Bedding the Geek Tycoon (3 page)

“This is a terrible idea,” he muttered.

He slid into bed with her, wrapped his arms around her, and fell asleep.

Three

Jenn’s eyes opened on clothes draped over her bedside table. Slacks, a white button-up shirt, a jacket… a
men’s
jacket… And there was an arm wrapped around her. A very strong arm.

Oh, hell
.

The evening after work came flooding back to Jenn all at once. When she moved, Ryan did, too. He unwound his arm from around her body and sat up, and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. She rolled over to look at his muscular back. Her body ached in all the best ways.

Jenn enjoyed the view of Ryan as he stretched. He glanced down at her. His expression was suddenly cold, as though he had put on a mask since the night before. “I hope that was good for you. I’m out of practice.”

“It was more than good.” She flashed a shy smile at him, but he started getting dressed without replying. “Where are you going?”

“I have work to do.”

Jenn sat up. The blanket fell around her waist, and Ryan’s eyes roved down her body with hungry familiarity. “So soon?”

“It’s almost nine o’clock.”

She pushed his pants aside to find her alarm clock. He was right. Jenn usually got into the office by eight. “Shit! I slept in!” Jenn flung the blankets off, searching her closet floor for an outfit that wasn’t too wrinkled.

Ryan jerked his slacks over well-formed hips. “We should have dinner tonight.”

The knot of worry that had begun to form in her chest eased. “That sounds great. I’ll get to work on your project today. Hopefully I can figure it out in the next day or two.”

“I don’t doubt that you’re up for it.” Ryan touched her chin, his thumb lingering over her bottom lip. “I was an idiot in college.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked. “I always thought you were brilliant. You even stole a couple of programming competitions from me.”

He smiled. “Forget about it.”

They walked to the parking garage together and parted ways at the elevator. Their brief kiss was less heated than the night before. He didn’t regret spending the night with her, did he? Jenn definitely didn’t have any regrets.

She went to work, hoping to turn in her files for the Brady case and go home by lunch. But it took longer than expected. She had thought she had the last account all packaged up and ready to be sent to her boss, but it turned out she had left most of the files scattered across her computer—typical behavior on the projects she didn’t care about.

Jenn was filing away the last of her work when a man leaned an elbow on the edge of her cubicle, rapping his fingers on the metal rim. “Hey. What are you doing?”

She glanced up to see her department’s director giving her body a long, slow once-over. Oscar suffered from an overabundance of money and power. He wore a ridiculously expensive suit, the kind of haircut that cost at least a hundred bucks, and manicured fingernails.

Since he was the director, he would never have told Jenn outright that he thought he had enough money to buy her, too, but he never failed to make his feelings clear anyway.

Jenn blew out a breath. “I’m emailing you the Brady files, sir.”

“You finished it already?” He arched a trimmed eyebrow.

Yeah, about a month ago
. “Yes, sir.”

“Impressive.” Oscar cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. Jenn recognized the signs of an impending come-on and tried not to roll her eyes. “The client has been impressed with your progress. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled with the finished product, too. I’m going to take you out to dinner to celebrate.”

Jenn feigned regret. “Oh, damn. You know, I already have plans.”

“You never have plans.”

Was her reputation for being anti-social really that bad? “It’s a special occasion.” She hurried to shut down her email client and folders. “I was even thinking of taking the whole week off.”

“A
week
?”

“I gave Peter notice. He said it was okay.”

“You can’t go for a week,” Oscar said dismissively, stepping into her cubicle. “We need you here.”

“I’ve got the leave saved up. I’m taking a week.” Jenn hit the power button and gathered up her papers, but Oscar stepped in her way before she could leave. He grabbed her arm—not hard, but not exactly gentle, either.

“We should discuss the Brady files over lunch, at least.”

She tried to shake the director off, but he didn’t let go. “I need to go, Oscar.
Sir
.”

Oscar smiled. “Come on, Jenn, you should loosen up a—”

“Is there a problem here?”

Jenn turned to see Ryan radiating anger outside her cubicle.

He had changed into a tight-fitting black t-shirt that hugged every muscle, and the glasses made him look like Superman hiding as Clark Kent. He could have been frightening if her knees didn’t immediately weaken at the sight of him.

“No problem here,” Jenn said, wrenching her arm free. “We were talking about my last case.”

Oscar straightened to his full height, which was at least an inch shorter than Ryan. “We have a rule about visitors in the office, Miss MacLennan.”

“Yeah. Sorry. We’re leaving right now.” She reached for Ryan’s elbow with the idea she could lead him to the elevator—not that she would be able to physically force him to do anything—but he shifted and grabbed her hand instead, twining his fingers through hers. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip a little too tight.

“I expect to see you at the meeting tomorrow,” Oscar said.

Ryan pulled her against his side and turned a Glare of Death on the director.

“I’ll try,” she said.

Once they were in the elevator and the doors slid shut, Ryan dropped her hand. She couldn’t help but be disappointed. “What was that?” he asked.

“My boss,” Jenn said. “Actually, the boss of my boss.”

“He was coming onto you.”

“Oscar’s a harmless prick. He hits on me, I don’t throw a sexual harassment case at him, and he turns a blind eye to my private use of company equipment. It’s not worth picking a fight over it.”

He stepped into her personal space, forcing her back against the elevator wall. He smelled like aftershave and a masculine musk that made her flash back to the night before. “You could have a much better job. A job
without
sexual harassment.”

Her knees wobbled. “Is that an offer?”

“Maybe.”

The answer surprised her. Turner wasn’t just a ridiculously rich company—they had great employee benefits.

But Ryan couldn’t offer her anything. He was just an engineer. She shrugged it off. “So what are you doing here? I thought you were going to call me.”

Ryan flashed a smile. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

The elevator reached the bottom floor with a chime, and Ryan strode across the lobby of her office, leaving Jenn hurrying to catch up with him.

Jenn was surprised to find that Ryan drove a lifted truck that required a special step to reach the passenger’s seat. It was a black, imposing beast with tinted windows and an antenna that suggested a little more technology than usually came standard with such things.

He unlocked the truck with a dongle, and Jenn opened her door, reaching up on her toes to grab the handle and haul herself into the passenger’s seat.

“Hope you don’t mind that I came for you early.” He gracefully slipped behind the wheel.

“Not at all.” Jenn had to lean almost entirely out of the truck to grab the door. The truck smelled new, like leather and air freshener, and the seats were so heavily cushioned she could have easily fallen asleep where she sat.

It roared like a beast when Ryan turned the key in the ignition.

She gave him a look, and he grinned.

“So Turner pays their engineers pretty well,” she said.

“Well above market, yeah. Employee retention is cheaper than headhunting and training.”

“And I’ve heard the Turner family really cares about its employees,” Jenn said. “There was a whole write-up in Forbes about it last February.”

He turned out of the parking lot. “I suppose.”

Something about the slant of his totally dreamy Superman lips made her think she had said something wrong.

She searched for something to say that would make it better. “This is a nice truck.”
Smooth
.

“Thanks.”

Okay, so that hadn’t helped. She took Ryan’s distraction as an opportunity to study his handsome features. Had she really had those lips between her legs the night before? Had those hands really massaged her breasts, stroked her in places she hadn’t been touched for years, brought her to shuddering climax on the floor of her apartment?

Ryan Stone was straight out of her daydreams. No way that could be real.

But the growing heat between her legs was real, and kind of embarrassing. He hadn’t even done anything yet. But damn if the way he turned that steering wheel wasn’t the sexiest driving she had ever seen.

Some superhero you are, Jenn. All it takes to penetrate your shields is one hot former TA within arm’s reach.

“What are you staring at?” he asked, shooting a glance at her.

Jenn’s cheeks heated. “Sorry. I was just thinking about… dinner.”

His eyebrow quirked. “You sure about that?”

If dinner was whipped cream and strawberries and hot man flesh…

“Of course.” Her voice was an octave too high. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m open for suggestions.”

I bet you are.

She struggled to keep the suggestions she really wanted to make off her lips—like the ones that involved getting Ryan back to her place as soon as possible and riding him like Yoshi in Super Mario World. A very dirty Super Mario World.

What a dork.

Somehow, she managed to say something that sounded normal. “I really like pho. There’s a good place on the corner.”

“I have a better idea.”

He headed out of the city, and she watched as the bay passed underneath them. Jenn didn’t own a car. She was so accustomed to taking the train everywhere that it was almost surreal going over a bridge on the freeway.

They drove on for several minutes in total silence aside from the engine’s throaty rumble and the patter of growing rain on the windshield. She peeked up at him through her bangs, stealing glances of his rugged profile. His sideburns were indented slightly—like he normally wore glasses.

Oh man, glasses. The idea practically made her salivate.

“Thank you,” he said, breaking the silence.

She blinked. “For what?”

“For agreeing to take on the project. I know you must be busy with your own work.”

“Not really,” Jenn admitted. “Nothing that comes through Oscar is challenging, you know? I try to keep myself busy, but I have yet to find a problem I can’t conquer.” Except, maybe, for the mystery that was the sexy Ryan Stone.

“You’re really incredible,” he said. A thrill shot through her stomach, making her abs clench. He cleared his throat. “Your accomplishments.”

When she spoke, her voice was softer than she intended. “You, too.” He glanced at her, lips tight. “I mean, being an engineer for Turner is something you should be proud of. I’m happy to help you, but you’re not exactly a lazy bum yourself. You know?”

His knuckles went white on the wheel. “Stop it. Just… be quiet, Jenn.” The intensity in his voice shocked her to silence. His burning eyes turned on her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He pulled off the freeway abruptly, taking a side road into the trees. The motion was so sudden that she had to grab the dashboard to steady herself.

Ryan’s truck bounced over the rough road, going just into the forest where they could see the road, but could not be seen through the bushes. And then he stopped.

A few drops of rain filtered through the tree branches and drummed on the windshield.

He turned off the car. His stare drove right through her.

“This doesn’t look like dinner,” she said lightly. He responded by dragging her into his lap. His fingers bit into her hips as he shoved back his chair, giving them more space. She gasped. “What—?”

“You don’t have to be so nice to me, Jenn,” Ryan growled.

“I’m not being nice, I’m being honest.”

He silenced her with a hand on the back of her neck, dragging her lips down to crush them against his. His kiss was rough and sudden. The pressure was almost bruising. It made her heart race, her skin flush, her body heat. All it took was a touch.

She gripped his shoulders and pressed against him even harder.

When he broke the kiss, she could barely breathe. “I don’t know you at all, do I?” Jenn asked, suddenly hoarse.

“No.” His eyes smoldered. “But I want to know you, Jenn. I want to know you so much better.
Damn
it.”

Some part of her realized that statement didn’t make sense—why would he be angry at her for caring about him, and for wanting to care about her? But all she could think about was the hard bulge straining against Ryan’s jeans, pressed between her legs, and it pretty much killed all her brain cells on contact.

They never made it to dinner.

Jenn didn’t care.

She almost ripped his fly when she opened his jeans. His cock was already at half-mast, just from having her in his lap for a few short seconds, and it swelled at her touch.

A helpless whimper tore from her throat.

So delicious. She couldn’t resist.

Jenn squeezed it gently, feeling the blood rush under her hand as it hardened, and then stroked her hand over the shaft.

“God, Jenn,” he murmured in a harsh undertone, sliding his hand up her shirt. He shoved the hem over her breasts, exposing the swollen mounds to the warm air of the car.

His hands smoothed over the material, flicking her nipples through the silk. Ryan’s hands dragged her closer, pinning her belly to his, and he bent his head to lock the moist heat of his mouth over one breast.

She almost forgot to keep stroking him. When she realized her hand had stilled, she pumped it over him with new fervor.

His fingers pinched her nipple through the bra. “I want to taste you,” she moaned, trying to pull away so she could envelop him in her mouth. “Let me—”