“You want to watch?” she asks. She runs a languid hand across her pussy lips, more teasing than anything.
“For now.”
“Mmm.” She makes a small growl of pleasure, her breasts bobbing as she reaches between her legs, her hand more insistent now.
I watch as she slips one finger inside, slowly working at herself, her thumb finding her clit. Another growl of pleasure from her, her hand working faster.
This is so fucking hot that my brain is about to explode into flames and send fire sizzling down every one of my nerve endings.
She slips another finger in, her hand speeding up, groans falling from her lips even as she bites down to keep them inside.
My own hand is working nearly as fast even though my cock is still trapped behind too many layers of fabric. Don’t fucking do it, I warn my oncoming climax. Watch her.
My iron control is rewarded when she comes with a scream that rattles the windows, her skin pink and damp all over, just like the deep, delicate folds of her pussy. Her breasts quiver deliciously with every shuddering breath, and I’m transported by the sight.
Jesus God, just remembering this could keep me hot in a blizzard.
But when she opens her eyes, the entire scene shifts. No longer is she a slave to her pleasure. No, now she’s fully in control.
Her next words cement that notion: “I want to see you.”
Chapter 15
He might have bought a huge stake in my company today, but he’s the one who’s given up more than he knows.
I’m in his room, and while I might be the naked one, he’s exposed himself by bringing me here. And I’m going to crack him open even further until I’m as deeply burrowed within his thoughts as he is in mine.
My skin is flushed and glowing with my orgasm; the aftershocks still pulsing through me make me feel powerful.
“I want to see you,” I demand.
For the first time, I catch him off guard. His eyes flicker as his chest tenses, throwing his amazing pecs into even sharper relief.
He reaches for the hem of his shirt with eagerness. I feel like we’ve crossed some kind of bridge here in his bedroom with him getting naked for me without even a hint of hesitation. It wasn’t that he was hiding something or that he didn’t want me to see him naked—it was only that it had to really matter.
I gasp, partly at his amazing chest and arms, which are now exposed, and partly at my own realization. This isn’t simply sex between us, not that it ever really was. Each step that we take from now on will lead us deeper into what we’re becoming together.
I stalk closer to him, holding out my hand to touch. His skin is hot, almost feverish, the muscle beneath as tense as the cables holding up the Golden Gate Bridge. There’s some hair, just enough to be delightfully prickly.
“Your body is amazing.”
He’s holding his breath, perhaps to hold himself back from kissing me, but he pulls in a rasping lungful to answer. “The gym helps me think.”
“Mmm.” I press my fingers hard into the wall of muscle, letting my nails scratch slightly. “You must spend a lot of time thinking.”
He doesn’t even smile. His jaw is way too tight for that. All that desire, all that power, and he’s only barely holding it back.
I run my index finger down his chest, along his abs, and follow the trail of hair that disappears into his waistband. He’s breathing again, hard, serrated pants that reveal how thin his control really is.
I tap the buckle of his belt with my nail, snick snick snick. He jumps with every touch.
“All of it, please,” I say.
I lean back to give him room. He can’t take his eyes off me as he jerks off his pants and then his boxer briefs, his gaze like green fire. It makes me think of dragons and knights and maidens being ravished.
He’s no knight and I’m no maiden, but he’s definitely about to ravish me.
When he sprawls back in the chair in all his naked glory, my knees go weak. His abs are chiseled like a Greek statue’s, his thighs are like tree trunks, and his cock…
I swallow hard. I’ve had his cock deep within me, yet seeing it for the first time is still a shock. He’s got the cock of a sex god, thick and long, the veins stark as they run up his shaft to the swollen purple head. His balls are heavy and weighty beneath their nest of hair.
The sight isn’t beautiful, not at all. It’s powerful and primal and raw, the same as how he fucks.
I drop to one knee, then the other, bracing myself on his thighs. His cock bobs and hardens right before my eyes. Wetness collects in my pussy, slicks my thighs. I press my knees hard together, my clit jumping as I do.
Mark’s hands find the arms of the chair and dig in deep. My own fingers dig into his thighs, bracing us both as I lean forward and take his cock in my mouth.
Blow jobs have never been a favorite of mine. I feel stupid on my knees, my mouth full, and sometimes the taste… isn’t to my taste.
Giving Mark a blow job is another thing entirely. My mouth is full of him, he tastes like pure sex, and the grunts he’s making land right in my clit, bam bam bam. I tighten my thighs and increase the pressure. Lord, it’s like he’s fingering me without even touching me.
He doesn’t grab my head or my neck—which is something I hate. Mark, the man who can have the entire tech world tremble with a frown, simply grips the chair and lets me set the pace and depth. The muscles in his thighs shake under my hands, his cock swelling and jerking as I take him deep, then draw back, then take him deep again.
My clit is aching now, my thighs stretched to the breaking point as I squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. A low thrum takes hold of my clit, deep pulses of pleasure spreading throughout me.
Holy crap, I’m going to have an orgasm while giving him a blow job.
I come up for a quick breath of air, to grab my bearings, but Mark is too fast. He pulls me into his lap, my thighs straddling his. His fingers find my pussy, push deep, even as his teeth find my nipple.
My scream is even louder this time because this orgasm comes on so fast, so hard, it almost hurts. But it’s the best kind of pain.
The afterglow has barely started when he takes my knee and drapes it over the arm of the chair, doing the same with the other. The arms are low enough that it’s still comfortable, but I’m completely exposed, unable to easily move my hips.
He’s going to have to take the lead here, which I’m sure was his intention all along.
Mark wraps a hand around my nape, holding me steady. He’s found a condom somewhere and already put it on. His other hand is at my hip, his cock pushing forward, filling me, the position making the sensation almost too much to bear.
He says nothing as he moves, surging into me, then retreating, then returning to fill me again. He only holds my nape and my gaze, the intensity there threatening to burn me.
But I am burning, all of me surrendering to the heat between us as he pumps into me, grunting his pleasure with every thrust. Our skin slaps together, his thighs against mine, his balls against my ass. It’s all so raw, so primal, but so intimate at the same time.
When he comes, his body shuddering with his release, I come too. This last orgasm is as intense as the others and leaves me completely wrung out.
I fold over him, grateful for his strong arms that grab me. I don’t have to worry about staying upright when he’s here to catch me.
“My sweet January,” he whispers in my ear.
I’m too far gone after my third orgasm to answer him. Instead, I press my face deeper into his neck, tasting the salt on his skin and smelling the musk clinging to both of us.
Mark gathers me close and carries me to the bed. “Get some sleep,” he says as he tucks me in.
Some sputter through my brain makes me open my mouth. He needs to stay with me, only I can’t make my mouth work. I’m already drifting into dreams.
But then his arm comes around me, my back meeting his chest as he tucks me under his chin.
Finally
things are perfect.
So I sleep.
Chapter 16
Work is amazing today. The weather is amazing today. Everything is just fucking amazing.
When Finn comes into my office, I smile at him, thinking he’s here to shoot the shit. Sounds good to me too.
And then he’s followed by Paul, Elliot, and Dev—but not Logan—and my mood turns in an instant, because I already know what they’re here for.
“I thought we agreed January and I being together wouldn’t be a problem,” I say flatly.
Finn spins around a chair and straddles it. “You sleeping with her isn’t a problem. You falling in love with her…” He waggles a finger. “Now that’s a problem.”
Love. That’s not what I feel for January. It can’t be. Except my heart keeps doing weird things while the word love keeps echoing through my brain.
“She’s not like Callie.” That’s way too defensive, but it’s true. And that’s really what they’re worried about—that I’ll end up like Logan, married and miserable.
“No, we know that,” Finn says. They all nod along. “Shit, Callie wouldn’t even walk into the offices, much less talk shop with us. She made it clear Logan was hers, not ours. But… but if she leaves you, we can’t have two zombies walking around here.”
Logan’s not a zombie, but he is pretty fucked up, thanks to his wife. “I’m not in love with January.”
“You had a thing for her in college,” Paul says softly.
“None of us are who we were in college,” I say. “We’ve all been through too much since. Together.”
“We don’t think you’ll end up like Logan,” Dev says. “But… we want to consul caution here—“
“We don’t want you to get hurt,” Finn cuts in bluntly.
My heart does some more weird things, because I really do love these guys. I’d never say so openly, because that’s mushy bullshit, which we don’t do, but the emotion is there. I’d kill for them, and they’d do the same for me.
“January and I both know the score here.” Love, my idiot subconscious says. Stupid fucking hindbrain. “I’ve got it under control. I’ve seen Logan too.”
Elliot clears his throat. “All that being said, she seems incredibly sharp.”
A look passes between all of them.
“Hell, you fuckers actually like her,” I say, realization dawning.
“Well, yeah, we like her,” Paul says. “But we like you better.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet. I feel so loved.”
Finn rolls his eyes as he gets up. “Forget it. I told you this asshole wouldn’t appreciate our efforts.”
“No, come on guys, group hug,” I call as they head for the door. “Hey, wait.”
The seriousness of my tone has them stopping.
“Something’s got January spooked. I can’t tell what, but… there’s something there.”
Dev’s gaze is darkly intense. “Background research didn’t bring anything up?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. But if you could keep an ear out for anything, I’d appreciate it. I don’t want her…”
I stop before I reveal too much about how I care for January.
These guys have always known me too well though.
“Don’t want her to be scared? Or upset?” Paul asks. Understanding softens his expression.
“Yeah,” is all I say.
They don’t say anything more—no more teasing or insults—they all just nod as one. My brothers, agreeing to help protect my lady.
Once they’re gone, I grab my coat and head up to the City, eager to see January. Because I can’t stop thinking about how hot she is, not because I’m in love with her or any shit like that.
When I arrive in SoMa, Roasted Café is hopping at lunchtime, like usual.
This is the place to see and be seen in the tech world—I count at least ten CEOs sitting in here, a couple of VCs, and of course dozens of start-up founders, all looking to catch the eye of a CEO or VC. I’m only here to grab some coffee and a bagel for January before I head over to the Ultra offices, not looking to meet new talent.
In a corner table, I spy Arne Fuchs nursing a cup of coffee along with some of his employees. Arne, who’s very invested in his routines, has lunch here every day at twelve thirty. The staff know to keep that table clear for him.
The employees he’s invited along are there to defend their projects from his keen eye. This won’t be a restful lunch for them, not with Arne picking apart every last detail they give him.
If he’s eating alone, it means none of his staff have impressed him enough to get an invite. I wonder what his employees would say was worse: getting invited or being left out. I haven’t done a deal with him before, because he’s a weird fucker and supposedly a high-functioning sociopath—I don’t want to deal with his issues.
But if the price were right for Ultra, I could handle whatever weird shit he’s into, as long as it came with a cool billion or two.
I grab January’s coffee from the counter and head out. But on my way to the door, Fuchs waves me over to his table.
For a moment I’m tempted to wave back and keep going. Fuck him if he thinks he can summon me like one of his minions. But then I get my temper under control. I need to be good cop here in case he’s got something interesting for me.
Or if I might have something interesting for him.
The knot of employees around him scatters as I approach. He must have told them to get lost. They look relieved to be leaving.
“Hey, Arne.” I don’t sit down because I don’t want January’s coffee to get cold.
Fuchs stares up at me like he’s been trained to make eye contact rather than it coming naturally. As far as tech dudes go, he’s one of the weirder ones. There’s rumors that he’s obsessed with living forever and he tries every life-extension trick out there: caloric restriction, sleeping in a special pressure chamber, and even getting a blood transfusion from a younger source every few days.
If that’s what it takes to live forever, I’ll take a shorter, happier life span any day.
Weirdness isn’t a deal breaker here in the valley though. Arne has been behind several billion-dollar launches, and Corvus is currently rumored to be worth several billion—he can obsess over living forever all he wants and still be welcomed in our circles, as long he keeps making that kind of money.
“Mark,” he says slowly. “I enjoyed the party.”
I don’t think he did, but manners are manners. “Great. What did you need?” There’s no need for chitchat, not when we’re only acquaintances at best. I lift the coffee cup. “I’m kind of in a rush.”
His expression flickers, possibly because we’re all in a rush. Or maybe because he thinks I ought to be more grateful for his attention. Fuchs is not a conversationalist—if he takes time to speak with you, it’s supposedly a big deal.
Well, I’m a big deal around here too. I keep my smile fixed and a touch vague, the better to hurry him along.
“Where are you off to?”
I can’t tell if Fuchs is generally curious or if he’s only practicing his human interaction. “We’ve recently invested in Ultra. I’m off to mind the shop.”
There’s nothing in his expression, not even a flicker. “Yes, I did see. Congratulations. Or rather, congratulations to the company. You have a knack for choosing winners.”
I incline my head, because I’m not going to be falsely modest—I really do. “January Harris, the founder—she’s onto something big.”
Here’s the point where Fuchs should show his hand, because this is the real reason he’s called me over. Corvus has been picking up encryption companies lately, and it looks like maybe he’s got an interest in Ultra. It’s way too soon to be thinking about an offer, but that doesn’t matter. The game only requires a mild show of interest here.
Except Fuchs doesn’t know how to play the game. He does nothing at all except go back to his coffee. “I won’t keep you waiting then.”
I don’t roll my eyes, although the urge is strong. It’s not his fault he’s better at coding and terrifying his employees than speaking the secret language of deals in Silicon Valley. He’s a weirdo, sure, especially with the life-extension stuff, but otherwise mostly harmless. His money is as good as the next CEO’s and maybe even better when it comes to Ultra.
“See you,” I say, then head for the door.
But mentally I stick Corvus in my potential buyer file for Ultra. We’ve got a lot of work still to do before that, but that’s not going to stop me from thinking several moves ahead.
Chapter 17
Mark isn’t here, which makes me sad.
And that makes me irritated. It’s my office, my company—of course he isn’t here. Which is good, because I have tons of work to do. Except I’m not doing it.
Instead, I’m browsing through the Bletchley Circle group, trying to solve a few of the easier codes. I’ve been so busy with Ultra that I’m out of practice. Turns out that working on encryption in real life isn’t so helpful with encryption games.
I’m distracted too since my brain keeps forcing me to look at the front door, just in case Mark is on his way. I woke up in his bed this morning, with his arms around me, and now I’m staring at the door like a teenager.
Okay, so I might be falling for him. Which feels giddy and amazing, but it’s also a terrible, stupid thing to do.
Yes, he’s into me. Very into me. But once my encryption system sells, will that be it?
I don’t want it to end then, but I have no idea how he might feel.
Doc pops her head into my cubicle. “Have you seen the new building they have for us?”
I summon a smile and try not to look at the door. The new office is another extravagance, an entire floor in a high-rise with stunning views of the bay, and Blue Bottle not half a block away, along with several high-end cafés favored by the tech elite. We’re moving to a deluxe apartment in the sky, as the song goes.
“It’s amazing.”
“Um, yeah.” Doc shakes her head. She can’t understand why I’m not more excited. And I am; I’m just more excited by whatever’s happening between Mark and me. “I’ve been going over the floor plan, and I’ve already got everything mapped out. Do you think we’ll want a server farm?”
Secret Acquisitions Page 11
