My Infinite Investment System

Pink current climbed Mika’s ribs while the dead regulator reflected her face in its black screen.

Ryan caught her shoulder before her balance failed, then moved her hand onto the contact pad and said, "Keep pressure here."

Mika’s fingers curled over his as she forced out, "Power would improve the experience."

He released her once she held the pad alone.

The side door jumped in its frame, metal scraping concrete on the other side.

He went still as every joke left the room, then held her gaze and said, "Stay on the bench, keep the lower contact down, call if it reaches your neck."

She watched his face change before she answered, "Where are you going?"

He lifted the regulator cable and answered, "Breaker."

He took the regulator cable and followed it into the corridor, using his phone light when the emergency strips failed to appear.

The old club smelled stronger in darkness, spilled liquor trapped beneath flooring, wet plaster, ozone coming sharp from the service hall.

Another impact bent the side door inward.

Two shadows moved beneath it, one holding a bolt cutter wide enough for the building’s main cable.

The supervisor had been paid.

Somebody above him still wanted the machine dead.

Ryan found the breaker cabinet behind a stack of bar stools, its lock already cut and the regulator circuit pulled from the rail.

The active investment spread gold across the dead wiring, where most routes ended at the missing breaker but one continued toward the bar.

He followed it through the wall, shoulder striking shelving when the side door took another hit.

Her voice carried from the service hall without humor as she called, "Ryan."

He pressed one palm to the wall and shouted back, "Neck?"

Her strained answer reached him, "Shoulder."

He leaned toward the corridor and ordered, "Hold it there."

The bar-light power module sat beneath the old DJ platform, built to keep emergency strips alive during outages.

It was not designed for medical equipment.

It was designed for one hundred meters of pink lighting, which felt close enough to divine intent.

Ryan tore the strawberry tape with his teeth, stripped the regulator cable against the cutter in Mika’s repair kit, then bound its copper to the module output.

The side door split near the latch, a gloved hand reached through, and he switched the module on.

Every surviving light in Northstar flashed hot pink.

The regulator screamed awake, and Mika cried out behind him with one broken sound cut short by clenched teeth.

He ran back to find pink current covering her left arm, shoulder, and ribs in branching lines bright enough to show bone beneath skin.

Ryan dropped beside the bench, checked the screen, then lowered the output before the route burned wider.

He cupped the side of her face without touching the live route and said, "Look at me."

Her eyes found his through wet lower lashes.

He pointed along her forearm and said, "Current is moving toward your wrist, let it go there."

Her wet lashes narrowed as she forced out, "Very easy sentence from that side of the machine."

He adjusted the output another notch and said, "Save the review."

The side door burst open.

One of the recovery workers stepped through with the bolt cutter, rain shining across his hood while his gaze locked on the powered regulator.

Ryan turned toward him, planted himself between the weapon and the bench, and said, "Leave."

The man looked past him at Mika, saw the current moving under her skin, then raised the steel jaws.

Mika lifted her left hand.

Lightning crossed the room in a single pink line.

It struck the tool, tore it from his grip, and buried both steel handles in the wall.

The worker stared at his empty hands while Mika held her smoking fingers level and told him, "He said leave," her voice shaking while her aim remained steady.

The man left.

Ryan kicked the damaged door shut, dragged a shelving unit across it, then returned to the bench without wasting a word.

The regulator’s route display had turned green.

He placed two fingers beneath her wrist and said, "Again, smaller this time."

Mika sent a thread of lightning between her fingers.

The current reached her wrist, followed the new route through the regulator, then returned to her chest without breaking apart.

Her whole body loosened at once.

Ryan caught her around the waist before she slid from the bench.

For several seconds, she stayed against him with her forehead under his chin and one fist closed in the back of his shirt.

The room held hot dust, ozone, rain, and the citrus smell rising from her skin.

His heart would not slow.

Hers struck hard against his ribs.

He felt her pulse settle beneath his fingers and said, "Pathway held," hearing the roughness in his own voice.

Mika exhaled against his collar, stayed there for one unguarded second, then lifted her face.

Her eyes moved from his mouth to the bent door.

She glanced at his mouth before teasing, "You told him to leave like you owned the building."

His hand tightened once at her waist as he replied, "He had a bolt cutter."

Her eyes warmed while she murmured, "Terrifying counterargument."

Ryan checked the dark marks along her ribs, which had stopped spreading.

He followed the fading route beneath her compression top and asked, "Pain?"

She flexed her left hand before answering, "Three."

His stare remained on the stubborn line at her ribs as he said, "Real number."

Her mouth twitched while she corrected herself, "Four, maybe five when you make that voice."

He finally looked up and asked, "What voice?"

Her hand rose from his shirt and touched the side of his throat.

Her thumb settled over his pulse as she whispered, "That one."

Ryan looked at her mouth, a small and obvious movement that became impossible to retrieve once Mika saw it.

Her private smile began crooked, reached her eyes, then disappeared when she leaned in.

The first contact missed the center of his mouth.

Her upper lip caught his, his nose brushed her cheek, then both of them adjusted at once and the kiss landed properly.

She tasted like strawberry electrolyte water and the metallic edge of current.

Ryan kept one hand at her waist while the other hovered beside her face, waiting until she caught his wrist and placed his palm against her jaw.

Mika kissed him harder.

The bench shifted beneath her as she opened her knees around his hips, pulling him close enough for the erection inside his trousers to press against her.

She felt it and made a quiet, hungry sound into his mouth.

Her thumb crossed his lower lip when she pulled back, and she said, "Equipment office."

Ryan looked toward the damaged side door and judged, "The shelf buys us five minutes."

She caught the end of his tie around two fingers and said, "I only need four."

His gaze dropped to her hand as he replied, "That confidence feels medically irresponsible."

Mika caught his tie and walked backward into the narrow office, eyes fixed on his while the regulator lead stretched behind her.

She unhooked it at the portable connector, leaving the skin contacts in place, then closed the office door.

The lock clicked.

Boxes of receipt paper filled one wall, while a dented metal cabinet left barely enough space for two people to stand.

Mika pressed him against it and kissed him until the cabinet doors rattled.

Her hand moved down his stomach, found him through his trousers, then closed around the hard length beneath the fabric.

His hips pushed into her palm before he could stop them, and her mouth curved against his as she asked, "Still professional?"

He answered against her lips, "No."

The answer erased her teasing for half a beat.

Mika watched his face while she opened his belt, the buckle striking the cabinet with a bright metal click.

She lowered the zipper and reached inside his briefs.

Her fingers wrapped around his cock, warm at the base and slick near the tip.

Ryan’s head touched the cabinet as her name left him rougher than he intended, "Mika."

Her eyes lifted to his while her fist moved once from base to tip, and she said, "Tell me what you want."

His careful answer died before it reached his mouth.

His fingers flexed against the cabinet before he answered, "Your mouth."

Color rose beneath her cheekbones.

She lowered herself onto one knee without releasing him, the movement pulling her jacket open around the black compression top.

Ryan looked down.

His cock rested against her closed fingers, hard enough to twitch when her thumb spread the wetness over the head.

Mika’s chin stayed level while she examined him, no camera expression available in the cramped office, then she pressed one kiss beneath the head.

The restraint hurt worse than contact.

Ryan gripped the cabinet edge hard enough for the thin metal to flex beneath his fingers.

Her tongue traced the underside in one slow pass, then her lips closed around the tip.

Heat knotted low in his stomach.

Mika took him deeper by inches, one hand moving along what her mouth had not covered while the other rested on his thigh for balance.

A trapped "Mmf" hummed from her nose, tightening every muscle below his waist.

Her cheeks drew inward as she pulled back, leaving a shining line of spit between her lower lip and his cock.

Ryan lost the cabinet handle, found it again, then forced his hips to remain still.

Mika noticed the effort.

She raised her eyes without lifting her head, chin tucked slightly, lower lids tight from the angle while one eyebrow moved with deliberate challenge.

The look made his hand open beside her hair, so she took his wrist and placed his palm against the back of her head.

Permission tightened his chest as he gathered her rough waves without pushing and said, "You looked at me like that on purpose."

Mika answered by taking him deeper.

His cock pressed over her tongue toward the back of her throat, her lips tightening around the shaft while a wet "Mnhk" broke in the room.

Her fingers dug into his thigh before she pulled off, breathing through her nose as saliva shone across her lips.

His thumb moved once against her scalp as he said, "You don’t have to prove anything."

Mika’s expression changed.

The challenge softened, then returned with less performance and more hunger.

She held his gaze, steadier now, and said, "I know," before opening her mouth again.

This time she chose a pace without watching him, eyes closed while she worked him with mouth and hand together.

Her tongue pressed against the sensitive underside on every upward motion.

Ryan’s control broke in pieces, first his breathing, then the hand braced beside her, then the careful stillness of his hips.

He moved once into her mouth, and Mika caught the rhythm by tightening her grip at the base, keeping the next thrust shallow enough to control.

The cabinet knocked softly behind him as his warning came rough, "I’m close."

She opened her eyes, released the base, then took him deeper until her nose brushed the hair above his cock.

The sound in her throat fractured, and Ryan started to cum before he could say her name again, his cock pulsing over her tongue as the first release filled her mouth.

The next caught the corner of her lips when she pulled back for air.

Mika kept one hand around him through the final twitch, eyes lowered to what she was doing rather than performing the moment for him.

She swallowed, then wiped the spill from her lip with her thumb.

Ryan’s knees nearly folded when the last pulse left him.

Mika stood before he could recover, her shoulder brushing his chest in the narrow space.

He reached for her waist, but she caught his hand before it touched her.

For one second, he thought she would place it where she wanted, but she folded his fingers around his belt and said, "The regulator needs monitoring."

The private smile had vanished.

Ryan fastened his trousers while she unlocked the door, every ordinary movement suddenly louder than the sex had been.

They spent the remaining night beside the regulator.

Mika spoke when the voltage changed, when she needed water, and when the damaged side door shifted in the wind.

She never mentioned the office.

At sunrise, grey light entered through the empty screen mounts while she disconnected the lower contact herself.

She took the jacket from him without touching his hand and said, "Mr. Keller, the city inspector arrives in two hours, you can use the office until then."

She walked toward the front room with the regulator held against her ribs.