other yet, they would be soon.
Anger faded as he contemplated the idea, and a smile curled his lips. Maybe that was how she was working him. The weakness she’d found to exploit. LadyBug was a hacker to her bones, not as technically skilled as he was, for sure, but she was inventive. She had good instincts and she could figure out how to get into any system—maybe she’d gotten into the cop’s via his dick.
In which case, he supposed he could forgive her, but he’d have to watch some more to know for sure. He’d hoped she would wait for him. He’d wanted to have the pleasure of sinking in between her sweet thighs for the first time in five years. But if she had to make that kind of sacrifice for the cause, he could understand.
On the other hand, if she’d really turned, well…then he’d have to come up with a more severe punishment.
S AGE STARED OUT THE WINDOW as they turned the corner into the historic neighborhoods of Ghent and pulled to the curb. This was a place she knew well from her childhood. Her parents had several friends who lived in the wealthy section of the city, and she’d often played in these immaculately groomed yards, though she hadn’t kept in contact with any of the friends she’d had here.
Ghent was the city’s first “planned community,” created at the turn of the twentieth century, far different from the cookie-cutter housing developments that littered costal areas nowadays. The place had real Southern charm. A variety of gorgeous Dutch Colonial- and Greek Revival-style homes nestled comfortably next to each other. The area was very peaceful and serene even though it butted against some very busy main streets.
When they’d hit high school, all of her friends had become involved in pep squads and cheerleading, yearbook club and sports, but she just hadn’t been interested in those things. They all seemed so…light.
So she’d spent more and more time hacking, moretime sitting alone at the computer, honing her skills. The separation between her and any of the people she knew, including her own family, had widened. They certainly hadn’t been able or willing to understand her lack of interest in cultivating a proper social life, particularly one befitting a teenage Southern belle.
Sage snorted to herself—she never had been and never would be a belle. Life might do its worst—send her to jail, deny her a decent job, whatever—as long as she was saved from being a Southern belle.
“What are we doing now?”
“We’re going to see what’s on this disk.”
“Ian, I haven’t eaten, showered or even brushed my teeth. I feel gross.” Sage thought wistfully of the Starbucks down at the corner, exhausted and feeling the lack of caffeine in her system now that she had won the battle over being arrested.
“EJ will have something to eat. The rest can wait.”
He got out of the car and headed toward one of the oldest, grandest homes Sage had ever seen in the area. This one had been kept in pristine shape. The austere look of the porch columns was softened by pink magnolia trees that blossomed in the yard. Dense ivy crept along the lower parts of the columns. Blooming flowers sat in pots in the corners of the porch, surrounding them in fragrance.
“Who’s EJ?”
Her question was answered seconds after Ian rang the bell. The man who answered the door smiled widely at Ian, obviously happy to see him, and then politely acknowledged Sage’s presence with a nod and a soft-spoken hello. As the two men exchanged words, Sage noted that EJ was a local—his accent was typical to the area, not the old-timer’s thick accent that sounded like a foreign language, but the upper-class cadence that spun even casual speech into silk.
Even though Sage had the female version of the same accent, she could still appreciate how it made men’s voices incredibly sexy and refined. It was a sign of someone born and bred—very well bred. EJ Beaumont—she caught his last name from the
Anger faded as he contemplated the idea, and a smile curled his lips. Maybe that was how she was working him. The weakness she’d found to exploit. LadyBug was a hacker to her bones, not as technically skilled as he was, for sure, but she was inventive. She had good instincts and she could figure out how to get into any system—maybe she’d gotten into the cop’s via his dick.
In which case, he supposed he could forgive her, but he’d have to watch some more to know for sure. He’d hoped she would wait for him. He’d wanted to have the pleasure of sinking in between her sweet thighs for the first time in five years. But if she had to make that kind of sacrifice for the cause, he could understand.
On the other hand, if she’d really turned, well…then he’d have to come up with a more severe punishment.
S AGE STARED OUT THE WINDOW as they turned the corner into the historic neighborhoods of Ghent and pulled to the curb. This was a place she knew well from her childhood. Her parents had several friends who lived in the wealthy section of the city, and she’d often played in these immaculately groomed yards, though she hadn’t kept in contact with any of the friends she’d had here.
Ghent was the city’s first “planned community,” created at the turn of the twentieth century, far different from the cookie-cutter housing developments that littered costal areas nowadays. The place had real Southern charm. A variety of gorgeous Dutch Colonial- and Greek Revival-style homes nestled comfortably next to each other. The area was very peaceful and serene even though it butted against some very busy main streets.
When they’d hit high school, all of her friends had become involved in pep squads and cheerleading, yearbook club and sports, but she just hadn’t been interested in those things. They all seemed so…light.
So she’d spent more and more time hacking, moretime sitting alone at the computer, honing her skills. The separation between her and any of the people she knew, including her own family, had widened. They certainly hadn’t been able or willing to understand her lack of interest in cultivating a proper social life, particularly one befitting a teenage Southern belle.
Sage snorted to herself—she never had been and never would be a belle. Life might do its worst—send her to jail, deny her a decent job, whatever—as long as she was saved from being a Southern belle.
“What are we doing now?”
“We’re going to see what’s on this disk.”
“Ian, I haven’t eaten, showered or even brushed my teeth. I feel gross.” Sage thought wistfully of the Starbucks down at the corner, exhausted and feeling the lack of caffeine in her system now that she had won the battle over being arrested.
“EJ will have something to eat. The rest can wait.”
He got out of the car and headed toward one of the oldest, grandest homes Sage had ever seen in the area. This one had been kept in pristine shape. The austere look of the porch columns was softened by pink magnolia trees that blossomed in the yard. Dense ivy crept along the lower parts of the columns. Blooming flowers sat in pots in the corners of the porch, surrounding them in fragrance.
“Who’s EJ?”
Her question was answered seconds after Ian rang the bell. The man who answered the door smiled widely at Ian, obviously happy to see him, and then politely acknowledged Sage’s presence with a nod and a soft-spoken hello. As the two men exchanged words, Sage noted that EJ was a local—his accent was typical to the area, not the old-timer’s thick accent that sounded like a foreign language, but the upper-class cadence that spun even casual speech into silk.
Even though Sage had the female version of the same accent, she could still appreciate how it made men’s voices incredibly sexy and refined. It was a sign of someone born and bred—very well bred. EJ Beaumont—she caught his last name from the
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