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  Flawed Temptation

  Celia Crown

  Copyright © 2019 by Celia Crown

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are from the author's imagination or folklore, legends, and general myths.

  The book or any portion of the book may not be reproduced or used under any circumstances, except with the written permission from the author. Public names, movies, televisions, and locales, or any references are used for atmospheric purposes. Any similarities and resemblances to alive or dead people, events, brands, and locales are all complete coincidences.

  For inquiries: [email protected]

  Cover Editor: Designrans

  Contents

  Copyright

  Flawed Temptation

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Author’s other works!

  Follow the Author

  Flawed Temptation

  by Celia Crown

  Camille

  I like weekends; waking up to a beautiful morning, watch a couple of movies at home, and order food in to finish off the peaceful day. That’s the type of weekends that I want, not being dragged into a meeting with a group of the scariest people I have ever have the unfortunate chance of meeting.

  One of them is CIA Mark Hansen, the Director of Security.

  Seriously, who can wear a suit over that massively hard body? It’s surprising that the stitches haven’t come off yet, but honestly speaking, I wouldn’t mind having a glance at the rippling muscles under them.

  He voluntarily chooses to watch over me; either he doesn’t trust a hacker, alleged hacker, to work with him or that the hunger lingering in his eyes whenever he looks at me.

  And he stares a lot.

  Mark

  In my career in the CIA, I have seen everything; corruption leading to deaths, lies buried underlies, and everyone has their own agenda. I work them, but I don’t trust anyone other than myself.

  One wrong move and there will be dire consequences that would cripple this nation.

  The aftermath of a terrorist attack from the infiltration of the CIA left the country in scrambles to race with time before the next wave of attacks happens. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and a calling the notorious hacker ‘Grey’ for help is not the worst option.

  Then the former Director of my unit comes in with a tiny girl in a panda mascot head. He was the only person I trusted in this place before he retired, and I shouldn’t be surprised that he can get the worst hacker ever happened in history to fix this national security breach.

  One look, one smile; I knew I’d fall.

  Her soft little body tempts me with every piece of thin clothing, showing off that flawless skin.

  I’m not above using my authority to manipulate her.

  This precious little gem is mine.

  Chapter One

  Camille

  Loose cotton shirt, little booty shorts, and knee-high socks. It’s the best combination to wear at the comfort of my own home, no one can judge me for the need to keep some warmth on my toes when summer nights can be chilly.

  I’m on the fifth episode of this new television drama that puts me on the edge because the heroine just wouldn’t acknowledge the love from the second love interest. I’m not the biggest fan of the main love interest because he gives me this weird vibe, he’s too nice for my taste.

  I like men who are a little rougher on the edges and with more muscles. It’s a personal preference that I pick up on when I choose movies to watch, it’s something about the primal and raw power that leaks from the men who have that savage and animalistic trait in their characters.

  Truly, nice guys finish last. I’m not sorry that I’m feeding on that spectacle, but I can’t help to who I am attracted to.

  Expecting today to be a nice and easy night, I had ordered food and a nice cup of warm milk with dessert when the doorbell rings.

  Not answering would be the best. They could be a serial killer for all I know and I’m not going to open it to find out otherwise. When I don’t hear another knock, I assume they went away instead of bothering innocent residents.

  It’s too late to be sales representatives trying to sell me a membership to their church to prove my love to Jesus. I have had some who won’t take no for an answer and I shut the door to their face. I’m usually very patient and kind because they’re just doing their jobs and meeting quotas but at some point, I have been asked to buy three vacuums.

  I hear the door open and my back straightens in panic, flying out the couch and almost falling on my face when the blanket tangles in my legs. Frantically searching for a weapon to use on the burglar, I pick up the plastic fork from my food and point it at the intruder.

  There stands a man with neatly combed blond-hair, deep brown eyes, and a clean suit showing the lean cut of his body. I narrow my eyes at him and lower my fork, the key in his hand is the key that I had ‘lost’ some days ago and had to get it replaced.

  Not only is he the former CIA Director, but he’s also a thief.

  “A fork,” he comments blandly.

  I huff and grouchily glare at him. “I would’ve thrown food at you if I didn’t cherish them.”

  “Come, we have to go.”

  Matt nudges his head to the open door and I shake my head at him. Whatever he has in mind shouldn’t have me going outside at ten in the evening with so little clothing.

  “Why?” I squint my eyes.

  The smile on his face is scarily intimidating, it’s challenging me to decline is a generous offer of not kidnapping me to whatever blacked-out location. I heard rumors about the CIA working outside of the law to find threats in their agency and whenever they locate one, that person always disappears without a trace.

  I have a low pain tolerance.

  “We have work to do.” Matt walks up to me with his dirty shoes in my home.

  How dare this man forget his manners.

  “I don’t want to go with you.” I stubbornly pout, crossing my arms over my ribs.

  “It’s Sunday, and these episodes aren’t going to watch themselves. I need to stay here and be with them or they will get lonely.”

  Matt slips pass me and around the kitchen to get the big panda mascot head under his arm. He takes the spare hair ties from a little bowl on the kitchen counter around his fingers. Dropping the head onto the couch, he tugs my hair into a crooked bun and it hurts with his long fingers yanking through my knots.

  “Ow!” I whine, “Be gentle, Mattie!”

  While I paw at his rough treatment, he goes down to pick up the panda head and slide my vision into the darkened space. The eyehole is perfect for me to see a hazed world as the mesh material that makes the eyes is also dark.

  I only wear this when I have to meet with other alleged hackers, unsavory characters who need my service, or in this case, wherever he is taking me.

  My identity is the biggest secret I have, even Matt doesn’t know my name.

  He guides me out the door with my lost key in his pocket and locking the door behind me with one swing.

  The cold nips my bare skin and sometimes I hate being associated with Matt, for several reasons; he’s former CIA, a man who doesn’t listen, and he does everything against my wishes.

  I blame my kind heart for saving this man when he was on the brink of death and I had to hack int
o his phone to call for his reinforcement to save him after I saw him bleeding on the ground of a freaking video game store.

  Somehow, he realizes that I was Grey through the way I hacked and that he remembers my face. Now, I’m his on-and-off hacker at disposal. He didn’t give me a choice in the matter because he will turn me in for criminal charges, and he said my tender skin would be marred in prison.

  I don’t know if it’s prison time or the way he described me as a meal to Hannibal Lecter scared me more.

  Over time, I got to know him as the man who isn’t the Director of Security in the CIA, but as the man who loves classical music. Not my style, but he likes to listen to plays too and I can’t for the life of me understand any word that comes out of old dramas.

  It’s like listening to a new language or learning Spanish all over again in high school.

  I just graduated, and I don’t want to relive that final exam ever again.

  The written exam was alright, nothing too terrible, but then the oral exam took me by surprise and I was not prepared. I pulled something off and passed the high standard of my Spanish teacher.

  I was still in school when Mattie caught me, and that was two years ago. I found out my skill in computers when I was doing my school work in freshman year at the library, messing around the system to avoid doing the homework got me interested in the uniqueness of the world of zeros and ones.

  When I like something, I learn quickly and it’s how I ‘allegedly’ hacked into the school to change my grades for physical education.

  I can’t run to save my life. My lungs are not meant to be used for anything other than breathing slowly.

  My skills grow with my need to understand the insane amount of information, I can do many things with my knowledge of the dark web and Mattie knows this. He uses my skill to their fullest when he needs help, there are times where the analysis in the CIA doesn’t know how or can’t legally do something, he comes to me to get the things done.

  No one knows about this working relationship. Mattie keeps this as one of his deepest secrets as a way to protect me and it’s a way to take down the biggest enemies of the United States with my hidden identity as I can hack without people knowing specifically it was me when I change my tactics and my codes.

  I have many different codes that I use whenever I do illegal things, so nothing can be traced back to me.

  “Uh, Mattie?” my muffled voice comes through the panda head as we drive down the street to the large building.

  “Don’t say a word and don’t take the headpiece off.” Matt’s car stops at the gate, we’re being screened through security camera and verified by the guard at the gate.

  Matt has more juice in the CIA even when he is retired, and I wonder if anyone can really be retired from the agency full of secrets. CIA is a place I don’t want to understand, it’s too much of politics and national security. I go on the computer for fun, just browsing the web for funny things and when people contact me for work, I don’t do anything that would be foreseeable harm to others.

  However, I can't control those who buy my service use my information to do harm.

  Whatever they do is out of my hands, I am not responsible for what they do with the information I give them. I try to think of the things they would do with the knowledge I give them as some people ask me for information on things, but sometimes people are creative in their crimes.

  I learn to not take them to heart when it causes harms to others because of the way I make a living has this type of risk.

  Working in a legal job would be a hindrance because I like my freedom to browse on the dark web. It’s not just weapons sales, hiring assassins, and human trafficking. There are details of the dark web itself that is intriguing on its own, the makeup of the anonymity around criminals is absurdly interesting. Nothing can be traced back to them, but if anyone with half a brain would know that there is always a way to get to the person on the other side of the screen.

  I have been trying to break the anonymity.

  It’s a challenge that I want to conquer.

  We go into a basement-type of parking lot and it’s freakishly dark. Goosebumps hit my skin as Matt leaves the car to come over to my side, he takes my arm and pulls me out when I stubbornly refuse.

  One, it’s so cold in the lot and two, this is that this is basically kidnapping since I did not want to be here. I’m going to be a very reluctant prisoner, he will have to deal with my silent treatment.

  He brought this upon himself since he did take away my night of peace with my television drama episodes and half-eaten food. I didn’t get to eat my dessert or drink that warm cup of milk either.

  The warmness would be swooshing in my tummy if he didn’t help himself into my home.

  “Cease your sulking, you’re being a child.” Matt push the button of the elevator when he stepped in.

  A whirring noise comes on as we ascend to the top floor that needed a key for access.

  “I am a child,” I mumble under my breath just in case he smacks me upside the head.

  He does anyway. I wince at the pain; his palm had collided with the cushioned headpiece, but the impact still hurts as I know he put more power in that hit than he does normally for me to feel some pain.

  “Are you going to hit your future children too?” I ask grumpily.

  Matt is smooth and slick like the hidden politician in him, “I already have you.”

  My heartbeat picks up, turning to see him through the eyeholes with a wide smile splitting on my lips. “Really? I’m your daughter?”

  “A monkey daughter,” he affirms.

  I gasp, offended.

  “Send me to the zoo,” I demand him with hands on my hips as the elevator takes us up another level.

  “I refuse to allow myself to be associated with someone sleeping with a Panthera Leo. My reputation cannot be faulted with foolishness.” Matt takes hold of my hand as we get closer to the number indicated on the elevator.

  “A what?” I ask, and why does he have to be so professional when it’s just the two of us.

  “Lion.”

  Oh. I nod quietly and stay silent while I wish there is some melody. I thought elevators have some kind of music going on, most likely Muzak.

  The door opens, and I am bombarded with the view of looking down a flight of stairs where there are desks with people typing on computers, many of them are running around to one side to another with files in their arms.

  Matt leads me down the stairs, getting odd looks from employees of the CIA. I debate if I should close my eyes in case I see something I’m not supposed to see, and I get interrogated for all the information I saw.

  I can’t tell them things I don’t know.

  Better safe than sorry, I shut my eyes tightly.

  Matt pulls me towards another flight of stairs on the opposite side of the elevator, I assume it’s the office to the current Director. Tripping on the first step, I almost run head first on the other steps. He hauls me up with my puny arm and I peer at him through the eyeholes, he can’t see my sheepish smile, but I know he can feel it.

  No one stops him from going up the stairs with a girl in a panda mascot head, I think they’re too frightened to go against him.

  I’m not scared because I know Matt won’t let the CIA sink their fingers in me. I’m too valuable for him to just willy-nilly give up custody of me.

  I didn’t know what to expect when he opens the door to greet the person inside, maybe an older white gentleman since that’s what all government crime movies have shown me.

  I am very wrong.

  Clean black dress shirt curled up on the elbows, revealing a sleeve of dark tattoos on one arm and the other has a long scar running across his forearm. Wide chest and broad shoulders, big hands, sharp stubbly jawline and a set of dark glaring eyes.

  “Who the fuck is that.”

  O-okay. Scary.

  Chapter Two

  Mark

  The girl is tiny.

&nb
sp; Nothing about her stands out, yet everything about her gets my undivided attention.

  From that creamy skin under a pair of shorts, little arms hugging my former boss’ arm like her life depends on it. The headpiece covering her identity is not the most peculiar part of her entire attire, she has a pair of hideous orange knee-high socks and fucking bright pink slippers.

  Her image is a hazard to anyone who lays an eye on her; colors clash, a funny type of fashion and the most annoying pair of black eyes from the panda staring at me.

  “We need privacy.” Matt pushes the girl down on the chair at the meeting table, away from my work desk.

  I press a button under my desk and my office is on lockdown mode; the windows have reinforced metals running down to block the view on the people below us, a running interference of any electronics, and a firmly locked door to seal the office from the outside world.

  Matt takes a seat right next to the girl and goes for the mascot head, she slaps his hand away and shakes her head vehemently.

  “Do not be difficult,” Matt scolds, but the girl smacks his hand away again.

  The girl turns her head away and I can almost hear the huff from her when her perky tits bounce, I take the seat at the head of the table to avoid them seeing my cock giving an interested jerk.

  This is the first time I have reacted like this; ever since I have taken the job at the CIA, I haven’t been interested in sex anymore when I’m too busy protecting this country. I was never interested in anyone, just one or two high school flings and that was ages ago.

  It’s a wonder how I didn’t explode of blue balls yet, and even the dubbed ‘sexiest woman’ in this agency doesn’t incite this reaction from me. The quickest relief I get is my hands, and they do just fine under the enormous pressure I am in since the attack on the United States’ soils.

  “We will be discussing important matters, I prefer we are on the same page. He won’t do anything to you, you have my word.” Matt assures the skittish girl whose hands are pinching the chair’s handles to get ready to bolt.