She nodded and laid back upon the pillows. As my tongue lingered on her breast, my hand slid into the waistband of her panties. She was wet and swollen, and I knew she wanted me. “I love you, Auggie,” I whispered into her ear as two fingers entered her warm body. She shuddered. I knew her ears were sensitive and felt her response as her nipples hardened even more beneath my fingertips.
“Worth,” she breathed out and her eyes closed halfway as she fumbled for my cock. “I need you,” she whimpered.
“I know, baby, I know,” I said and pulled off her night shirt. My pants found their way to the floor, and I lowered myself between her legs, entering her in one sharp thrust. She wriggled and sighed. The yearning she knew so well was being fed with a fire hot burning in my groin.
Auggie’s body had ripened with motherhood. Her breasts were fuller, and her hips had softened from equestrienne bones to the contours of womanly hips. I lifted her bottom, and she answered by wrapping her legs around my waist. This was not the normal sweet lovemaking. This was a reclamation of something we’d lost along the way. I claimed her, over and over and she was submitting. Her nails raked down my chest and folded alongside my neck as she hoarsely repeated my name.
Feeling the rising in both of us, I sank myself within her more furiously than I’d done in a long time. She met every thrust with a raising of her hips. I heard the orgasm in her voice and let it wrap me in convulsions before I released my own. It was like that with us — it always had been. We were timed like an orchestra and perfectly in tune. I stayed inside her warmth and brushed her nipple with my tongue. She convulsed again, and it gave me a helluva turn-on to know I still remembered her magic buttons.
I didn’t pull out, but rolled her with me to our sides, her legs still wrapped around my waist. I pulled her more tightly against me as I naturally softened and eventually left her. It was a small thing, but important between us. She never felt abandoned; she felt completed. I turned her over so I could spoon her, tucking the blankets around us so we were cocooned. I heard the golden words just before she dropped off to sleep.
“You’re all I need,” she sighed, and I nodded and kissed the top of her head, smelling the sunshine in her hair.
“You too,” I answered and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
CHAPTER FOUR
Hawk
It was a strange feeling to be back home. A home where I didn’t belong. No one recognized me and had apparently forgotten I ever existed. I knew I couldn’t cross swords with the law. It wouldn’t take much to uncover my forgeries, and it was even possible there was a judge out there somewhere waiting with warrants bearing my real name. I really had no idea what would happen, but there didn’t seem to be any good reason to find out. For the time being, I’d just content myself with living anonymously next to my family. Like the hawk, I would soar just out of reach and bide my time, watching for the perfect time to strike.
I’d sold my peda-cab company, and while I had enough to buy my farm and live for a while, I knew I needed to find something more to do. Working for someone else was out of the question. It wasn’t in my personality, and there was always that hovering risk of being discovered. I needed to find something that kept me based on the farm. Something lucrative and yet unconnected to the county.
You can’t live in Southern California long without getting caught up in the tech world, and that’s where I turned my attention. I’d accumulated a computer science and business degree and decided those would be the tools of my trade. I set about building a computer lab in my house. The house itself was more than fifty years old, although it was upgraded when I moved in. Even so, it wasn’t adequate for my needs, and I set about adding a new addition; except it was subterranean and attracted no attention.
Electrical was the first consideration. I brought in an electrician from Cincinnati to add a new box and install a backup generator in case of power failures. Internet access was permitted through a dedicated T1 line, and I knew that would suffice. Again, the idea was to not call attention to myself in any way. Most companies doing what I was preparing to do would use a co-hosting company and access their servers for the load. I needed more privacy than that.
All the lighting was artificial; no windows were installed. The floor was anti-static and raised so wiring could run the length of the room beneath panels that could be lifted at will. Workbench desks were installed at the appropriate height for me, and I ordered several of the best computer chairs on the market, one per system.
I set up two Macs, two UNIX and two Windows boxes, each a backup to the other. They were maxed out with memory and video cards. A bank of networked twenty terabyte drives were stacked in a static-proof cabinet. For the aesthetics, I installed a state of the art sound system embedded in the walls and a ninety-inch flat screen monitor on the wall the computers faced. The large screen also served to create ambient slideshows that brought a sense of the outdoor world into the room. It was a setup many times beyond that of the home computer user.
Once everything was running, I began coding. I developed a series of proprietary apps. These could be licensed to companies to allow their employees to access their intranets — all of which I hosted. Business professionals had become accustomed to being their own staff with the aid of their laptop or smart device. I made this possible. While there was nothing particularly innovative about my services, they were gateways into successful businesses and that information held immense value to certain parties. It was a world of corporate espionage — the Star Trek version of sending out secret shoppers or temp employees to your competition. My office was built like a high tech bunker.
I didn’t consider this as any particularly intellectual or egotistical challenge. It was simply a way to bring in a substantial income without questions or visibility. It worked perfectly for me.
When I got out, I frequented the southern end of Louisville where there was less risk of running into anyone who might know me. Although it would be extremely unlikely they’d recognize me due to the heavy scarring, sunglasses, and hair, it was a risk. Risks needed leveraging.
Actually, I was a bit more at home in that world. These were low-income people who never quite made it to the next paycheck and resorted to less savory ways of making up the difference. They weren’t the least superficial. In fact, they didn’t give a damn about anyone but themselves.