4. Little Black Files

Click, clack. Click, clack.

The sounds of my keyboard always make me feel grounded.

My brother gives me simple tasks to put my love for technology to "good use". Whatever that means. I don"t mind putting together his neat little client files though. He needs the electronic records for backup in case something happens to his precious ledgers. How lucky did he get that as tech advanced, I finally peaked in something that he had no hopes of mastering.

Seriously. I watched him text once. It was painful.

I zip the file for the latest loser who hired my brother to handle their ledger and move to work on pulling the last of the information I need for my own file. My little black files. Each one contains all of the information I give to my brother, but I also include the information from their second accountant. And sometimes, their third.

While Viggo handles all of the funds and preps documents for taxes and all that other proper bullshit, the other accountants on some of these douchebag"s payroll deal with laundering money and hidden offshore accounts with untraceable origins.

Well, untraceable if you aren"t me.

While there are some decent people who hire my brother, there is also a good chunk who would happily use him as a fall guy should things in their empire go south. So I keep receipts. A little insurance. Every questionable transaction, information for every hired back-alley prostitute or pampered whore. I have copies of deeds for properties they keep hidden from spouses and even copies of court records from times when the justice system attempted and failed to bring them down.

Then there is the most damning evidence of all. The pictures. These fuckfaces love to take pictures of people they hurt, rape, and even murder. Some have nothing but porn, but even then there are the sick fucks with unusual "porn" like kid and animal stuff.

I mean, I guess if a horse was flirting with me or something, I might give it a try. But a kid? That"s a special kind of sickness reserved for the deepest pits of hell. And I know what those pits are like. I"ve been there.

Ten out of ten do not recommend it as a vacation spot or a place to be trapped in for a few hundred years.

Whenever I think about our time there, I get a twinge of jealousy for my brother. The lucky bastard has no recollection of ever being there, let alone trapped by a she-demon with a fascination for keeping us as a pet. I think his brain used some sort of memory suppression as a coping mechanism.

I wish I could suppress it.

Instead, I get called "crazy" because my coping with the bullshit seems to be a lack of empathy. Or decorum as my smarty pants brother likes to say when he thinks I can"t hear him. I know I"m fucked up in the head. I just have no hangups about letting it all hang out.

With a few more clicks, I have my little black file zipped and stored away for safekeeping. Standing up and stretching, I disconnect the flash drive from Viggo, and take it to his office. When I don"t see him right away, I simply sashay my naked ass over to his safe, type in the code he is convinced I could never figure out, and deposit it into the box filled with about a hundred others. I"ll let him organize it in there when he gets back from...

Did he tell me where he went?

Meh, whatever. He"s a big bad adult and can sort himself out.

I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. For a brief moment, I contemplate pulling down Viggo"s secret murphy bed. I laid in it once, just out of curiosity. But I put it back up before he found out. As much as I enjoy tormenting my brother, I know that his little secret bed and secret compartments throughout the house are his way of holding onto his sanity. I won"t rob him of that. Even if those sheets are buttery soft and the pillow cradles your head like a delicate pair of balls.

With a wistful sigh, I force myself to leave my brother"s sanctum and head back to my own room. When I reach my doorway, a sensation settles over me, and has every single hair follicle on my body becomes erect with goosebumps. A scent carries to my nose and has me nearly moaning. It"s not food, but it makes me hungry. No, wait. Hungry isn"t the right word. This is more like.

Desire.

What in the fuck is that deliciousness?

I begin searching the house. Checking everywhere, but coming no closer to the source. When I make my way back to the hall between my brother"s office and our bedrooms, the scent drags me along for a ride, moving my feet for me. One step after another, pushing me forward until I reach the doorway to my brother"s office once more.

And there she is.

The most beautiful creature I have ever seen. She carefully checks through the files in the drawer, before standing and heading to the cabinet. For a moment I simply stand there, transfixed by her presence. She is tall and curvy, but her body flexes with muscles underneath that would give an athlete a run for their money. Her black khaki shorts are just long enough to cover her ass. And boy is it in ass.

The black tank top hugs her like butter and I can even see one of her pert nipples standing on edge from here. So much chocolatey skin on display and begging for me to have a taste. Her tiny silky black and blue braids are pulled back in a tie, revealing her regal face.

I almost feel ashamed to be in her presence. And yet... something about this female calls to me. Beacons me to worship her. I can almost taste the magic that permeates the air around her. There is no denying that this may be the most powerful person I have ever met. And I"ve met the devil himself.

When I take a step forward, her one hand extends with the most vicious-looking blade I have ever seen and brings me to a halt. I don"t recall noticing that before. Strange.

"I do not wish to hurt you. I only search for information." She latches on to one of the leather-bound ledgers and carefully pulls it out, before turning to face me. While her expression remains unbothered, her eyes betray her shock when she notices that I am completely naked.

"You may have whatever you wish." The words leave my mouth in a whisper and my voice sounds nearly foreign. Why the fuck did I say that?

"You are naked." Her voice rumbles with desire and my cock does a little dance at being noticed. She licks her lips and closes the distance between us. "Perhaps you can be of more use to me."

She places a hand on my chest and trails it down my torso, making me shudder. But just as quickly, she pulls her hand back on a gasp. Almost as if touching me burned her. She snarls and brings that blade I seemed to have forgotten about, right back to my neck.

"What are you?" Even her snarl has a sexy grumble to it and damned if my cock doesn"t start leaking precum from this whole situation. What can I say? I"m a kinky fucker and this blade is kinda doing it for me. Who am I kidding? She is what"s doing it for me.

What a second, did she ask me a question?

As if on cue, my mouth opens and an answer pops out, surprising us both.

"Horny as fuck."

Yeah, I don"t think that"s what she meant.

Still, can"t blame me for speaking my truth.