When my tea has steeped, I bring the pot to my coffee table, pull up Norah Jones on my phone, plug it into the speaker dock, and settle into the couch. The second my fingers touch the soft yarn, I can feel my heartbeat slow. I breathe in through my nose and let out a long slow breath, determined to shed Stockton and find my center. I succeed. For about five minutes, until my mellow is interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.
I don't bother looking through the peephole because there's only one person it can be at this hour on a Friday night. "What do you want?" I ask when I swing open the door.
Stockton's lost his tie since I left him at the Green Lady. "Can I come in?"
"No." I guess I'm not as calm as I believed.
His eyes glint with dangerous determination and I hate that my skin comes alive under his gaze. Anticipation whips through me, driving my heart into my throat.
He steps into my space, anchoring his hand at the back of my neck, and god help me, I lean in. His mouth, when it lands on mine, is alternately ferocious and demanding then soft and coaxing. I melt into him with a little moan, sliding my tongue against his and relishing the buzz of arousal running through my veins. I go on tiptoe as I wrap an arm around his massive shoulders, my other hand clutches his lapel. His hand lands at my waist, pushing up my tee to expose my skin. My nipples pull tight, my clit throbs. I've gone from zero to ninety in under four seconds and I have no shame. I don't care how wrong this is, or how much I'll regret it later, but I'll take anything Stockton gives and return it tenfold. He slides his fingers up my ribs to flirt with the underside of my breast. I'm on fire.
When he pulls away, his breathing is as ragged and harsh as my own, and the fire in his eyes has only intensified. "That," he says between deep pulls of air. "Was all me. And what I should have done two years ago. Goodnight, Penny."
He spins and disappears around the corner before my brain pulls out of its sex-crazed stupor long enough to form a reply.
Chapter Eight
Stockton
Two Years Earlier
"Penny," I yell into the front office. My girlfriend Lena is going to be here in ten minutes and I've spent all afternoon debugging code in a security patch we're supposed to deploy at midnight. Cameron and Drake are both out sick, and every time Penny probes the defenses, she finds more vulnerabilities. And my suit should have been delivered by the dry cleaners an hour-and-a-half ago. This day can go fuck itself. "Penny."
The second coming could have taken place in the time it takes Penny to appear in the doorway looking wide-eyed and innocent as she slowly waves her hands back and forth, fingers spread wide.
"Where the hell is my suit, and what in the hell is wrong with your hands?"
She cracks her gum, and waves her hands a few more times before answering. "Don't know, it wasn't my turn to babysit it. And it helps the polish dry."
"I'm not paying you to polish your nails."
"You're not paying me to keep tabs on your dry cleaning either," she points out. "Besides, I already got through the fifth round of testing. Vulnerability is still there."
"Where?" I growl.
"All it takes is a simple command line to start unraveling the password sequences. It's easier than playing Mario Cart."
I slap the palm of my hand on the desk with a curse and push to standing, pacing in front of the bank of windows. I check my watch. "How much longer?" Lena won't tolerate another broken date. Not after the week we've had. I like her. Really like her, and we've been together more than six months now, which has to mean something. My mother's so hopeful she's already hinted at giving me the engagement ring my father gave her. I'm not ready yet. Hell, I don't even know if I love her. But... maybe it's the best I can hope for given my life.
"Do you mean how much longer are you going to beat your head against a brick wall?" She gently taps her fingernails with the pad of her fingers, testing for tackiness. "I told you what I think you should do."
"That's going to take days to set up. We're supposed to deploy at midnight."
She turns around. "Suit yourself," she tosses over her shoulder.
I bite back a groan of frustration. I've never met so much brilliance and sass wrapped up in one human. And this afternoon, when I'm in a hurry, it irritates the shit out of me that she's right. I call down to Hector. "Scrap everything. When you have a sec, come up to the office and I'll have Penny walk you through what she thinks we should be doing." I check my watch again. Five minutes, and I'm not even ready. Where in the hell is my suit? "Penny," I roar, knowing that she'll ignore me.
I stalk around my desk, through the doorway and into the outer office where she works. I'm risking her wrath by asking, but I'm in a bind. I can't afford to be gone from my desk when Lena arrives.
"Do me a favor? Run down to the dry cleaners and see if my suit's ready?"
She laughs.
Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me and she fucking laughs. And I hate that the musical sound of it pulls my insides tight.
"I don't think so, Sir." She knows I hate it when she calls me that, but she has no idea it's because the way she says the word sends me to a filthy place no boss, especially no older boss should go. "You are welcome to walk down to the dry cleaners and get your own suit. Or-" She pauses for effect, mouth curling into a sly smile because she knows she's got me over a barrel. "You can pay me a hideous amount of money to do it for you."
"I don't have time for your blackmail today."
She looks like the Cheshire cat. "I think you're confused about what blackmail is, Sir. I'm merely asking to be compensated for activities outside my job description."
"At an unreasonable price," I grit.
She bites her lip and looks around the office. "Oh. Well, if you think you can find someone cheaper," her voice trails away and she turns back to her laptop.
"Fine." I reach for my wallet. "How much today?"
She looks at the ceiling. "Three hundred should do it."
"Three hundred?"
She laughs again, clearly delighted at her ability to poke the bear. But she knows I'll pay it because if I'm not here when Lena shows up, we're through. She's made that very clear. We might already be through, but at least I can try and salvage it.
I pull out three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and hand them over.
Penny makes a point of licking her thumb and slowly counting out the bills before shoving them in her back pocket and giving me a salute. "See you in ten?"
Ten minutes will be too long for Lena's satisfaction, but I'll do my best to ignore the coding crisis looming over me and pour on the charm. It's not Lena's fault that everything went to shit today.
I step into the bedroom just off my office and pull a clean, starched shirt out of the closet. All of the C-floor offices have bedrooms with full baths attached. Sleeping and being able to clean up here is a necessity when so many of our meetings take place on the other side of the world. I shave as quickly as I can. Lena hates scruff.
Lena sweeps into my office as I'm buttoning my shirt, face perfectly made up, dark hair cascading down her back in a shiny curtain, diamonds at her ears. Her dress is a simple spaghetti strap sheath with a plunging neckline and a hemline that ends just below her ass. A wave of regret passes through me. There will be no removing that tonight. Not with the work in front of us.