by Renee Rose
“I mean, do you think it will be hours? It won’t be hours, right?” She’s losing her breath again. It’s all I can do not to pull her onto my lap and hold her until all that trembling stops.
“Don’t make me grope you again.” Okay, I definitely shouldn’t say that, even if she said it first. The remark has its intended effect, though.
She snorts, which changes up her breathing pattern and helps her chill out.
“So you’re nervous about the interview?” I ask. Chitchat isn’t part of my repertoire, but it seems I’d do anything to calm her down. Or maybe I just want to hear her voice again. “You don’t seem nervous.”
“Besides the whole panic attack thing you’re doing a manly job distracting me from?”
My wolf preens at the compliment.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” she says, and the muscles of my groin seize almost painfully at the purr in her voice. She’s seducing me, and she doesn’t even know she’s doing it.
Maybe talking is a bad idea.
“Okay,” I respond.
“I’ve never worked a real job before. I mean, I have a job now, but it’s all telecommuting. I’ve never been in an office like this.”
“Think you can take it?”
“You know, five years ago I would’ve barfed at the thought. But, actually, SeCure is the one and only company I would put a suit and heels on for.”
And every male in the building thanks God she did. “Why is that?”
“SeCure represents the pinnacle of infosec. I mean, Jackson King is a genius. I’ve been following him since I was ten years old.”
I try to stop my wolf from strutting. “You sure you want to leave the pajamas at home and come into an office every day?”
“Yeah. It’d be good to have a reason to leave the house. Programming can be lonely. I mean, I do my best work alone but, it might be nice to be around people like me. Maybe find my tribe. Feel normal, you know?”
I don’t know. I haven’t had a tribe since I abandoned my birth pack with my fur soaked with my stepfather’s blood.
A company full of humans is a poor substitute.
“If you’re interviewing here for infosec, you must be talented,” I say to distract myself from bad memories.
“I have been coding since I was young,” she says dismissively, which again makes me think she’s downplaying her talent. “Being a teen geek girl definitely disqualified me from normal.”
“Normal is overrated. You just need to find your pack.”
“Pack?”
“I meant tribe.”
“No, I like pack. That makes me a lone wolf.” There’s a smile in her voice, and I bite back a sharp remark. Being a lone wolf isn’t as cool as it sounds. Even if it is all I deserve.
“So…” She has the tone of someone who’s been waiting to ask something.
“Have you ever met Jackson King?”
I hide a smile, even though she can’t see it. “Mmm. A few times, yeah.”
“What’s he like?”
I shrug in the darkness. “Hard to say.”
“Hard to say because he doesn’t reveal much?”
I keep my mouth shut.
“That’s what I’ve heard. So is he the awkward kind of geek or the creepy kind?”
I wasn’t aware of the various categories of geek. I don’t consider myself a geek, but, then, as a shifter, I don’t consider myself in any human category.
“I’m guessing the creepy kind,” she goes on. “Because no one that hot should be so anti-social. I mean, he must have some serious flaws. According to rumor, the man never dates. They say he has no social life whatsoever. Never goes out. Total recluse. He must be damaged. Or else gay. I bet he’s the type who keeps his boyfriend tied up in a closet for whipping when he comes home at night.”
Again, my face almost cracks into a smile. I’ll show you whipping, little Batgirl. “Sounds like you know a lot about him.”
“Oh...I, uh...I guess I’m interested in him. He’s kind of a celebrity to fellow geeks. I mean his original coding was pure genius, especially for the time.”
This time, I do grin. Her assessment of me, apart from the gay whipping boy part, makes my pulse pick up speed. Another anomaly. I don’t care for attention, and she’s right—I don’t give up personal information. I have too big a secret to hide. But her interest in me has my wolf pirouetting.
Mine.
“So, what kind of geek are you?” I ask.
“Apparently the kind who blathers like an idiot to strange men when she’s confined in elevators. But I’m sure you already picked that up. Sorry—I normally have a better-than-average filter. It’s a good thing we can’t see each other because I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself this morning.”
It’s getting harder and harder to keep from kissing her senseless. I’ve never been so happy to sit and listen to a human babble. My wolf doesn’t even mind being confined for over ten minutes. Usually, it’d be growling to break free and attack the threat. Which could be deadly.
My wolf seems more interested in protecting this lovely, feisty human. It took me a moment to recognize it, but now that I do, my pulse picks up and I have to force myself not to put my arm around her. Pull her close. Especially when she leans into me.
“Maybe you could agree not to look at me when the lights come back on so we can meet later under normal circumstances.”
I don’t answer.
“Hopefully, I won’t do this blathering thing during my interview and screw it up.”
“You really want this job?”
“Yeah. I do. It’s weird because eight years ago I would’ve laughed in your face if you’d told me I’d want to work for SeCure, but I guess I’ve changed. To me, Jackson King and the company he built represent the ultimate in infosec coding, and I want to be a part of that.”
The lights flicker on, and the elevator lurches into motion. Damn.
“Oh, thank God,” she breathes, scrambling to her feet.
I follow her to stand.
When she turns to look up at me, the smile freezes on her face.
Surprise.
She blanches and stumbles back.
The light illuminates her beauty. Flawless skin. Full lips. Big eyes. High cheekbones. And, yeah...the tits and legs looked as good now as they did in the dark. She’s a ten all around. And she’s figured out who I am, which gives me the upper hand.
“Well, now you’re quiet.”
“J.T.,” she mutters, sounding bitter. She glares as if I’d been the one smack-talking about her rather than vice versa. “What’s the “T” stand for?”
“Thomas.” My mother gave me a decidedly human name.
The elevator stops on the sixth floor, and the doors open. She doesn’t move.
I hold it with my hand and gesture for her to get off. “I believe this is your floor.”
Her mouth opens then snaps closed. She squares her shoulders and marches past me, two bright-pink spots on her cheeks. Adorable.
Even though I’m late for at least twenty meetings, I follow her off. Not because my body can’t be parted from hers. Certainly not because I have to know more about her. Just to torment her a bit more with my presence, now that she knows who I am.
“Ms. McDaniel, there you are,” Stu says. He’s waiting in front of the elevators--must’ve taken the stairs. Luis, SeCure’s chief security officer, stands with him.
“We’re getting maintenance up here right away, Mr. King.” Luis signals one of his men, who takes his place at the elevator to stop anyone from boarding. “We’ll have it fixed in no time, sir. And I see you escorted Ms. McDaniel. “
Stu glances guiltily at me. “I didn’t mean to leave her unattended like that. I took the stairs up to make sure I was here when she got off.” He makes it sound like he deserves a medal for his heroics.
I don’t answer.
“I’ve got her from here. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
“I’m going to sit in on
her interview,” I say, surprising even myself.
Both Stu and Kylie’s heads whip around, and they gape at me. Kylie flushes further and blinks her big brown eyes. In the light, they are a warm chocolate-brown with a starburst of gold in the middle. Incredible.
The alpha in me doesn’t mind her discomfort. I’m used to making people squirm. But my wolf isn’t happy about the tinge of anger in her scent. An apology is on my lips—another first. Jackson King doesn’t apologize. I don’t owe her one, either. If I had my way, I’d pull her into the nearest conference room, spank her ass for the whipping boy comment, and spend the next three hours teaching her pleasure at the tip of my tongue. I’d go down on her until her screams of pleasure told everyone in the building that’s she’s mine. That would take care of her annoyance, and her nervousness. Or is it arousal?
“Oh, it’s just a routine interview—no need to take up your time,” Stu says.
I’ll be damned if I let Stu—or any other male—get her alone.
Luis clears his throat, warning Stu he’s on the verge of pissing me off.
I narrow my eyes at Stu. “I decide how to spend my time. Shall we go into the conference room, or are we interviewing her here in the hallway?”
Stu scowls as if I busted up his frat party.
~.~
Kylie
Holy awkward, Batman. So much for acing the interview. I didn’t think it could go more wrong, but being caught in a tug of war between Stu and Jackson is another precious moment in this craptastic day. I can’t believe I just had a meltdown in front of Jackson King. And gushed like a schoolgirl about what type of nerd he was and whether he was gay, and oh God did I really insinuate that he whips his sexual partners? What the fuck is wrong with me? Not even Interviewing for Dummies can save me now.
Of course, he let me think he wasn’t the CEO. Kind of a dick move, really. I should be glaring at him, but no, I’m still flustered from him touching me. Too bad getting felt up by Jackson King isn’t one of the perks of the job.
Damn, I really, really want this. Groping aside, SeCure is the pinnacle of cybersecurity. As a teen, it was the ultimate hack. After almost ten years of hiding, it feels like coming home. Like I’ve trained my whole life to stand here, and now that I’ve gone legit, I can step into my rightful place.
The fact that I’d be working under Jackson King has nothing to do with it. Well, maybe a teensy, tiny bit. My body would certainly like to be under him—right now. Lordy, I have to get through the interview without imagining his hands on me...
The death stare between Stu and Jackson has gone on long enough.
“Where’s the conference room?” I chirp. I take several deep gulps of breath and follow Stu into a large conference room. I can do this. I’ve handled much more difficult things—major heists at the age of twelve, losing my mom and dad, being trapped in an air duct for ten hours… This is nothing. It’s only an interview.
I sit down, and the three men position themselves across from me. The chairs are big and plushy but barely accommodate Jackson’s muscular frame. He swivels a little, eyes on me. The man can intimidate even sitting down.
I allow myself a tiny frown in his direction. He lied to me. And now he’s making me interview with him, as if this day could get any more awkward.
He meets my glower with raised eyebrows.
Why, oh, why did I say all those things in the elevator? It was like I’d swallowed truth serum.
Maybe that is one of Jackson’s superpowers: making people tell him every thought that pops into their heads. I’ve never been so real with anyone in my life. I’ve told a million lies, but a little bit of comfort after a panic attack, and all my training fell away. My dad would lecture me—if he was still alive.
Stu shuffles some papers and shoves one toward Mr. King. “Here’s her resume,” he says. “You can see her qualifications are quite impressive.”
Stu definitely overstated my resume. Sure, I’d graduated summa cum laude with an IS degree from Georgetown—after convincing them to let me take all my classes online—but my work experience was writing code for the gaming company where I currently work. At least, the only work experience that was legal. There’s plenty of stuff I can’t mention. The result: I don’t look that impressive on paper.
“Her professors all gave her rave recommendations,” he goes on, seeming a little flustered.
Not half as flustered as I am, though. It doesn’t help that Jackson King gazes at me like he knows my life secrets. Now that’s a terrifying thought.
“Do you want to start?” Luis asks King.
King leans back in the chair and crosses his long, elegant legs. Damn. I’ve always drooled over his pictures online, but he’s even more handsome in person. Photos didn’t do him justice—not even the spread in Time Magazine when he was named “Man of the Year” for solving the world’s credit card fraud problems. Nothing about him says “geek” at all, actually. With thick dark hair, kept on the long, shaggy side, a square jaw, and jade-green eyes, he looks rugged. He also holds an air of danger, his power barely contained by his expensive suit.
He looks back at me, his face an inscrutable mask. “What do you know about infosec, Kylie?”
I lace my fingers together on the table. No sense being nervous. I blew any chance I had of winning this job when I called him a deviant sociopath in the elevator. He probably just wants payback, and making me sit through the most awkward interview in the history of the world is his preferred form of torture.
Fuck this. I’m not getting the job. Why stay and suffer?
I push my chair back and rise. “You know, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Stu shoots to his feet, looking angry. “Why not? Wait just a minute.”
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
Stu steps between me and the door, like he’s not going to let me go. His job must be on the line if he can’t fill this position. Not my problem, buddy. What’s he gonna do, body check me if I make a break for it?
“I think, actually, I screwed up this interview back in the elevator. So I’ll just see myself out. Thank you—”
“Sit down, Ms. McDaniel,” King commands, his deep resonant voice like steel.
I stop in my tracks. Damn, he’s even hotter when he’s stern. Like in the elevator, my body responds, nipples getting hard, pussy dampening.
His nostrils flare as if he can smell it. But that’s ridiculous. He’s still sitting, but there’s no question who holds the power in the room.
I reach for my chair, a bit wobbly. And not just because of my heels. “Yes, sir.” I sink back down.
“Thank you. I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”
Damn the man. He’s determined to make me suffer. I rub my thumbnail with the pad of my index finger` then drop my hands to my lap to stop fidgeting.
“Mr. King, I apologize for the things I said about you in the elevator—I was very rude and...disrespectful.”
King’s expression doesn’t change. He watches me with that cool assessment. “Answer the question.”
Okaaay. Guess he’s just going to ignore my apology. I’d fight back with sarcasm, but I promised myself I’d keep a lid on it. “My knowledge of infosec is mainly practical. You won’t see it on my resume, but I do know all areas of security—how to assess weak points, how to mask code. No code is impenetrable, except maybe yours.”
“How long would it take you to hack the average guy’s Gmail?”
I allow a tiny smirk to curve my lips. “That would be illegal, Mr. King.”
“So do you, or don’t you know how to hack?”
He knows. That’s my first thought. I shift in my chair. He’s figured out I’m Catgirl. No, that’s silly. All infosec professionals probably know how to hack. Maybe it’s a prerequisite. Like the way the home security companies hire busted burglars to improve their systems.
Not that a security system—physical or virtual—has ever been able to keep me out. Although my
skills might be a bit rusty. My cat burglary days died with my dad.
“If I knew how to hack, Mr. King, I certainly wouldn’t admit it here, and that’s why you won’t see it on paper. But if, in theory, I wanted to hack the average guy’s Gmail, it might take me ten to twenty minutes.”
Stu gives him a tight smile. “We do have a series of tests we’ll give Ms. McDaniel, after the interview.” He returns his attention to me. “Now, why don’t you tell us about your programming experience?”
King looks as bored as I feel as I rattle off my programming accomplishments. Luis grills with all the standard kinds of interview questions: Do I work well under pressure? On a team? Am I willing to work nights and overtime when necessary? How do I feel about relocating to Tucson from Phoenix?
I answer automatically, studying Jackson King without making it obvious. He hasn’t asked another question. What’s he thinking? Is he still mad about what I said in the elevator?
“Do you have any questions for us?” Luis asks.
“How many candidates are interviewing for the position?”
Stu shuffles his papers as the other two men look to him for the answer. “Three.”
“When do you expect I’ll hear something?” Probably a bit presumptuous, but presumption is all I have left.
“In a few days. We’re interviewing everyone today.”
“Better get that elevator fixed, then,” I quip, my voice lighter than I feel.
Stu stands. “Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to an office for the test.”
Thank God. Tests I can handle. I don’t dare look at King as I stand, my cheeks still burning. Ducking my head, I follow Stu. When I get to the door, I risk a glance.
King’s looking at me, his lips quirking at the edges.
Sadist. He enjoyed making me squirm.
~.~
Jackson
I watch Kylie’s long muscular calves strut out of the room, her ass a perfect heart-shape in the short, fitted skirt. My wolf is still going nuts, snarling to get out. I’ve never let him get so out of control, especially not in the office. But there’s never been a temptation like Kylie.