The Infatuation (Josh and Kat #1 , The Club #5) (23 page)

I close my eyes and begin touching myself, trying to
duplicate the precise way Josh touched me when we “danced” at
Reed’s club. God, that was hot. So
fucking
hot.

Oh, I’m already pulsing like crazy.

My fingers massage and rub, working round and
round.

I imagine the ridges and ripples of Josh’s abs, the
incredible muscles on his arms, that tight “V” on either side of
his lower pelvis, his tattoos, and, the crowning glory, that
incredible hard-on I saw hiding beneath his wet briefs.

Oh, I’m especially sensitive to touch right now.
Getting myself off today is gonna be as easy as falling off a
greasy log.

I begin moaning softly.

Oh, I’m right on the cusp.

I imagine the outline of Josh’s hard dick in his wet
briefs, and then I fantasize about it sliding inside me, thrusting
in and out of me, over and over.

His lips are on mine, devouring me. His hands are
touching my naked body. He’s whispering in my ear, calling me his
Party Girl with a Hyphen.

Oh yeah. My skin is beginning to prickle like I’ve
got a chill, always a deliciously disorienting sensation under hot
steaming water.

I imagine the cocky expression on Josh’s face when
he accused me of dripping down my thigh with desire for
him—
which I was
. Oh, God, yes, I was.

I’m rocked with a massive orgasm that makes my
insides twist and shudder.

“Fuck,” I blurt. “Oh my God.”

Pleasure is vibrating between my legs and throughout
my abdomen.

Oh boy. That was a nice one.

I return the showerhead to its holder and lean into
the shower wall for a moment.

I’ve never wanted a man this much in all my
life.

Damn.

What have I done? How the hell am I gonna get myself
out of this pickle I’ve created? Never in a million years did I
think it would take this long to wear Josh down. I figured he’d
throw me some nominal, flirtatious resistance and then give me what
I want, the way all other men do, to be perfectly honest.
Goddammit
. I feel like stomping my foot in frustration.

I get out of the shower and dry off with one of the
thick, white towels on the nearby shelf and quickly check my texts
again—I stayed in the shower longer than I intended to—and,
oopsies, there’s a group text from Jonas, telling Henn, Josh and me
to meet him and Sarah up in his suite in ten minutes. Oh, crap. I
better get a move on.

I quickly dial Josh. He picks right up.

“Did you see Jonas’ text?” I ask.

“Yeah, I just got it a minute ago. Henn and I are on
our way to your room to get you. We don’t want you walking up to
their suite alone. See you in five.”

Josh

It’s official. Sarah Fucking Cruz is the biggest
badass I’ve ever met. She took a naked selfie in the bad guys’
bathroom and emailed it to them right then and there? She must have
ice in her veins. Ha! Well, I guess Kat’s not the only terrorist in
our group. Holy shit.

“And then,” Sarah continues, beaming, “
both
of them opened my email right on the spot.”

“Now
that’s
the way to do it, Sarah Cruz!
Who’s the fucking genius now?” Henn shouts, scrambling to his
laptop.

I glance over at Jonas in the far corner, intending
to share a look of celebration with him, but his jaw is clenched
and his eyes are blue chips of granite.

“Bingo,” Henn says after a brief moment of studying
his screen. “You did it, Sarah. We’re in. I’ve got Oksana’s
computer and that guy’s phone. Holy shit. Jackpot.”

“She’s a fucking assassin,” I whisper to Kat.

“Birds of a feather flock together.” She winks.

I chuckle.

“Oh my God,” Henn says, staring intently at his
computer screen. “The bastard forwarded your email to another
computer and opened your photo there, too.” He makes a sound of
extreme joy. “Brilliant, Sarah.” He clicks a button on his keyboard
and, all of a sudden, his cheeks suddenly turn bright red.

“So, Henn?” Sarah asks, her cheeks flushing every
bit as much as Henn’s.

Henn jerks his head up from his screen, his cheeks
blazing. “Yes?”

“So now what?” Sarah asks.

“Well, um,” Henn says. He swallows hard. Oh yeah, my
boy’s definitely been thrown for a loop by something on his screen.
Henn clears his throat. “I’ll snoop around both computers and this
Max guy’s phone and see what I can find. And then we wait for them
to hopefully access their mainframe and bank accounts. I imagine we
won’t have to wait too long.”

“Can you delete that photo?” Jonas asks, his voice
tight. “Can you find it and erase it everywhere?”

“Um, sure, no problem,” Henn says quickly, his face
turning an even darker shade of red. “I can delete it right now, if
you want me to. I’ve got total access.”

Oh, well, that answers that question: Henn’s looking
at the selfie Sarah sent to Oksana and Max. Ha! Poor Henn never did
know how to keep a poker face.

“Yeah, but if you delete that photo off their
computers now, won’t that tip them off?” Kat asks.

“Yeah,” Henn says. “If that photo magically
disappears, this Max dude is gonna know something’s up for sure—and
if he designed their tech like he says, then he’s a badass
motherfucker of epic proportions and we don’t want to do anything
to tip him off.”

“Well, then, don’t delete it. I don’t want to give
them any reason whatsoever to be suspicious,” Sarah says. She juts
her chin at Jonas.

“I agree,” Henn says. He winces at Jonas like he’s
expecting to get punched.

Jonas exhales and crosses his arms over his chest,
his brand new engraved bracelet gleaming on his wrist. Oh man, he’s
in full serial-killer mode right now, though I don’t understand
why. What did he expect Sarah to do? It was do or die time and she
did
. If she were my girl, I’d be kissing her from head to
toe right now, telling her she’s a fucking genius. Seriously, my
brother is the dumbest (smartest) guy I know.

“God, Sarah,” Kat says, laughing. “First the
solo-boob shot and now this. You’re quite the exhibitionist, aren’t
you?”

“A ‘boob shot?” I ask. “Oh my goodness, tell us
more, Sarah Cruz.”

Sarah blushes. “Just a little sexting with this
really hot guy I met online.” She looks at Jonas, but he remains
stone-faced. “A hot guy who
used
to have a sense of humor,”
she continues. “It’s no big deal—all the kids are doing it these
days.”

Jesus. My brother’s being a total prick. I gotta
help this poor girl out. “And all the politicians,” I add.

“And athletes,” Henn says.

“And housewives,” Kat adds.

“And grandmas,” I say.

“And some priests, too,” Henn adds, and everyone
(except Jonas) laughs.

Kat beams a smile at me and I wink back at her.

“Sarah, you picked the perfect bait for your email,”
Kat says, swigging from a water bottle. “No matter how smart or
powerful or rich a guy might be, he’s got the same Kryptonite as
every other man throughout history.” She raises one eyebrow at me.
“
Naked
boobs
.”

I return the eyebrow-raise. “Are we really that
simple?” I ask.

“Yes,” Kat says. “You really are.”

I laugh.

“Never underestimate the power of porn,” Henn
says.

“That’s catchy,” Kat says. “The porn industry should
adopt that for a billboard campaign.”

“I don’t think the porn industry needs help with
their marketing,” Henn says.

I look over at Jonas again, hoping he’s eased up on
the psycho-killer bullshit, but he’s still channeling Ted Bundy
over there. Shit. Poor Sarah. A woman’s got to be superhuman to put
up with my fucking brother, I swear to God—or maybe just a
masochist.

“That was really quick thinking on your feet,
Sarah,” I say. “You went in there hoping to harpoon a baby whale,
and you wound up landing Moby Dick. Great job.” I raise my eyebrows
pointedly at Jonas. “Right, bro?
Aren’t you proud of her
?” I
say.

Jonas scowls at me, the bastard.

“I was scared; I’m not gonna lie,” Sarah says. “My
hands were shaking like crazy the whole time I was in there. But
there was no way I was gonna leave that building without implanting
that virus, no matter what. There was too much at stake.”

“You’re such a badass, Sarah,” Kat says.

Jonas exhales and uncrosses his arms and Sarah
shoots him a look that says, “Screw you, motherfucker.” Ah, well,
maybe little Miss Sarah Cruz is gonna be able to handle my brother,
after all.

“Hey, guys,” Henn says, engrossed with something on
his screen. “Holy shit. Oksana’s going into her bank account right
now—that Henderson Bank we were scouting out before?” He stares at
the screen for another ten seconds. “Sha-zam. She just typed in her
password. Ha! I got it.” He shakes his head. “Oh man, I love
technology.”

“So what do we do?” Sarah asks.

“We wait a few minutes for her to log off, and then
we go in and snoop around.”

“Sounds like the perfect time for me to fill drink
orders,” I say, heading to the bar. “Party Girl with a Hyphen?”

“Club soda, please.”

“You sure you don’t want a little hair of the
dog?”

She shakes her head, grimacing. “I’m sure.”

Damn, she’s cute. “I’ll join you. My liver could
probably use a little break.”

“We’re really not living up to our nicknames, you
know,” she says.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I get everyone else’s drink orders, and just as I’m
passing a glass of champagne to Sarah, Henn calls us over to his
computer screen. “She’s logged off,” he announces. “Let’s go
in.”

We all gather around Henn’s computer, bursting with
anticipation.

“Well, she’s already deposited your checks—one
hundred eighty thousand big ones,” Henn says. “I bet that boils
your blood, huh, Jonas?”

Jonas grunts.

“And she just transferred half of it into her
savings account. Hmm,” Henn says, sounding perplexed.

“What?” Sarah asks, her eyes bugging out.

“Even after today’s deposit, Oksana’s got only about
half a million total in these two accounts.” He furrows his
brow.

“Hmm,” I say.

“Hmm, indeed,” Henn agrees. “Chump change. These
must be Oksana’s personal accounts—definitely not The Club’s main
accounts.”

“Damn,” Sarah says. “So how do we find the big
money?”

Jonas walks away from the group to the other side of
the room, apparently mulling things over.

“We just have to wait for them to log into their
main bank accounts,” Henn says. “It could be five minutes, five
hours, five days—who knows?”

I glance at Kat and something’s made her visibly
anxious all of a sudden, though I have no idea what it was.

“But I guarantee they’ll lead us there sooner or
later,” Henn continues. “And in the meantime, I’ll take a nice,
long gander around their files and data, make copies of everything,
see if there’s anything of interest. Oh, and I’ll listen to Max’s
voicemails, too. That’s so cool you got Max’s phone, Sarah.” He
sips his beer. “Dang, there’s a lot to do.”

I exhale loudly, drawing everyone’s attention,
including Kat’s. “Well, it looks like poor Henn’s gonna be working
through the night again, going through all this stuff.” I pull out
my phone, intending to text Reed about those RCR tickets. “What do
you say, Party Girl with a Hyphen—you wanna paint Sin City red with
me again?”

“I’d actually like to help Henn, if that’s okay,”
Kat says.

I’m blown away. She’d rather stay here and help Henn
with his hacking shit than watch the RCR concert from
backstage?

“I’m kind of excited about all this. I have a strong
motivation to want to bury these guys,” she adds. She looks at
Sarah and her facial expression bursts with protectiveness. “Would
that be okay with you, Henn? Or would I be in your way?”

My heart is racing and my skin is buzzing. I
wouldn’t have predicted Kat turning down backstage tickets at the
Garden Arena to help Henn hack into The Club—not in a million
years.

“No, that’d be awesome,” Henn says. “But only if you
really want to. I mean Josh and Jonas are
paying
me to do
this, so . . .”

“Could you use my help, too?” I ask.

Henn’s face lights up. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

“Okay, then. I’ll order us room service and the
three of us will get to work.”

“Make that the four of us,” Sarah says. “I’ll stick
around and help, too. I’m pretty motivated to bury these guys,
too.”

We all look at Jonas. Obviously, this is his cue to
say, “Me, too.” Or better yet, “No, baby, lemme take you out to
celebrate how you kicked the bad guys’ asses today.” But Jonas
doesn’t say either of those things. Of course not. Because he’s an
imbecile—a socially inept imbecile. Instead, my stupid
serial-killer-moron of a dumbshit-brother just stands in the
corner, silently sipping his beer. Well, I guess I’ll just have to
give the fucker a little push.

“Nah,” I say. “You two kids should go out and
celebrate
.” I look at Jonas pointedly. “Or stay
in
and celebrate, whatever floats your boat. Either way,
definitely
celebrate
—you both kicked ass today.”

Jonas’ eyes flicker with sudden understanding of
what I’m trying to tell him. He looks at Sarah, but he’s already
blown it—she’s looking away, gritting her teeth. Oh shit. She looks
like she’s ready to join Kat in roasting some testicle s’mores.

I grin at Sarah, trying to charm her into forgiving
my stupid brother. “The three of us will move our party down to my
suite and let you two crazy kids swing on the chandeliers up
here.”

Jonas takes a long, slow sip of his beer, staring at
Sarah—and she’s flashing him the most adorable look of defiance
I’ve ever seen. Well, actually, she’s flashing him the
second
most adorable look of defiance I’ve ever seen—the
first being the look Kat flashed me last night when she stood in
that hallway in her skimpy undies, dripping wet, absolutely crazed
with jealousy, banging on the call button for the elevator.