There's a man in a suit, and he's trying to get me.

He chases me around the building because I have the information he needs.

I run and tuck myself in a darkened alley corner to get away.

He swiftly moves past my position and doesn't find me.

I breathe out a sigh of relief, but I know this is not over.

They'll find me eventually.

My heart pounds with fear.

And then I wake up.

A cold sweat covers my body.

It was just a nightmare. My body is frozen in fear, and yet I feel his arms around me. His strong arms encompass every part of me, and I oddly feel safe.

Warmth rises to my cheeks again, and I feel flushed, full of life.

The nightmare fades, but the meaning doesn't. I will have to answer to the FBI at some point. And it could mean jail for me, for Braden, and for everyone. What will I do?

The impossible choice looms its heady shadow over me once again. I can't do this anymore. I have to do something one way or another. Either I tell Braden what's going on, or I get the information I need.

I can't live in limbo anymore.

For a moment, I let myself relax into the fact that Braden's body surrounds my own and that together, we make a cozy nest in his large bed. The grey sheets and duvet cover us and keep us warm. Not a shade of light enters the room as he has the automatic blinds drawn shut. It's black in here.

I feel his chest rising and falling. I listen to his breathing. He's all I want, all I've ever wanted.

I have no idea what time it is because of the darkness surrounding me. I reach for my watch ever so gently on the night table. It's 5:30 AM, my usual waking hour.

Images from last night cross my mind. The balcony, the stairwell...it was magical.

We fucked several times more in this bed. It's like he couldn't get enough of me, nor I him. There's this pull between us, this ravenous desire to be together―and last night finally fulfilled some of that wantonness.

While I feel like it means that something more is growing between us, and while I feel more intimate with him, I'm also unsure about the future. Nothing can be decided as of now.

Braden may not be a one-woman kind of guy. I have yet to determine that. But my feelings haven't changed; they only grow deeper every second that I'm around him.

I've never let someone penetrate my soul the way I’ve let him in. I hope I'm not opening up too far too fast.

Though I could stay here, curled up with him forever, I recognize the fact that this could be my one opportunity to make a move towards finding the information I need.

I'm sad to leave the warm bed and the feeling of his arms around me, but slowly I extricate myself from his grasp. I am ever so careful not to wake my sleeping man. He's so hot, even when he’s in dreamland.

I place one foot on the floor and then the other. It's freezing in here, and I'm naked.

I seek around in the dark for my dress, or better yet, a sheet, just something to wrap myself up in. My cum-stained dress from last night will not do.

I go to his master bathroom and into his closet where I find all manner of cashmere sweaters. I pull on a heather grey one and a pair of his sweats. Warm at last.

Then I splash some water on my face and once again judge my own eyes, wondering if I'm the type of person who could do something like this. Can I betray the person I'm growing to care about? Can I betray the rest of the league just to save myself and my team?

The answer evades me, and I look away from myself in disgust. I'm used to having a stronger moral compass than this. Usually, I know exactly which way to turn.

This could be either my undoing or his. I have to decide soon.

I tiptoe around his room and leave to sleep, hopefully dreaming for me and not having nightmares like I had.

I walk the length of the hall and admire his place in the very early light of day. The guy really has good taste.

In the kitchen, I quietly find a glass and pour some orange juice. I make an espresso out of the machine in the wall, and that's enough to get me going, to clear my foggy mind from everything that happened last night.

It's time. No more stalling. I have to seek some information about the technology he's developing.

A part of me hopes that it's so well hidden, I won't be able to find it and then that'll be my answer.

I find his office in the palatial pad. It's a book-lined room, chic and modern as ever. His desk is right there in front of me, the essential Promised Land.

I can do this.

I don't have to do anything with the information. I can keep it under wraps, and no one has to know I have it. But this is my only chance to get it. So until I make my decision, I at least need to know that I have what the FBI wants.

Maybe somehow I can leverage myself out of this. Make a deal for Braden.

Or maybe I can replicate his technology and take the blame for him. I don't know. But there has to be a way.

For now, I sort through his desk looking for my answer. I'm curious to know his secret. I've been wondering for ages what he's implemented to make his car go so fast.

I wish this was a personal mission of uncovering knowledge, but unfortunately, it might be a government one.

I rifle through all the paperwork. For such a tidy guy, his desk is a mess. I sort through the drawers of his desk and find that one of them has a lock on it but it's open. He didn't bother to lock, probably thinking his information was at least safe in his own penthouse.

And now I feel worse than ever, because I know before I even look that the information I need is in there. I feel so bad for doing this to Braden that I almost want to turn away, but to back out now would mean that I no longer have a choice in what to do.

I've got to get the information to at least hold my options open.

I open the drawer though my head pounds. Then I see the blueprints. I pull them out and spread them across the desk.

It's all here in front of me. Oh, my God, I see how he's done it. He's using an afterburner technology that is out of this world. I never expected he's be tuned into this kind of thing.

What he's doing is highly illegal, and it makes sense now that the FBI would want him locked up for it. But I can tell by the plans that Braden's also on the cusp of something new, and that the FBI will also want this information to use for their own engines. They probably need a person as much of a genius as Braden on their side.

He's accessed a far greater breadth of knowledge than they were aware of. Maybe he refused to give it to them or refused to work for them? I don't know, but looking at the plans makes it all apparent as to why Braden's in so much trouble.

They probably want these blueprints more than anything. More than putting him or the other crew members behind bars, they want the info.

In a way, I'm jealous that it was he and not I that came up with this. Why did I not think to use afterburning to increase the thrust? It's so obvious to me now, but technically speaking, it’s hard to achieve.

I admire Braden. He really is the smartest guy I know, and that is so, so sexy.

I take the blueprints and fold them up. I'm going to need to sneak these out of here.

I remember dropping my Louis Vuitton purse by the door, so I quietly leave the office, making sure everything is left as it was. Then I go down the hall to the front door where I tuck the papers into my purse.

Hopefully, now I'll have time to crawl back into bed with Braden, and he'll never have noticed that I left.

It's so early in the morning, and yet I know he loves to get an early start, too, so I better hurry.

Just as I turn around to join him back in bed, I see his large frame leaning against the frame of the door that leads to the foray.

"What are you doing, Jenna?" he asks with dark eyes.

Damn. I've been caught.