Chapter One

“Can we push out the beta on this subset of rewards?” Justin pointed to a line item on the production schedule displayed on Antonio’s monitor.

The men sat across from each other in Antonio’s office, hammering out scheduling details that didn’t want to be tamed. Antonio twisted the screen to face him, and frowned. “Not without drawing extra attention. And if I give any of my guys more work, I have to stop pretending these demands don’t require overtime.”

“Fuck.” Justin didn’t have a problem offering their salaried employees an incentive for working extra hours, but he and Antonio were already pushing their luck with their time demands. Trying to balance working on a project their board of directors explicitly turned down, with getting other work done, was taxing everyone as it was.

Justin stood and strolled to the other side of Antonio’s desk. Justin leaned in to get a better view of the split screen, resting one arm on the back of the chair and his hand on the desk next to Antonio’s. A flash of heat flowed between them, despite Justin not making contact, and he paused for a moment to let it pass. Years ago, when they started working together, Justin questioned the energy. Was it attraction? Lust?

It was common enough Justin wrote it off as nothing these days. Familiarity at the most. He focused on the development timeline. “There’s nothing else to move.”

“No. We’re tapped.” Antonio twisted in his seat. Muscle rippled along his back, stretching his shirt and hinting at a physique honed by a steady diet of gym-time. He faced Justin. “I need another person.” Antonio’s r’s rolled of his tongue. His accent wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to reveal Italian was his first language.

That, combined with a strong jaw and brown eyes so dark they were almost black, got Antonio a lot of tail. Male. Female. He had his pick. If Justin were anything other than straight, and not worried about destroying a brilliant friendship and business relationship, he’d be tempted to see if the reality matched the promise of the packaging.

Justin shook the thought aside. It was better than dwelling on the work issue, but it would dead end just as quickly as this search for more development hours.

Antonio’s phone rang, and Rebecca flashed on the screen. Justin reached past him to hit the speaker button. “What’s up?”

“I had a feeling you were in there.” Rebecca was Justin’s assistant, and frequently knew better where Justin was supposed to be than he did. “Grant’s looking for you.”

Justin gritted his teeth as a dull throb started behind his right eye. He didn’t have to ask if she knew what Grant wanted. Justin had hoped to put off another money conversation until after the PrimeAssure contract was signed.

He grabbed the receiver. “Send him through.” The line clicked. “Grant. Sorry to keep you waiting. What can I do for you?” He moved back to the opposite side of the desk and dropped into a seat, sharing a scowl with Antonio.

“How’s the weather up there?” Grant’s tone was pleasant. It was also disconcerting. This was a man who loathed small talk.

“Sunny. Warm. Perfect golf weather, if you like that sort of thing.” Same as it was nine times out of ten in San Jose.

Antonio raised his brows.

Grant made a tsk-tsk sound. “Never cared for golf. Listen, about that conversation we had a few months back?”

“Which one?”

“You know which.” The one where Grant was concerned about annual profit loss projections, and asked if Phase 3 would be out of beta in his lifetime. “Don’t yank my chain on this. The solution to low numbers is not to put higher numbers on paper.”

Damn Rebecca for being efficient. Justin would make sure next time to specify don’t send this until after the PrimeAssure visit rather than no rush to get this to Grant’s office.

“The projections are legitimate,” Justin said. “Our alphas have all gone smoothly, and we’ve got a beta and contract in the pipes.”

“In the pipes isn’t signed.”

“It will be. I wouldn’t have slated the money if I wasn’t confident.”

Grant sighed. “The problem with you tech boys is you’re always confident. It doesn’t equal reality.”

“In three weeks, I’ll have signatures, I’ll have a deposit, and those numbers you’re looking at will be a modest estimate.” Justin wasn’t making things up for the sake of looking good. It might seem like smoke to someone not on the inside, but he had no doubt the deal was done. He smothered irritation that someone would question it. Grant had his reasons, and those were based in experience. This was a different beast, though.

Antonio had a small pocket of their developers working on the projects he and Justin wanted done. If they could get something out there, stay under the budget set for the entire company, meet their existing deadlines, and prove it was a worthwhile endeavor, he could justify expanding the company into more. It was the staying under budget and still meeting deadlines that caused issues for Justin and Antonio.

Justin looked up. Antonio gave him a sympathetic smile and shrugged. At least that made for a reassuring view.

“Tell you what,” Justin said to Grant. “Your next office visit is coming up. Make it three weeks from now, and I’ll show you the contract personally, as well as let you sit with the developers and see how this flows.”

“That sounds great. In the meantime, I’d like to give you some extra help, to ensure you meet your upcoming release date. I have the perfect retainer for your group.”

Justin’s stomach sank. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“It’s no trouble. It won’t come out of your budget. Ms. Lowry is my best, and she’ll be there to help you and reassure me. Nothing more.” Grant kept a handful of contract developers on a small salary when they weren’t working for him, and paid their standard hourly rate in addition to that when he needed their skills. It ensured they made him a priority when he called. For instance, when he lost faith in a company.

There were rumors he stayed vested in one or two companies over the years, after his retainers fixed their projects. No one remained solvent after Grant branded them as not viable, though. His investment was the equivalent of a gold rating, and his pulling that money was a death knell.

Justin scrubbed his face, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “When you put it that way, it sounds fantastic. I look forward to it.”

“Great.” Grant’s voice was flat and seconds later, the line went dead.

Justin didn’t put the receiver back in place. “Plans tonight?” He looked at Antonio.

“Same thing I do every night.” It wasn’t taking over the world, but he and Justin spent most of their free time hammering away at the programming work they didn’t have enough staff for. It didn’t matter that it was Friday; the answer was always the same.

“We’ll take tomorrow night off.” The impulse struck Justin, and while it wasn’t a good idea to waste that time, they were going to need a little break before things got really busy. It had been too long since he and Antonio went out for fun. And watching Antonio pick someone up, especially when he hinted after at details, was as alluring to Justin as finding his own hookup.

Justin dialed another number. “Rebecca, as you’re walking out tonight, will you call us in a delivery from Golden Dragon? Standard order and instructions. Thanks.” He finally replaced the handset in its cradle, then leaned back in his seat. “I almost forgot. You’re getting an extra developer.”

 

*

 

When Antonio was growing up, it was a given that he’d take over the family business—his father’s technology company—someday. That didn’t stop people from asking him what he wanted to be when he got older. His answer changed weekly, but he was pretty certain what he did now was never on the list. Not that he knew how to describe what this was. Keeping the suits happy while trying not to lose grasp of the dream he and Justin built from the ground up? Not exactly a job title.

Another developer should be good news, but rumors about the type of extra staff provided told Antonio this wasn’t news to celebrate. “I’d like to think you’re joking.”

“My sense of humor isn’t that bad. She’ll be here Monday morning. Grant assures me she’s the best retainer he’s got.” Justin said the word retainer the same way someone might say hitman. In Grant’s case, they were synonymous. Even with disdain dripping from Justin’s voice and marring his expression, he was attractive.

Antonio would much rather admire the scenery for a few more minutes than have this conversation. Too bad that wasn’t practical. “Do we pause the work on education?”

“No. Definitely not.” Justin was toeing the line of carelessness with this project. It wasn’t obvious at first, but after his fiancée dumped him six months ago, and as the work deadlines got tenser, he let more slide.

Sometimes Antonio worried Justin would throw away what they already had, to prove his education idea could work. Not that Antonio blamed him for pushing. Despite the title Founder and CEO that decorated Justin’s business cards and email signature, Justin didn’t have the kind of control he wanted over their finished product. Money talked, and they still needed someone else’s to make the magic happen.

“Grant assured me she’ll only be here to provide extra labor. She’s not a spy or anything of that sort. My interpretation.” Justin ground out the words with disgust. “Give her the tasks that require the least training, and leave the high-end work to the people who know the product. We still have full control.”

“That sounds too simple.”

Justin’s smirk shown through pursed lips. Kissable, alluring… Antonio shook the thoughts aside to focus on when he was alone.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Justin asked. “I don’t think for a minute she won’t report back to him, outside of whatever we tell him.”

Normally Antonio tried to distract himself from things like the set of Justin’s mouth when he was focused. Or the intense flash of Justin’s blue eyes when passion—good or bad—simmered inside. Or the fact he was more handsome than was fair. Right now, Antonio preferred enjoying the eye candy to acknowledging Justin’s creeping irritation, and his half of an awkward power struggle of a conversation.

“But you don’t want to shut down the extraneous work while she’s here.” Antonio shifted the direction of his thoughts, and the big picture clicked into place. “That’s what we’re doing tonight—figuring out how to keep the other project off her radar.”

“Yup. With a little maneuvering, she can shadow each of us as is expected, and never have to know we’ve split our resources.” Some of the strain evaporated from Justin’s voice. “I’ve got another meeting. We’ll regroup this afternoon.”

“Wait.”

“Hm?” Justin paused.

“Never mind. I’ve got it.” Antonio wouldn’t give voice to the doubt whispering through his thoughts. The murmur that Justin might sabotage this on purpose. He might be nearing burnout, when it came to shelving his ideas in favor of the board, but this company was still his baby. Asking—even implying otherwise—would add a new layer of tension to the situation, and that was the last thing they needed.

Antonio dove back into his work. If he had a brand-new developer coming on, retainer or not, he had a lot to rearrange outside of what he and Justin would discuss tonight, and probably over the weekend. Like making sure the new person had enough work to keep busy for at least a couple of days, with minimal instruction, until Antonio figured out a longer-term schedule.

Fortunately, he had a mile-long list of minor bug fixes—the kind of thing that always got shoved to the last minute, because they were quick to fix, but somehow never got corrected before the initial release. They should be easy to hand off and get her familiar with the code, so Antonio could see what she was capable of.

A group chat message from his development team chimed over his speakers.

Picking up Mexican. Anyone want anything?

The question was followed by a series of lunch orders. He hadn’t realized it was noon. With the schedule that loomed in front of him, eating at his desk seemed like the best option. He typed, grab me whatever the special is today, and turned back to his work.

Just as he was getting back into the right mindset, his cellphone chimed. So much for finding his focus. Dad flashed on the screen, and Antonio swiped Answer without hesitation.

“Ciao.” It felt good to speak in his native Italian. It was nine in the evening back home, and this was usually when his parents called when they wanted to chat.

“How’s it going?” His father’s cheerful voice rang over the line.

Antonio wouldn’t mind chatting, if he weren’t strapped for time. “Great. Busy. Life as usual. What’s up?”

“Checking to make sure you still plan on being home for your mother’s birthday.”

Antonio had scheduled the time off months ago, and he was looking forward to seeing Milan again almost as much as he was seeing his family. “Of course.” The trip was six weeks out. His development team would have either met their deadline by then or missed it by a mile. Either way, he wasn’t skipping something as important as Mother’s birthday. “We talked about this, though. Nothing’s changed. You could have emailed.” He stayed casual despite his suspicion. Dad wasn’t much for idle chatter. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve got a couple of business associates in the States this week, and I’d like you to show them around San Jose while they’re out there. Also, I was hoping while you were home, we could discuss transition, and set aside some dates to make things happen.”

Oh. That. Dad wanted to retire, and have Antonio take over his technology business. Move back home. Stop working for someone else, and pick up the reins of the family business. It was the one thing Antonio didn’t need to be thinking about. He’d managed to put it out of his head for a few days. “Happy to take the gentlemen out to dinner. Give them my number, and we’ll make arrangements. I’m not sure I’ll have final dates for you by then.”

“It’s been more than a year since we started kicking this around. How much longer do you need, to set the wheels in motion? Have you started making transition plans with Justin yet?”

He hadn’t. Justin was half the reason he didn’t want to go. The other half was that Antonio wasn’t interested in the family business. He and Justin built this one together, from the ground up. He’d worked for his father for a couple of years and never made it above the bottom rung. He didn’t belong there; he did here. “The timing hasn’t been great.”

“We’ll talk about it when you’re back in Milan.” The pleasantness vanished from his father’s voice. “No excuses this time.”

Antonio gritted his teeth, grateful no one could see his expression. “Sure. I’m looking forward to it. I have to get back to work. Talk to you later, Dad.”

As he disconnected, consequences raced through his thoughts. Leaving meant surrendering too much, including the one thing he’d never dare admit to anyone—he barely allowed himself to think it. He loved Justin. Not that he had any illusions about the sentiment being returned. It was a pleasant fantasy when Antonio needed something more personal than porn to jerk off to, but for the most part, Antonio was content seeing Justin happy.

Which wasn’t happening right now. The realization hit Antonio hard and tugged loose a series of other notions he didn’t want to recognize. If this thing with the retainer didn’t go well—if the company collapsed because of it—he wouldn’t have a good excuse to stay. Then again, if they met their deadline and signed the PrimeAssure contract, he wouldn’t want to leave.

He sank back in his chair with a sigh. Either way, he was going to let someone down.

Chapter Two

Emily poked at the cherry in what was left of her Appletini. The bartender had teased her twice that he’d never before seen someone make a drink last two hours. Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it from her purse.

Not going to make it after all. Sorry.

Emily frowned at the text from her best friend. This entire night out was Cynthia’s idea. Emily replied. I’ll be home soon. Help you figure out what’s going on.

The downside to Cynthia being her own boss was she frequently worked Saturday nights. She hadn’t expected tonight’s emergency to take long, but she must have miscalculated. She needed to work out some kinks in her app before she met with her next round of investors on Monday.

Don’t you dare leave, Cynthia wrote. That defeats the purpose.

Emily scowled at her phone. I can be daring somewhere else.

If you can’t handle picking up a guy in a bar, how are you going to stash your doubt long enough to have fun halfway around the world?

Most of her life, Emily had poured her efforts into work of some sort. In school, it was studying full time—she’d always had trouble keeping her grades up. After graduation, it was work of the paying sort. There was always another bill to pay, or requirement to prove herself.

She wanted more, though. The desire to do and be and see more hit her several months ago, and refused to release its claws. She’d been saving her money, and when her next job was up, she’d have enough to take half a year off and go wherever she wanted in the world. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of almost being at that point combined with a test run of leaving her inhibitions behind.

Fine. She sent back to Cynthia. But I’m going to a different place.

Coming here specifically was a mistake. The bar was San Jose’s hot spot, frequented by everyone who wanted to be anyone. CEO’s of Silicon Valley’s startups.

Cynthia sent a follow-up text. Where you are is the same as any other bar you’d go to. He doesn’t have to be brilliant, he just has to be attractive and know when to not talk. Stop making excuses.

What if I do meet someone, and in a few months I find myself across from him in a contract?

Then you deal with that when it happens. You run that risk anywhere you meet someone in this town.

Emily dropped her phone back in her purse. Sometimes Cynthia made more sense than Emily wanted to admit.

A raucous cheer went up from a table halfway across the room, and her gaze drifted before she could stop it. The group had been there for maybe half an hour and got louder with each passing minute.

What kept drawing her eye, was the sexy guy sitting at the bar, a few feet from them. Dark hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and the way his button-down white shirt hugged the muscles of his torso was almost a sin. And she swore she saw a hint of ink scrawling above his collar. He wasn’t with the group, but if she cast her irritation in their direction each time they made noise, she got to see him.

Someone at the table said something. From the way Mr. Sexy shook his head and took another drink, she was glad she couldn’t hear it. He looked up, and when he saw Emily, his scowl melted into a smile.

Not fair. That made him more attractive. Maybe Cynthia was right; this bar was as good as any. Emily returned the look. When he pushed back his chair and strode in her direction, her pulse hammered in her ears.

Crap. Smiling worked? She didn’t expect that. Now what?

He took the seat next to her and settled his arm against hers. “Can I buy you another of whatever you’re drinking?”

He even had a sexy voice. This wasn’t real. Was it? “No, thanks. I’ve had enough.”

His brow furrowed for a moment, and he studied her. “That’s good for me, then. If you’re sober, I know you’re genuinely interested. That means I can keep you up late.” He winked.

Her thoughts ground to a halt, before spinning up at high speed and diving into the analytical. Was that meant to be innuendo? The wink said he was teasing. Or being seductive. Was he making conversation and nothing more? What was she supposed to say next?

The way he looked her over, attention lingering on her chest and then her lips, sent heat flooding across her skin. “You’re new to this.” His eyes flashed with amusement.

Her thoughts stalled, and she growled at herself. This was ridiculous. She knew how to be assertive. It had taken her a while to learn, but as a contract software developer who was frequently assigned to work for companies who didn’t want her there, she’d learned how to walk that line between aggressive and friendly. “No, I’m not. I pick up confident, attractive guys all the time.”

“I like it.” His gaze was back on hers. Up close, his eyes weren’t simply blue; they were cool and clear, like warm ice. “I’m curious. You’re an attractive woman, who’s made more eye contact with your phone tonight than with any person here. You’re drinking alone in the middle of a bar full of sharks. Are you one of them, or looking to land one?”

She wasn’t sure if she should be insulted by the shark comparison. His tone didn’t imply he was being rude. It didn’t matter. She was stepping outside of her comfort zone, and he didn’t have to be a brilliant conversationalist to be a one-night stand. The thought left a bitter aftertaste that she tried to ignore. “Neither. I’m supposed to be celebrating with a friend, but she couldn’t make it.”

“She doesn’t sound like a great friend.”

Cynthia would do anything for her. “She’s the best, but sometimes work has to come first. What about you? You’re obviously on the prowl. Are you showing off your fin or looking for guppies?” This was good. She’d keep him from stealing the conversation away.

He grinned. “Who? Me? What about me says predatory?”

“Besides the toothy, devour-me smile?” Damn it. Despite the voice insisting he didn’t need to be anything besides attractive to be an option, she was as interested in what lay below the surface as the package it came in. Pretty paper shredded easily.

“Yes. Besides that.”

“Everything.”

“That’s not super specific.” He trailed a finger up her arm.

She lingered on the warmth of his touch, and the goosebumps he left behind. “In that case, I’m too polite to say.”

“Except that you led with the observation, which means your tongue’s not completely tied. Maybe I’m not a shark. What if I’m a complex book with enough pages no one will ever read them all?”

“Most people are.” Or rather, most people preferred to think they were. The banter with him moved at a nice clip, and she liked that she had to think to keep up. Maybe he’d be one of the few who was that complex.

“I bet you’re curious about my book’s contents,” he said.

“I’m still trying to decide if there are enough to make it worth my time.”

“Ouch. But that’s fair. Still, I think you’ve already started to compile a history for me, as well as everyone else you’ve watched tonight, and you want to know if you’re right.”

How was she supposed to react to that? His words were confrontational, but his tone and posture were flirty. She let her mouth keep running without permission; it was doing all right thus far. “Because I know you’re on the hunt tonight? I don’t need a complete history to guess that. It’s the same kind of observant as me reading the neon sign in the window and knowing they serve Bud Light here.”

“If I’m that obvious, you tell me—am I showing off my fin, or am I looking for guppies? And what does that make you?”

“Still looking for more of those pages you mentioned.” The back and forth was fun, but not if it didn’t move beyond the fish analogies.

“You’re right.” He didn’t reach for her, but the shift in his tone was enough to make her pause. “I tend to grab hold of an idea and run with it, but it’s clear the whole shark thing isn’t doing it for you. Let’s start over.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the way this works. You don’t get to find one woman and try every bad line you know on her until she caves.”

“I’m not here to pick someone up. That’s not a line; I promise. I saw you, and I couldn’t help myself. Apparently in more ways than one.”

That was flattering. It might be another line, despite his assurance, but it sounded genuine enough to draw her back into the conversation. “Why are you here, then?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend, too, but something came up.” He leaned back enough to draw his gaze over her again, this time lingering on her face.

“That’s convenient. I tell you a story, then you parrot it back to me and spin it as unique, simultaneously convincing me we have something in common and that you’re different from everyone else in here.”

“Nope. I’m not unique.” He nodded around the room. “Like every other suit here—and by here I mean the valley, not the bar—I own a tech startup. We wrote an app.”

His reply was rooted in the harsh reality of living in a town where everyone had written an app. That he didn’t mind admitting it made her smile. The release relaxed her.

“Until I saw you drinking alone, I was only in here for the white noise and to drown my sorrows,” he said.

“Is that when you zeroed in on me as a gullible guppy?”

“Not even close. I always pictured guppies as the water equivalent of sheep, and you’re most definitely neither. You strike me as more of a siren. Gorgeous and alluring from a distance, but dangerous if someone unsuspecting gets close.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “That’s a bit over the top. Not quite at the level of the shark analogy, but close.”

“I’m being sincere. I was before, as well, but like I said—sometimes I hold onto an idea longer than I should.” He hovered a finger it millimeters from her lips before dropping his hand again. “I wanted to talk to you, and one-too-many drinks convinced me smooth and cocky was the way to go.”

Talking to him was a new kind of captivating. He was sexy-as-fuck on the physical scale, and intriguing on top of that. She couldn’t guess his intentions or next move, and she wanted to find out more. “Why are you drowning your sorrows?”

“Boring business stuff.”

“That’s not super specific.” She intentionally mimicked his reply from earlier.

“I don’t want to sound like everyone else in the room. But since you’re prodding… My investors want me to do one thing with my business. I want to do something else. They won. First thing Monday morning, they’re sending in a ruthless, heartless killer to determine how many ways we’ve fucked up. It’s not the executioner, but the judge and jury. Someone to report back to the men up top, about whether our fuckup is small enough to gloss over or they should sacrifice my whole company.” His bitter tone put most she’d heard to shame.

She pitied the poor person who got in his path Monday morning. “Sounds brutal.”

“It is. I may be a shark, but I’m not the biggest one in my ocean.” He frowned, then shook his head, and his smirk flitted back in. “I’m getting fucked, we’ve both been stood up by the people supposed to have our backs, and you’re sure you don’t want another drink?” He waved the bartender over.

“On second thought, I’d love one. Something with ice in it.” Maybe that would cool the heat flowing over her. Then again, maybe she didn’t want the warmth gone.

“Two Jack and Cokes on the rocks.” He ordered, slid a bill across the bar, and turned back to her.

“Why the shark analogy?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’m in a Jaws kind of mood.”

She pursed her lips. “Is this the point where you tell me we should compare scars? Am I Robert Shaw or Richard Dreyfuss?”

“It’s not a bad suggestion, but…” He tugged down his collar, exposing more of the tattoos. They scrolled around the back of his neck and vanished beneath his shirt. This wasn’t fair. Every new hint he showed of himself was another layer of tantalizing.

He exposed his right shoulder and—without looking—pointed to a shark in the middle of a collage of cartoon characters, map pieces, and foreign characters. “Really, I’m a fan of the movie. First tattoo I got was when I visited Martha’s Vineyard. Some tourists collect shot glasses. I wanted my memories to be more permanent, so every tattoo is from a place I’ve been.”

The glimpse she had said there were a lot of tattoos. “Wow.” She reached up and traced the edges of color on his skin, some more distinct and others faded. He’d done the traveling she only dreamed of. Her fascination grew several notches. “I bet you have some amazing stories to go with each of these.”

He covered her fingers and drew them down his collarbone and across his chest before letting go. “I do.”

“I don’t have anything to show you in return. I’ve only got the one scar, and it’s going to take a couple more drinks, or a bit more witty banter, before I show you proof of my appendix surgery.” Though at this point, she was hoping for a lot of the latter, and the opportunity to show him more than just the pale white line running along her side.

Something caught her eye, and she brushed his neck again. His skin was smooth against her fingertips, coaxing her nerve endings to life. She nudged aside the fabric of his shirt for a closer look at one of his tattoos. “A phoenix?”

“Shit. Now you’ve discovered my dorky side.” Amusement sparkled in his eyes. His expression was mischievous, and a new level of alluring.

That didn’t mean she understood why he thought the bird was dorky. “It’s a symbol of death and rebirth. Of rising from the ashes. That’s magnificent.”

“And exactly what I’ll tell the next person who asks why I got it. Your answer is a lot better than mine.”

She laughed. “What’s the real reason?”

“I love comics, and I’ve got a thing for redheads who have an uncanny ability to see past what’s on the surface.”

He could be talking about her or Jean Grey. Probably a little of both, and she wasn’t sure she cared what the ratio was. The compliment danced over her skin and made her pulse race. “Sirens and psychics. You like your women exotic.”

“I never thought of it that way. I prefer the term unique. But the right magic powers make for a good fantasy.”

“I can’t argue with that.” In fact, visions filled her mind as they spoke. Of how this man’s lips would feel, pressed hard and hungry against hers. Of his fingers roaming her body, stripping away her clothing a piece at a time. Of what came next.

“What kind of fantasies have you got?”

She shook her head. “You’re redeeming yourself from the bad start, but not enough to segue from comics to sex.”

“I don’t remember specifying the type of fantasy, but now that you mention it… I’m curious. I feel like I’m the only one sharing.”

She was pretty sure she’d shared more than she intended to. It was working for her though, and she wasn’t interested in turning back now. The only problem with that was she never meant to share details. “Nope. Even if you had broken my defenses down that far, I’d tell you, you’d be bothered, and the night would be over.”

He frowned. “You don’t get off on guys licking your shoes, do you? Because I’ve sworn off groveling outside of office hours. Especially if I’m not getting paid.” His tone started as serious, but shifted back to playful by the end of the sentence.

Or she’d imagined it was anything but lighthearted. “It’s not that. I promise.”

“Now I’m curious. You’ve built it up enough that, once you tell me, it’ll seem like nothing and we’ll both laugh it off.”

She doubted that, but the challenge to shock him was enough to loosen her tongue. The hope he would be put off after all made up her mind for her. “One of my favorites? Being with two guys at once.”

“Why would that bother me?”

“It doesn’t threaten your masculinity or make you feel inadequate?” She expected at least a hint of recoil.

He shrugged. “It’s a fantasy. But if you’d like to make it real, I can see if my friend’s done working for the night. Women love him. Italian accent. Tall, dark, and handsome. The two of us could make your night.” He reached toward his jeans. “I’ll call him.”

She grabbed his wrist, and a jolt of want raced through her. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s called fantasy for a reason.”

“Then you don’t want company?”

“In my fantasy? You’re already there.” She hadn’t meant to admit that, but she was glad the confession was out there. Images of this man and his faceless friend teased and tempted her. Why had she stopped him from making that call? Right. She might be up for bold tonight, and would even say yes if he wanted to take this conversation somewhere more private, but she wasn’t willing to shed all her inhibitions yet.

“I was thinking something more outside of your head but with less background noise than here. Like my place.” He stood and offered his hand. When she grasped his fingers, he tugged her to her feet. He dipped his head and trailed his lips along the edge of her ear. “No expectations. Unless you’re into lengthy arguments about whether Green Lantern was a better movie than Batman Forever.”

“That’s not a lengthy conversation. It was Batman.” Who the hell was this guy? Cocky asshole, closeted geek, or something in between she couldn’t quite place her finger on? It was enough to ratchet her curiosity up several notches. She wanted to find out more and had just enough Jack flowing through her veins to strip away her reservations.

He searched her face and asked, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

To be continued…

|  Chapter Three – Four

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