“Holy fuck ... this is something else,” Parker whispers, and I just grin at the three of them. I can’t see myself, of course, but judging by the expression on their faces I must be quite a sight. My skin’s glistening with their cum, and here I am drinking it from a glass as eagerly as anyone has ever done anything.
“Here’s to you,” I whisper, raising the glass one more time. I bring it to my lips once more, and this time I bring whatever’s left inside into my mouth, swallowing it at once. Then, I open my hand and allow the glass to roll onto the seat.
There’s a deep silence for a while, as all of us reel from the frenzied pleasure that overtook us. Derek’s the one breaking that silence, his words pushing away all the tension.
“Now that’s how you wish someone good luck.”
Chapter 13
Derek
Crossing the street, I fasten my jacket and put a cap on.
I’m not that famous that anyone will recognize me, but I don’t want to take any chances. In and out, and that as fast as I can—that’s the plan, and I’m not looking forward for some quick improvisation.
Entering the apartment building, I make my way up the old wooden stairs, my stride covering two of them at a time. There’s a kind of eery silence that permeates the whole building, as its old walls are still thick enough to push out the frenetic sound of New York, and I feel a cold shiver climbing up my spine.
Mason sounded confident about the whole plan … but then again, Mason’s always confident about everything. What if we’re walking into a trap? What if, by being here, we make things even harder for Abby and Naughty Angel? There’s no doubt in my mind that Sienna would use a break-in as leverage to get what she wants.
Alright, I need to cool off. I sound like a whiny little bitch right now.
Stopping in front of the door to Sienna’s office, I place my hand on the handle and turn it. Locked, of course. Looking from side to side, to make sure that I’m completely alone on this floor, I place one hand in my back pocket and take out the small lockpick kit I brought with me.
I go down on one knee in front of the door and open the kit on top of my knee, my eyes flying over the small metal pins. I take two of them out and, moving slowly, I slide them inside the lock and start turning them around.
Now, I know what you’re thinking; why does a cover model (and occasional but gallant and well-endowed bartender) know how to pick a lock? Crazy story, but I once had a woman lock me inside her apartment while she went to work. She was batshit crazy, and I actually had to go online and figure out a way to escape. Lucky for me, I’m a fast learner.
Click, clack - the lock finally jumps out of place, and I sigh with relief. It seems my skills still haven’t deserted me. Standing up, I push the door open and step inside. Even though I know there’s no one around and that Sienna and her assistants are at the Shameless Book Convention in Florida, I try to be as silent as possible.
I close the door behind me and scan the main room of the office; there are three desks disposed in a semicircle, and all of them are stacked with documents. In the center of each desk there’s an old laptop, each of them propped with colored stickers jutting out from the edge of the screen. The last time I was here the place wasn’t this cluttered, so I figure things must really have gone to hell after Sienna fired Cara. Not that I’m surprised; Sienna’s writing is a mess, so I suppose her office would be a reflection of that.
“Alright, let’s get it over it,” I whisper, walking toward the closed door at the end of the main room. It has a small window on it, but a set of discolored blinders block the view. I try and turn the handle and, thankfully, this door isn’t locked.
Sienna’s private office isn’t as cluttered as the main room, but that’s probably because she delegates everything to her assistants. She always saw herself as a genius at heart, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she saw duties other than her writing as beneath her. Writing and acting like a crazy bitch, that is.
Her laptop sits on the middle of her desk, its lid closed. I walk around the desk and, sitting down on Sienna’s executive chair, I open the laptop lid and fire it up. The screen lights up fast and, just as I expected, there’s a password prompt.
“I hope you’re fucking right, Mason,” I mutter as I take the USB drive out of one pocket and plug it in. A dark pop up window takes over the screen as the USB drive bypasses the password, and a string of numbers and words start rolling through the screen as the laptop’s hard drive is copied.
I tap my foot against the floor as the seconds roll by slowly, but thankfully it doesn’t take long: just five minutes later and I unplug the USB drive. I shut down the laptop and close its lid, making sure that it’s exactly in the same position it was when I arrived in here. I stuff the drive into my pocket, go up to my feet, and start walking toward the door, ready to leave.
Only then do I notice her.
“Lon
g time, no see, Derek,” Sienna tells me, leaning against the doorway. There’s an amused grin on her lips, and her whole expression has that I’m a raging bitch vibe going on.
“Hello, Sienna. Nice haircut,” I tell her with a smirk.
She used to pride herself in her long hair, but I guess that Cara’s chewing gum quickly put an end to that pride. She had to cut it short, and so much that she now has a boyish look. Her cheeks look hollowed out, and the slight beauty I thought she once had seems to have evaporated. It’s funny how a simple haircut can change so many things at once.
“Really funny, Derek,” she whispers, her eyes narrowing into two evil slits. “But let me wipe that smile off your face,” she continues, walking toward me with a confident gait.
“You thought you were smarter than me, didn’t you? You and your little friends,” she whispers, her words coiled into themselves like a switchblade. “I never went to the Shameless convention, you know?”
“Afraid they’d laugh at your haircut?”
“Keep laughing, Derek,” she replies, her tone more menacing than ever. “We’ll see who’s laughing by the time this story ends.”