Double Dealing: A Menage Romance

“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.”





Chapter 5


Carly





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.