Hardwired (The Hardwired Series) (Volume 1) (21 page)

“You’re back.”

“I am. Where were you?” I peeked over the screen of my laptop.

His hair was mussed and his big brown eyes looked tired. “There’s this girl, Cady. She lives downstairs.”

“Shut up!”

“Uh, okay,” he said, frowning.

“I’m sorry, that’s code for ‘please continue.’”

“She’s got the new
Call of Duty
game, so we were up late with that. I crashed down there.”

“Do you like her?” This was real progress, and Cady seemed unconventional and geeky enough that this could possibly work. Still, I was getting way ahead of myself.

“She’s nice, yes,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets nervously.

“That’s cool.” I tried to temper my excitement. “Hey, thanks for putting the furniture together.”

“No worries. It’s kind of fun actually.”

I grinned. “Only you would think so.”

He shrugged. “Probably. How was your trip?”

I hesitated for a second. How could I censor the sequence of events that comprised my rather short stay? Blake’s ex-girlfriend threatening me, an unexpected reunion with Blake, and the crescendo of discovering Heath’s criminal drug problem, which had unknown consequences on Alli. She still hadn’t returned my calls or texts.

“I made a few connections,” I said and left it at that. Alli and Sid had never been especially close, and his energies were better spent on the business rather than mulling over or even hearing about her drama.

Sid nodded and signaled his retreat back to the cave with a tap on his forehead.

I stopped him. “Hey, I might need your help with something.”

“What’s that?”

“Wait here.”

I went to the bedroom and retrieved the photo from the box. When I returned, I placed it on the counter in front of him.

“Who’s that?”

“That’s my mother. And that,” I said, pointing to the man next to her, “could very well be my father.”

His eyes shot up, traveling between the photo and me a few times. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I need you to help me find out who he is.”

“From this photo?”

“He was at Harvard with my mom in 1991. That and this photo is all I’ve got.”

Sid picked up the photo. He frowned and pursed his lips, a common expression when he was calculating and a good sign that he could and would help me.

“What’s your plan?” I asked tentatively.

“Unless Harvard keeps some sort of public digital database of former students, which I doubt they do, I’ll need to figure out how to access it privately. Then I’ll try to run some decent face recognition software and go from there.”

“Are you okay with that?” Guilt consumed me already. What I was asking of him probably required blatantly illegal access. I could always scour the yearbooks in the library and find the same information, but Sid’s method was surely faster and more accurate.

He shrugged. “Is this guy really your dad?”

“I wish I knew, Sid.”

“All right, I’ll let you know what I find,” he said. He returned to his room, taking the photo with him.

I turned my focus back to my laptop. I still had a hundred things to do, including sorting through the pile of resumes I’d accumulated since posting for Alli’s empty position before the trip. Now I couldn’t concentrate. How long would this search take? What if Sid found him in a matter of hours? What if he couldn’t find him at all? I chewed my fingernail.

My phone rang, nearly launching me out of my chair. I had the number saved to my phone and recognized it immediately.

I took a deep breath and answered cheerfully. “Hi, Isaac.” I was grateful to have any distraction right now.

“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” he asked.

I hesitated. “I’m not sure. Why?”

“I’m flying into Boston this afternoon. I figured we could touch base while I’m in town.”

“Oh, sure.” I still felt guilty for canceling on him at the last minute without a genuinely believable excuse. For all he knew, something had come up with the business that took me away abruptly at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning.

“Great, can you meet me at the Park Plaza, around six?”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

I hung up. Any excitement about meeting up with Isaac was easily dampened by knowing I’d be missing a quiet dinner with Blake at his place. I missed him too much already. I was falling hopelessly in love with Blake.
So what?
I was going to stop beating myself over every step that took me further into our relationship. If I was going to be falling hopelessly in love, at least I could do it wholeheartedly and without regrets in the process.

I glanced at the clock, debating for only a second before sending Blake a text.

E: Can I visit you at the office?

B: Please do.

I changed into a beige pencil skirt and white button up blouse and straightened my hair, making it smooth and sleek. I checked myself in the mirror, satisfied that I looked professional enough for dinner with Isaac and sexy enough to give Blake something to think about while I was gone.

* * *

Blake wasn’t in the bullpen when I arrived. No one seemed to notice me, so I walked back to his office.
 
He was camped in front of his triple monitor set-up. The televisions were silently broadcasting stock feeds and news channels on the other side of the room, reminding why his no electronics at home rule was in place.

I shut the door behind me.

He swiveled in his chair. “And to what do I owe this occasion?” He leaned back with a wicked grin on his face.

“I have a dinner meeting tonight.” I walked over to the opposite desk where he was forced to work with lowly paper and pens and propped myself up on it. “So I wanted to come see you for a little bit first.”

“Who’s the meeting with?”

“Perry.”

He scowled. “That fucking guy is relentless.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not well, but he’s obviously attracted to you.”

I laughed at his blatant assumption. While his suspicions might not be totally off, he had no way of knowing that. “Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

He ignored me and cupped his hands behind my knees, rolling himself closer to me. “Why don’t you let me come with you? I can be your business partner.”

My smile faded. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Blake.”

“Why? He’ll stick to business, and I won’t have to worry about you.”

“First off, because you aren’t my business partner, and secondly I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. He seems very professional, and I’d rather he be able to speak freely. You know, one on one.”

“You’re set on this?”

I kicked off my heels and slid off the desk, straddling him on the chair. “You’re overreacting,” I whispered. I kissed his neck, already intoxicated with his scent. He smelled clean and uniquely Blake. I took his earlobe between my teeth and gave it a gentle bite.

He took in a sharp breath.

I hooked my fingers in his belt loops and tugged myself closer, sliding my hand under his shirt. His muscles were hard and unforgiving, not unlike his present mood.

“What can we do to cheer you up, Blake?” I said, worrying the top button of his pants.

He caught my hand before I could go farther.

“None of that.”

I met his gaze. He was serious, but I could win this battle.

“Oh, I forgot, you have a reputation to uphold. No nookie in the office, or your minions will mutiny?” I tried to tease him out of his mood by keeping mine light.

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “What am I going to do with your smart mouth?”

I lined his jaw with soft kisses. “I could think of a few things.”

I brushed my lips over his as he bunched my skirt higher up my thighs. My breath came in short pants, my desire for him already at a fever pitch. He slipped his hand between my legs and teased me through my panties.

I moaned, pressing into his hand, my clit already throbbing for his touch. He pushed the fabric to the side, parting me and gliding through my folds.

“You’re ready for me,” he murmured.

“Always.” I circled my hips slightly, coaxing his movements.

He slid down my center with two fingers, grazing my clit between them, and then dipped them into my pussy and thumbed my clit again. He traveled that path over and over until my entire body was taut from the pressure, rocking precariously on the precipice of release.

“Come, Erica. Now. I want to feel your greedy little cunt get nice and tight.”

I dug into his shoulders as the climax ripped through me. I muffled a scream and convulsing against his body, my sex clenching almost painfully without his cock inside me. I fumbled with his fly, determined to change that fact. His erection struggled beneath the denim, the only element between us. He caught me by the wrist again, turning my palms up to press a slow wet kiss into each one.

“Blake,” I whimpered.

“You have to go to your meeting.” His voice was even as he released my hands. He held my gaze and dipped his fingertips into his mouth, sucking the moistened tips that I’d been riding only moments ago.
 

Fuck me, that was hot.
My heart palpitated, my chest heaving with the motion.

“We have plenty of time,” I said, heading back for his fly. After all, I’d calculated my arrival time with this in mind.

“Get up,” he ordered lightly.

Reluctantly I stood and leaned against his desk while he disappeared into the bathroom that connected with his office. He came back with a damp hand cloth and cleaned me, an act both tender and arousing.

“Am I being punished?” I asked, confused why he was being so steadfast, especially since he clearly wanted me too.

“No.”

“You want me.” I massaged his cock through his pants.

He shifted out of my reach. “I do. You’ll just have to hurry back from your meeting to find out how much.” He turned away and returned to the bathroom.

Resigned that this would be the end of our rendezvous, I straightened. I smoothed out the faint wrinkles in my skirt and tried to put myself back together, physically and emotionally. Out of fucking Blake mode and back into work mode—not an easy transition when all I could think about was how amazing I’d feel if he pounded me on his desk instead. I ran my fingertips over the frosted glass of the surface, the charms on my wrist clinking against it.

Blake came up behind me and pressed his warm body into mine. He kissed my shoulder.
 

“I have to go,” I said. The statement caught somewhere between frustration and desperation.

“Hurry back.” The depth of his voice reverberated through me.

My breasts felt swollen and heavy, aching for his touch. I pressed back into him and he let out a low growl. Then he was gone. I turned to find him at the mini bar. He poured himself a scotch and looked out the window.

I had too much pride to beg, and I didn’t feel like psychoanalyzing why he insisted on torturing us. We’d finish this later, but I was on fire now. I’d be counting down the minutes until my meeting was over. Of course that was exactly what Blake wanted. What else could I expect from a control freak hacker? He fought dirty.

* * *

Between the restored antiquities of the Plaza hotel, the chandeliers, gold crown molding, and the Frank Sinatra music pouring through the lobby, I might have stepped into a Rat Pack film. Isaac rose from a club chair on the other side of the room. I went to meet him, my heels clicking on the marble floors. He wore an expensive suit, but his shirt was unbuttoned at the top. That, with his winning smile, made him look casual and approachable.

When we met, he leaned in to air kiss me on the cheek, a gesture that reminded me too much of Sophia, but I entertained it.

“Where to?” I asked, eager to get the meeting underway.

“Let’s go to Maggiano’s. It’s right next door.”

We crossed the street and stepped into the sprawling Italian restaurant. We settled into a booth, sitting across from one another, and he ordered a bottle of wine.

“How’d everything go today?” I asked, hoping to make friendly conversation first, a skill I was trying to master.

“It went well, nothing notable. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have made the trip if I couldn’t meet with you.”

“Oh. I guess that worked out then.” I straightened my napkin on my lap, gliding my fingers absently over my still-wrinkled skirt.

“So tell me, why are you running the business in Boston?” he asked.

I lifted my eyebrows and pursed my lips while I searched for the right response. “I like being here, I suppose. I mean, I like New York too, but this has been my home for years now. I don’t really want to leave unless I have to.”

“There are so many more opportunities for you in New York.”

“Boston
is
a technology hub, you know.” Boston versus New York conversations could be tricky, but as long as we stayed off sports, we could probably keep this clean.

“There must be someone keeping you here then.” He leaned in with a grin.

I sat back and drummed my fingers on the checkered tablecloth. I tried to keep my expression cool. Why did he insist on making the conversation so personal? My small talk skills had never been great. Maybe I needed to give a little before diving into the logistics of how he envisioned us working together.

“There is someone keeping me here, yes.” A glimmer of an idea formed as I said the words.

“And he gave you these. Beautiful.” He brushed his fingers along my forearm to touch the diamond bangles that sparkled impressively in the dim light of the restaurant.

The contact shot through me, not in a good way. I pulled my arm back and tucked my hair behind my ear. I’d given him no indication that I wanted to be touched or wooed or flirted with. This was a business meeting, for Christ’s sake.

I chilled, wishing I’d brought a sweater, something to keep me warm and hidden from his suggestive looks. I regretted the blouse now. I’d dropped a button for Blake’s sake and there was no going back without being awkward now.

“Thank you.” I kept my eyes low and focused on the food that had arrived.