Mind Code (Coded Connections Duet #2)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Amelia

At my desk, I’m drowning in a sea of emails and reports. My eyes are strained from staring at the computer screen for hours. It’s already late afternoon, but I guess it’s going to be the second day in a row that I’ll have to work overtime, and what I desperately need is more sleep.

Yesterday, after Misha held me in his arms for an hour or two, I had to push through the day exhausted. At least that meant that in the evening, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep around eight p.m., with no time to stress about sleeping alone or feeling scared.

But today, I’m still groggy and was quiet at lunch. I hope the guys know that all is good because it is.

I’m happy.

If it weren’t for the frustration of my project being gone and being relegated back to being just the Smart Home girl , life would be perfect.

I’m still debating whether to let the dream of the lensless AR go or to start over from scratch. If I start new, I might be late to the party, but now that I know what I’m doing, I could potentially add a new spin on things .

It could still be good.

Not groundbreaking, but good.

And good can be enough, right?

That thought brings my parents and August to mind. None of them have tried to contact me, not even Abigail. I’m still sure that going with no contact from my side was the best way to go, but it still stings a little that they don’t care. However, it’s only a reaffirmation of what I already know.

When I don’t play by their rules, I’m not worth anything to them.

And that’s fine.

I’m fine.

Even if I never talk to them again and remain stuck as the Smart Home girl here, I still have Misha, Grey, and Oliver, and they have me.

Life is good.

The afternoon monotony is suddenly shattered when the door to my office bursts open with a bang. The guys barrel in, their faces tense with concern and determination, scaring me so much that I jump out of my chair.

I barely have time to register what happens before I’m enveloped in a group hug, their arms wrapping around me tightly, almost squeezing the breath out of me.

“We’ll figure this out,” Grey says, words muffled against my hair.

“Don’t freak out,” Misha adds, squeezing me a bit tighter.

Oliver chimes in, his voice soft but steady, “At least we have a new clue.”

Their words are meant to be reassuring, but they only serve to heighten my concern.

“What are you even talking about?” I pull back from their embrace, and my brow furrows as I look at each of them in turn.

“She hasn’t heard yet,” Misha mutters, glancing at Grey.

“Hasn’t heard what?” I ask, pulse quickening.

In response, they simultaneously pull out their phones, holding them up for me to see. All three screens display the same headline.

Tech World in Uproar: Elysium Unveils Revolutionary AR Technology, Launch Date Coming Soon

My eyes widen as I realize what I’m looking at.

It’s my project.

Elysium has my project.

A smile spreads across my face, so wide it almost hurts.

“Amelia?” Oliver asks, concerned. But I can’t stop the giddiness bubbling up inside me.

“Fuck, she’s losing it,” Misha murmurs, earning an elbow in the ribs from Oliver. He winces but keeps his eyes on me.

“This is a good thing.” I laugh. Can’t they see it? “With Elysium having my work, we can get access, and I can prove it’s mine.”

The guys exchange glances, the skepticism clear in their eyes.

Grey looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “How?”

“Do you think you’re the only one concerned about the safety of your work?” I can’t help but feel a bit smug. My heart pounds as I explain, my words tumbling out in a rush of enthusiasm. “I embedded a signature pattern within the core computation.” I watch as understanding dawns on their faces, their skepticism melting away into something that looks a lot like pity.

“That’s good, Bug, but I don’t know if that’s going to help. The person who stole the work wouldn’t just put it out or sell it to Elysium with your marker still in there,” Misha speaks up, his brow furrowed. “They’re normally easy to erase if you know what you’re looking for, and I’m sure they did look for any copyright markers.”

Do they think I’m a noob?

“It’s not a usual marker and not visible as such. It’s a Fibonacci sequence, and if you press ‘Ctrl-Shift-A-S , ’ my copyright will appear on the screen,” I explain, hoping this hidden gem will be our ace in the hole.

They look at me, stunned, before Grey’s face lights up with pride. He lets out a triumphant laugh before pulling me in for a hard kiss. His stubble scrapes against my skin, but it’s a welcome sensation. I feel a swell of pride when he murmurs against my lips, “You’re a fucking genius.”

I must have done something right if Grey Donovan thinks I did good.

I pull back, looking into his eyes. “And that’s not the only thing that would prove it’s mine. We just need to find a way to access it, get it back, or show the CEO.” My mind is already mapping out the steps we need to take.

“We can’t just run to them if we have nothing in our hands. We would sound implausible. Who knows who sold it to them with what story? We don’t even know where they store it or who is working on it. This isn’t something we can just do. The stakes are too high,” Oliver points out, seeming frustrated.

He’s right.

This isn’t going to be easy.

But giving up isn’t an option.

Without hesitation, Grey takes off his messenger bag, pulls out his laptop, and sits down on Hendricks’ desk. “On it,” he says, his fingers already flying over the keys.

His concentration is intense, brows knitted together as he starts to hack into the company’s system. I watch him work, a mixture of awe and anxiety churning in my stomach.

Should I really let him do this for me?

“I thought we agreed on no crimes,” Misha says, his expression tinged with concern that mirrors mine.

“I only promised not to hack into the government,” Grey retorts, not looking up from his screen.

I’m sorry, what?

“Why would you want to hack into the government?” I ask, stunned.

What the hell are they doing when I’m not around?

They exchange glances before Oliver explains, “We need to figure out where Hendricks is.” There’s a hint of hesitation in his words as if he’s not sure how I’ll react.

“Okay, I get that he was your primary suspect,” I say, and I really do, even though I don’t like it. “But if Hendricks is gone, it can’t be him.”

Please, don’t let it be him.

“Maybe he sold the program and took off with the money,” Misha suggests, shrugging.

I watch as Grey’s frustration mounts, his fingers flying over the keyboard with increasing intensity. After a while, he lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t find a hint of it.”

“We should get home and work from there,” Oliver says, his worry for Grey is obvious. Now that I’m paying closer attention, there are dark circles under Grey’s eyes.

Is he not feeling well? Why haven’t I noticed before?

God, I’m such a bad girlfriend.

“Or we’ll try again tomorrow,” Misha offers. “Let’s do something chill tonight so Grey won’t get an ulcer.” His eyes flick to me, silently asking for help. I smile and nod, stepping up behind Grey. My hands find his tense shoulders, and I start to massage them. Almost immediately, I feel him relax under my touch. Misha’s voice is soft as he tells me, “Grey’s been on it night and day, trying to figure out who took from you.”

For me?

I lean in and push Grey’s hair out of the way to kiss his temple. “It’s fine,” I whisper in his ear. “It’s okay to take a day or two off. There isn’t even a release date yet. It’s not worth working yourself ragged over it.”

Grey turns in his chair to face me, his hands finding my hips and pulling me between his legs. “It is,” he insists, his eyes intense. “You’re worth everything. It’s your project of a lifetime. It will revolutionize everything. I’m so proud of you, and I won’t let anyone take that moment from you.”

He’s proud of me.

My heart swells at his words as I sit in his lap and kiss him softly. “Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “But I won’t let the stress over my work, which is only work, let you burn out. You’re way more important than that project.”

He furrows his brow, looking at me skeptically. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “All of you are way more important than any work could ever be.”

He kisses me again, sighing as he pulls away. “I haven’t been out for a walk in a while now. How about we get some fresh air?”

“It’s raining,” Oliver points out, glancing out the window.

Grey pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I should probably move my body a little. I’m fucking stiff.”

I laugh, and he grabs my hips harder, making me squirm. “Not like that, you little minx.” He growls playfully, making me giggle.

“We could go to the gym,” Oliver suggests .

“I’d rather go swimming.”

I stiffen at Grey’s words, my eyes darting to Misha, who grins knowingly. “Oh, you won’t like what you’re gonna hear now,” Misha tells Grey with amusement.

“What?” Grey looks at me, obvious confusion evident on his face.

I take a deep breath, feeling a bit sheepish. “I… can’t swim.”

Grey’s eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear into his hairline. It’s a comical sight, and I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling even more.

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t swim?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You guys have an Olympic pool in your mansion.”

“ Their mansion.” I shrug, feeling more than a little defensive. “I was so occupied with lessons in piano and school and tennis and going to church, everybody just… forgot. And I didn’t want to have to learn another thing.” I fidget with the hem of my shirt, avoiding eye contact. “Besides, it’s not like I had much free time between all those activities and trying to please my parents.”

Grey groans. The sound is so exaggerated that I look up at him. “The pity tour doesn’t count here, Princess. We’re going swimming tonight, and you’re gonna learn. I can’t stand that you’re living near water and can’t swim.”

“I’m never going to walk into the ocean if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I protest weakly, already knowing it’s a lost cause.

“I don’t care,” Grey retorts. “You could fall off a ferry or some shit with your luck.”

Misha and Oliver are chuckling in the background, clearly enjoying the show. I shoot them both a glare, which only seems to amuse them more .

“Do you at least have a swimsuit?” Grey asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I have a bikini somewhere ,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing. I rack my brain, trying to remember where I stashed it. Probably in some forgotten drawer, gathering dust. I bought it when I got here, with the idea of having a beach day.

Yeah, that so did not happen.

“Right,” Grey declares, standing and pulling me with him. His hand is warm and firm around mine, and I try to ignore the little jolt of electricity that runs through me at his touch. “Time to figure out where you have it.”

We all file out of the office, and Misha pipes up, his grin laced with mirth, “Amelia Stanley, terror of the kiddie pool.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly relishing the thought of my impending embarrassment.

“Oh, shut up,” I grumble, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. Despite my protests, there’s something oddly heartwarming about their determination to teach me.

Oliver joins in, “Maybe we should get her some floaties. You know, the ones with little duckies on them?” He mimes little duck wings with his hands, and I roll my eyes.

“I hate you all,” I mutter, but there’s no real heat behind it.

At the elevator, Grey turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, if you don’t find that bikini, we could always go skinny dipping.”

“Grey Donovan,” I exclaim, scandalized but also secretly a little thrilled at the suggestion.

The elevator reaches the ground floor, and we spill out into the lobby, making our way to the front doors, where the city noise greets us—horns honking, people chatting, the usual urban symphony.

We cross the street and enter our building before piling into the next elevator, my nerves about actually swimming making the butterflies in my stomach come to life. I know they have me and won’t let me drown, but apparently my mind and body aren’t on the same page.

“We’ll meet you back here in a bit,” Grey says as we reach my floor.

The guys head to their place to grab swimwear while I make my way to my apartment. Once inside, I rummage through my drawers until I find the white bikini. I slip it on, and pull on a pair of shorts and T-shirt over it. Then I twist my hair into a bun atop my head before grabbing a towel and heading out.

The guys are already waiting outside my door, and I can’t help but stare. They’re shirtless, wearing only their swim trunks, and they look absolutely lickable. I force my eyes away, noticing Grey has his laptop with him, and Oliver is holding a piece of paper.

“Why would we need that to go swimming?” I ask, bemused. “Want to show me tutorial videos?”

Oliver smirks. “We thought it might come in handy.”

As the elevator arrives and the doors slide open, we step inside, and my flutter of nerves mixes with excitement. Misha wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. “Ready to get wet?” he asks teasingly.

Oh God.

The warmth creeping up my cheeks tells me I’m blushing fiercely, and Misha notices, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, Bug. I like where your thoughts were just headed.”

“Very funny,” I retort, nudging him playfully.

Grey smirks. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered. If you start to flail, I promise to be right there to save you.”

“And I’ll make sure you don’t sink,” Oliver adds. “But only if you promise not to splash too much. ”

“I’ll try,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “But no promises.”

Misha’s hand slips down to hold mine, his thumb brushing over my wrist in a comforting gesture. He squeezes my hand gently as the elevator dings, and he guides me toward the pool entry.

Oliver opens the door and ushers us in before stopping to stick the paper on it. I peer at it and laugh when I see ‘ CLOSED ’ written in bold letters.

Oliver grins. “It’s rare that somebody’s here, but just to make sure.”

Misha does a quick sweep of the area and confirms we’re alone. Then Grey sits down, balancing his laptop on his knees, and starts typing. Suddenly, I hear a click. Confused, I try the door.

It’s locked.

“You guys are nuts,” I mutter.

Grey just shrugs. “Wanting to have privacy isn’t nuts. You think I swim in the same pool as some random from work?”

Oliver points out, “Random may have already swum in the pool we’re now getting in.”

“Don’t ruin it,” Grey retorts, and I shake my head at their antics.

We kick off our shoes, and Misha hollers as he cannonballs into the pool, sending a wave of water splashing over us. I can’t help but let out a loud squeal of surprise, shaking the droplets from my skin while a wide grin spreads across my face.

Oliver, looking endearingly out of place, lowers himself into the water with a slight shiver, attempting to adjust his glasses even though they’re not on his face. He catches my gaze, squinting, and I don’t know if it’s because he can’t see well or if it’s because I caught him and he’s daring me to say something. I only giggle to myself, shaking my head.

Grey, who’s been watching the whole scene with an amused smirk, finally sets his laptop aside and dives in with surprising grace. The splash that follows sends more water cascading over the edge.

I shriek again, this time more from laughter than surprise, as he surfaces with a triumphant splash. “Show-off!”

I shed my T-shirt and shorts, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me as I stand there in just my white bikini. My glasses come off next, and I carefully set them on my folded clothes. The guys’ appreciative gazes make my cheeks flush crimson, and I instinctively cover my belly with my hands.

This is the first time they see that much of me when my mind has not been in a foggy haze of lust, and my already lacking confidence is gone.

Grey’s voice cuts through my nervous thoughts, a low, teasing chide. “Ah-ah, Amelia. Show us that beautiful body. I want to see every freckle on that perfect skin.”

My cheeks burn even hotter, and I can’t help but fidget, my hands trembling slightly as I lower them. Each step toward the ladder feels like an eternity, and the sound of splashing and laughter from the guys amplifies my nerves.

Oliver, noticing my hesitation, meets me at the ladder with a reassuring smile. His hands are gentle as he helps me into the water, his touch steady and comforting under my arms. I glance around at the guys, trying to gauge their reactions and keep my nerves in check, but their warm smiles and relaxed demeanor slowly ease my anxiety.

“Put your legs around my waist,” Oliver instructs softly.

I could probably stand, but I comply willingly, wrapping my legs around him and clinging to his shoulders. The water laps at my skin, cool and inviting, and I feel surprisingly secure in his arms.

He won’t let me drown.

In the shallow water.

Grey comes to stand beside us and begins explaining swimming techniques, demonstrating strokes and breathing. I listen intently, watching his muscular form glide through the water with ease. When he finishes, he turns to me with a grin. “Your turn, Princess.”

I pout, tightening my grip on Oliver. “Can’t I just stay here?”

Oliver chuckles, the vibration rumbling through his chest. “As much as I’d love that, you should give it a try.”

“Fine.”

Grey swims over, his hands replacing Oliver’s as he supports me on my belly. “Come on, show us what you’ve learned.”

Misha pipes up from the side of the pool, “Yeah, show us your best impression of a drowning Bug!”

I splash water in his direction, laughing despite myself. “You tit!”

As I attempt to mimic Grey’s movements, Misha continues his commentary. “Surely, it helps having the longest legs, even if you don’t know how to use them.”

I giggle and shoot a mock glare his way as I kick a bit too enthusiastically. “Keep it up, and I’m nominating you as the next pool float,” I retort, causing Grey to chuckle softly while adjusting my arms. “Focus on your form, not him.”

I take a deep breath, my body relaxing in Grey’s strong hands. Starting to get the hang of it, I feel a sense of accomplishment, and when Grey takes his hands off me, and I swim over to Oliver without looking like the aforementioned drowning bug, I’m so fucking happy.

Standing a bit wobbly next to Oliver, I catch my breath and try to control the triumphant smile threatening to split my face.

Grey swims over, his grin broad and encouraging. “You did really good,” he praises. “A few more times, and you’ll be able to survive the ferry accident.”

“Thank you for showing me.” I can’t resist the wave of exhaustion mixed with relief as I step forward to hug him. My arms wrap around his neck, and I let my chin rest on his shoulder. “God, I’m tired,” I admit, my words muffled against his skin. “I think I’ll just sit on the pool edge and watch you guys. You can loosen up your muscles without me,” I say, trying to pull away, but Grey’s arms tighten around me, keeping me close.

“No, I need you right here,” he insists softly, his hands moving to my thighs, anchoring me against him.

I link my legs around his waist and let myself melt a little more against his shoulder, watching the water ripple quietly around us. Grey’s fingers begin a gentle exploration, tracing soothing lines over my skin underwater.

“How about we order some Chinese food? I could eat a horse right now,” Oliver suggests.

Misha laughs, moving to stand beside us. “Make sure to order extra spring rolls. Amelia’s swimming must’ve burned enough calories for all of us.”

Grey’s fingers pause their exploration, and when I lean back, he cradles my jaw, turning my head to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes lightly over my lips, and I let out a breath.

“Are you hungry, baby?” Grey asks, but it sounds like he’s asking for something different than food.

Bloody hell.

“Yes.”

He starts to stroke my thigh again, his fingers gliding up and down, moving a little farther up with every pass. My body turns into a taut bowstring, humming with anticipation as Grey’s fingers dance across my skin with the precision of a maestro. They come between us, and he pushes my bikini bottom to the side so his fingers can find me bare.

“Grey,” I breathe out, looking at him with wide eyes. “We’re in public.”

“We’re not,” he says, stroking me under the water, making me squirm. “The door is locked, and the cameras are off. But say the word, and I’ll stop.”

He looks at me challengingly while Misha steps up behind me, and Grey’s fingers find my clit. I let my head fall back onto Misha’s shoulder, moaning.

Fuck this is…

Exhilarating.

“Looks like food can wait a little longer,” Misha murmurs, his hands coming to cup my ass.

I’m panting, suspended between the pleasure of Grey and Misha’s touch and the reality of where we are. Grey’s fingers continue their relentless assault on my clit, each circling motion pushing me closer and closer to the brink. Misha’s hands massage my ass cheeks, his fingers teasing the edge of my bikini bottom.

The sensation of Grey’s finger slipping inside me sends a jolt of pleasure through my body, and I arch my back, pressing into his touch. Then, I feel Misha’s fingers join his, their rhythm syncing as they finger fuck me in unison.

Oh my God.

I feel so full, desperately arching even more into their touch, as Oliver’s lips find the sensitive skin of my neck, his tongue tracing a path downward to tease my nipples through the flimsy barrier of my bikini top, his teeth tugging at the fabric. The sensation of his tongue through the material sends shivers down my spine, and when he pulls the cup down to expose my nipple, the feeling of his warm mouth licking and sucking without barrier is almost too much to bear.

Misha’s lips find the sensitive skin of my neck, his teeth nipping at my earlobe, while Grey’s mouth captures mine in a searing kiss.

Their movements become quicker, more frantic, as the familiar tension coils in my stomach. They’re bringing me to the edge, the pleasure almost unbearable, and just when I think I can’t take it anymore, there’s a knock on the door.

The sound startles me, but Grey’s voice is a low growl in my ear, “Ignore it, baby. Just let go. Focus on me. Focus on us.” His words are a command and a plea, his fingers never ceasing their sweet torment.

I’m torn but their touches don’t falter, and I decide to listen to Grey, to take the pleasure they’re offering. They don’t stop, their fingers working in tandem, their mouths worshiping my body. My orgasm is building, threatening to overwhelm me.

I’m panting heavily, my heart pounding in my chest as they bring me to the brink, and just as I’m about to fall over the edge, there’s another knock on the door. But this time, I’m too far gone to care. The orgasm hits me like a wave, crashing over me as I cry out, my body shuddering with the force of it, and I’m clamping down on their fingers, making Misha and Grey curse.

The knocking persists, more demanding, but it’s a distant echo compared to the pounding of my heart and the rush of blood in my ears. The sensation of Grey and Misha withdrawing their fingers sends ripples of residual pleasure coursing through me.

I’m vaguely aware of the sound of a manual key unlocking the door.

Oliver has just enough time to pull up my bikini top, and Grey hands me over to Misha, who holds me close, his body shielding me from view when he turns us. Grey and Oliver stand in front of us, creating a barrier between me and the intruder.

Looking over Misha’s shoulder, I recognize the facility manager, whose eyes widen with surprise as he takes in the scene.

My cheeks flame with embarrassment, but Grey is already on his way out of the pool. “Thank God, someone found us. It looks like somebody played a prank on us and locked us in.”

Misha chuckles in my ear, whispering, “Grey Donovan could lie his way out of the Pentagon.”

I watch Grey talk some more, but I can’t make out what he says. The man sputters an apology, his face a mask of mortification, before retreating hastily. When he’s gone, I release a breath, the laughter that bubbles up from within me a mixture of relief and lingering adrenaline.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Misha carries me over to the ladder, and Oliver is already waiting for me to climb out of the pool. He puts my glasses on my nose before holding my towel open for me, gently drying me and enveloping me in a warm hug as I step into it. Only once I’m wrapped up, Oliver kisses my nose, then grabs his towel and quickly dries off.

We gather our belongings, slip on our shoes, and head toward the elevator. The cool air of the hallway raises goose bumps on my damp skin, and I find myself gravitating toward Misha’s warmth as we step into the elevator. I lean against him, closing my eyes and letting out a contented sigh as he wraps an arm around me, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head.

“Tired, Bug?” he asks, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

I nod, feeling the exhaustion of the day settling into my bones. The excitement and pleasure from earlier have left me pleasantly drained, every muscle in my body relaxing into a state of blissful fatigue.

Grey’s voice cuts through my drowsy haze. “You should come up to our place. You can take a shower, borrow some clothes, and we’ll order Chinese. Just chill out for the evening.”

I crack open an eye, peering at Grey. “Are you chill?” I ask, a hint of concern lacing my tone.

We did this to make him relax, not bliss me out.

A smile spreads across his face, softer than his usual smirk. “More than chill,” he assures me.

“Good. Then yes, please.” I reach out, taking Grey’s hand in mine, then grasp Oliver’s with my other.

Nestled between them as the elevator ascends, I realize that the beta test might have just ended.

I think I’m ready to launch this relationship.