn’t an up-and-coming journalist on earth who wouldn’t want to be in my shoes.

If we released the video on my blog, and Mason allowed me to take full credit, I’d be famous overnight. I’d finally get the recognition I deserved.

Despite the grim circumstances, I was filled with excitement. This is what journalists lived for.

I
spent
the rest of the evening doing menial tasks, sweeping the floors, cleaning the kitchen and occasionally peeking out the window for unexpected visitors while watching over Mason.

It took some effort, but I managed to keep my lustful thoughts to a minimum.

When midnight came, I was ready to crash. Mason was still snoring away, and I was getting too tired to keep watch. Besides, he had all but assured me that no one knew where he was . . . for now.

“He really is exhausted,” I murmured quietly, watching his chest rise and fall as he snored gently. Noticing goosebumps on his arms, I dug a warm blanket out of a small storage container next to the couch and placed it over him. I stepped back and eyed it critically. It didn’t cover his whole body, but it would do.

Buoyed by a sudden impulse, I bent forward and gently kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, Mason Keller,” I whispered softly.

He continued to snore unabated, and after a moment of staring at his handsome face, I went into my small bedroom, undressed, garbed myself in pajamas, and got into bed.

I laid there, waiting for sleep to take me, but it never would. My mind was on Mason, and the fact that he was in the next room over. His body looked like it was etched in stone, and I’d love to run my tongue over each and every inch of it.

I visualized what it would feel like having his powerful hands touch me and caress my curves, going down below until he . . .

Sighing softly, I slid my hands down my stomach and under the lap band of my damp panties. I was just about to touch myself when I paused.

What am I doing?

I wasn’t much of a fan of masturbation, I always felt guilty afterward, but sometimes I couldn’t help myself and desperately needed to relieve tension. Like now.

I’d be working closely with Mason for the next however long. The sexual tension inside me was was just going to continue to grow.

I might have to do this nightly
, I thought.

I started rubbing myself in a circular motion, thinking about how it would feel to have my long-lost stepbrother touch me.

“Oh Mason,” I moaned softly, knowing that after I relieved this particular itch, I’d be able to face him without wanting to jump his bones every other second. Or so I hoped.

“
C
an
you go see what’s keeping Mason?” my mother asked, walking into the dining room from the kitchen with a large tray in her hands. “We’re about to sit down with the Gardeners for dinner and I don’t want him walking in after we’ve started serving the food.”

I stopped setting dining table and scowled. “Seriously? It’s my first weekend back home, and your back to sending me to fetch Mason? Sheesh, mom. Mason’s a grown man. I’m not, and never have been, his keeper. He’ll show up when he wants to.”

And he definitely doesn’t care what neighbors you have over or who you’re trying impress,
I thought.
Mason does what he wants to do.

M
ason
, who was a few years older than me, was almost done with his master’s degree in web communications — while I was just getting started with my major in journalism at a nearby university.

When he first started college, I would only see him on weekends every now and then. He’d spend a lot of his time with me, surprisingly, giving me tips for college and instilling me with confidence for success.

I cherished those times, and hated when he had to head back to school.

But once I started college, I stopped seeing him at all. It always seemed we had conflicting schedules.

It was difficult at first, adjusting to never seeing him. What made it worse was that I found myself always daydreaming about being with him and wondering what he was up to when I should’ve been engrossed in my studies.

After a while, I got frustrated with my infatuation with him. What was the point of fantasizing about him if it could never be?