by Sabrina York
He scrubbed a palm over his face. “Katherine. How long have you worked here?”
She frowned. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he count every second he spent in her presence? She did. “Two years.” Two years, three months, four days and, oh, fifteen minutes.
“Two years.” He glanced down at the floor. “You’ve known me for two years. Do you think you could find it in your heart to call me Adam?” He shot her a contrite grin. “Mr. Trillo was my dad.”
A red-hot rush climbed her face. Call him Adam? She shook her head, a panicked little twitch. “But you’re my boss.”
“So is Tristan.”
Yeah. Okay. They owned the company. But Tristan was Tristan and Adam was…Mr. Trillo.
“I don’t report to Tristan.”
He shot her a sizzling look that could be construed as dark humor or annoyance. Or perhaps a combination of both.
“Fine.” He blew out a breath. “If you’re more comfortable Mr. Trilloing me then so be it. It was worth a shot. But in the future, if you could consider calling me Adam, I’d appreciate it.”
Katherine twined her fingers together. “Yes sir,” she whispered.
He pinned her with his gaze a minute longer. Something akin to disappointment limned his expression. Then he sighed and left her office.
Collapsing into her chair, Katherine glared dispiritedly at her beloved burrito.
Her appetite had evaporated completely.
She thought about that conversation with Adam all morning and Katherine wasn’t quite sure why. It hadn’t been overly personal or confrontational. He had simply asked her to use his given name. But there had been something there in the air, an undertone, the haunting memory of last night’s dream, perhaps, that had shaken her. Or maybe it had been that sad expression in his eyes.
Whatever. If Katherine was going to protect herself from Adam’s fatal allure and maintain the emotional distance she’d worked so hard to build and preserve, the last thing she needed was to get all chummy with him. She didn’t trust herself to get all chummy with him. It was bad enough that somehow Adam and Savage had become all tangled up in her mind.
Keeping her personal life and her work separate had never been a problem. Until today. For some reason today, whenever she drifted into a Savage fantasy, as she often did, it was Adam’s face she saw.
The last thing she needed was to forget herself, to say something, do something that let on how she really felt about him. That would be a disaster of epic proportions. For one thing, she would be mortified if he knew, if he suspected she was infatuated with him. But even worse, such a revelation—the discomfort, the issues, the prejudice it would engender—could scuttle her career with Trillo–Maris. Harsh experience had taught her that much at least.
In an attempt to rein in her rampant imagination, Katherine embraced her tried-and-true method of the good old emotional button-up. Her work. She slid into a complex analysis involving several interlinked Excel spreadsheets.
The project had her so engrossed she would have worked through lunch if her friend Jenny hadn’t knocked on the door, waggling a brown bag, luring her to their usual picnic in the courtyard. Katherine waved her off with a lame excuse. She didn’t have the fortitude for Jenny’s chatter. Not today. Instead she ate at her desk, allowing her work to command every ort of her attention.
She was so absorbed it was nearly time to go home when she remembered she was supposed to install the VoIP software for Savage.
For their date.
For tonight.
How on earth could she have forgotten?
Though, while the prospect of finally hearing Savage’s voice excited her, there was always the possibility he might sound like a munchkin on helium. The latter would, no doubt, ruin the fantasy. Was she willing to risk it? Just so she could have both hands free?
She contemplated the conundrum—like, for a second—and decided that yes, it was worth it.
So she went in search of Jack Maris.
In normal circumstances, Jack was the last person in the world she would go to—for anything. But if she wanted to get a copy of that application for her laptop, she would have to talk to Adam or Jack. And she wasn’t going to talk to Adam. Yikes. The thought gave her palpitations.
Oh, Jack was a nice guy—most of the time—but he did have his issues. As cofounder and lead programmer for Trillo–Maris, he was the definitive computer geek, right down to all the classic stereotypes—brilliant code writing, superiority complex, extreme social insecurity, obsession with prefabricated microwavable sandwich pockets. The usual. When it came to women, he was stuck in adolescence, weebling between painful shyness and clueless, cheesy come-ons.
She really wasn’t looking forward to this.
But Savage was worth it.
He’d damn well better appreciate it.
She found Jack in the lunchroom, nuking a cardboard-flavored sandwich in the microwave.
“Hey, Jack.”
His eyes widened behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “Hey, hot stuff. What’s the haps?”
Katherine didn’t roll her eyes but just barely. “I was wondering if you could help me out.”
Jack sidled closer and she caught a whiff of…onions? “What do you need, baby?” He waggled his bushy eyebrows.
Dear God. This was going to be difficult. Katherine sucked in a deep breath—a huge mistake. Jack’s eyes locked on to her breasts and boggled. He licked his lips and the tips of his ears went red.
Katherine quickly adopted her most professional demeanor. “I need to get a copy of the VoIP software for my laptop.”
In a heartbeat, his expression morphed from expectant to suspicious. He put out his lower lip. “Did Adam ask you to run a program analysis?”
She hesitated. She could lie and say yes but that might send Jack running to Adam to whine about “being spied on” like the last time Adam had ordered a program analysis of one of Jack’s projects. She would hate for Adam to think of her as a liar, so she opted for the truth. Part of the truth. “No. I just need a VoIP. I researched it and discovered yours is the best.”
Jack preened like a proud, portly peacock. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want the original version or the beta?”
Katherine shrugged. Whatever. Computer nerd words made her brain hurt. “It doesn’t matter.”
Crossing his arms over his doughy chest, he stared at her. Katherine could see the tiny wheels turning in his overheated brain. His eyes narrowed and he pinned her with a hungry stare. “Here’s the way I see it. If Adam didn’t order it and I go ahead and give you the beta, I’d be doing you a huge favor.”
Uh oh.
“And if I’m doing you a huge favor, it stands to reason you should reciprocate.”
Double uh oh.
Katherine frowned. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How about a date?”
Every atom in her being simultaneously cringed. “No.” She cut an unequivocal negatory slash with her hand. “No date.”
“Oh come on, Katherine!” His whine was high-pitched, like a mosquito. She was overcome with the urge to swat him. “Just one lousy date.”
“Nope.” She headed for the door. She was not—repeat, not—going on a date with Jack Maris. She’d get the damn software at the frickin’ software store. Wherever the heck that was. Damn it all. She’d be late for her date again tonight, assuming she could even find the program. Assuming she could figure out how to install the thing, but still…
“Okay. Okay.” The capitulation in his tone slowed her retreat. “Hows about this. You dance with me at the company dinner next month.”
“Dance with you?” The thought made all the little hairs on her arm stand on end.
“Just one dance.” He ogled the general direction of her chest.
Ewww.
But still, balanced against the potential bliss she could experience with Savage tonight, the sacrifice of one short dan
ce with Jack didn’t seem so steep a price to pay.
Did it?
Katherine crossed her arms, you know, over her chest, and blew out a sigh. “All right.”
“Yee-haw!” he bellowed. He actually bellowed.
“Keep it down, will you?”
“Oh, I dunno.” Jack waggled his brows seductively—well, in a manner he clearly thought was seductive. “It’s hard to keep a good man down.” He chortled at his own pathetic joke but the laughter petered away when he noticed Katherine’s expression. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you get it?”
“Yes, Jack. I got it.”
“See, ‘cause that was a reference to my sexual virility.”
“Yes, Jack. I see that.”
He studied her for a minute, his eyes magnified by the thick glass of his spectacles. Then he grunted. “Are you trying to say that ‘you can’t keep a good man down’ isn’t a good pick-up line?”
“That’s exactly what I am trying to say.” Gadzooks, he was clueless when it came to women. Like, really clueless.
“Huh.” He pulled a crumpled memo pad from the back pocket of his jeans and a pen from his pocket protector. He riffled the mangled pages until he found a scribbled list and drew a line through one of the items, muttering to himself.
“Jack.” Ruthlessly, she dragged him back to the conversation. Well, the one between the two of them. He could finish his conversation with himself later. She had things to do and was on a short clock. “Can you install it now?”
“As soon as I’m done with my dinner.”
And on that note, the microwave dinged.
Dinner, such as it was, was served.
Chapter Four
To her delight, Katherine made it home in time for her date with Savage, the VoIP software installed on her laptop. She kicked off her shoes, poured herself a glass of wine and slipped into her teddy, all the while trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach.
Only a few of the butterflies were due to her promise to dance with Jack at the company banquet—and they were all a little nauseated. The rest of them were for Savage. She’d done a fair job of ignoring her trepidation as Jack installed the software and tested it and she’d managed to distract herself during the ride home by singing all the songs on the radio at the top of her lungs. But now she was here, nestled all snug in her bed, in her teddy, with her wine in hand…
Now it was time.
The moment of truth.
Now she could no longer ignore the niggling of panic in her gut.
She was going to hear his voice tonight. Tonight he would whisper sweet nothings and groan his delight. What would he sound like?
What’s more, he would hear her voice. He would hear her moans when she could hold them back no longer, her panting breaths as she came. He would know so much more about her. She would be so much more vulnerable.
Why did that prospect make her clit start to throb?
Could it be she wanted to be vulnerable to him? Open to his touch? Did she want to succumb completely? The prospect both thrilled and frightened her. Not that she didn’t trust him. She did.
It was her own passion she didn’t trust.
She had a history of skulking to the edge of abandon and then scurrying back to safety. What kind of disaster would it be to pull him along with her, right to the brink of completion, and then yank him back? She couldn’t bear the thought of failing him, betraying him like that.
She was so nervous she almost didn’t turn on her computer.
But she did.
Of course she did.
Sipping her wine as the beast went through its interminable boot-up process, she waited, trembling. Lordy, she was a wreck. She needed to shore up her quivering courage or she would just reach out and turn off the machine.
There was nothing for it.
She poured herself another glass of wine.
Thusly fortified, she logged on.
A new, unfamiliar chime sounded and Katherine jumped, sloshing her wine onto the bedspread. She peeped at her laptop and her heart pounded. She had a private message. It was Savage. He was waiting for her.
With only a moment’s hesitation, she clicked on the box that locked them in a room, alone, together, somewhere in the vast reaches of the internet.
SAVAGE: You’re here.
WILDKAT: Yes. I’m here.
SAVAGE: Did you get the software?
WILDKAT: Yes.
There was a long pause before he responded.
SAVAGE: Are you ready to do this?
WILDKAT: I think so. I’m a little nervous.
SAVAGE: Me too. Get yourself a drink. It makes it easier.
WILDKAT: Way ahead of you, stud. I’m all over that like a duck on a june bug.
SAVAGE: What?
WILDKAT: Oh, haven’t you ever heard that saying? It’s pretty big in the Midwest. Apparently ducks love to eat june bugs. They snap ‘em up like crazy.
SAVAGE: I did not know that.
WILDKAT: Yup. Yup.
Another long pause. She hunted for something to say.
SAVAGE: So… What are you drinking?
WILDKAT: Wine. And you?
SAVAGE: Whiskey. Neat.
It was boring. It was small talk. It was boring small talk. But they both allowed it. Most likely because they were both nervous about taking this next, enormous step in their relationship. After this there could be no going back. This would either deepen their bond or end it and they both knew it.
SAVAGE: Well, no sense delaying the inevitable.
WILDKAT: It doesn’t have to be the inevitable though. Does it?
SAVAGE: What do you mean?
WILDKAT: We could stick with the status quo.
SAVAGE: Typing with one hand?
WILDKAT: We could…
SAVAGE: I can’t do that anymore, Kat. I need to hear your voice. I need to hear you whisper to me as I rub my cock. I need to hear you tell me what you want. I’m dying to hear you beg me for mercy. Please don’t deny me. Not now. Not when we’re so close.
WILDKAT: I’m just afraid.
SAVAGE: Of what?
WILDKAT: That you won’t like my voice.
SAVAGE: Do you sound like a cartoon character?
WILDKAT: LOL. No.
SAVAGE: If you don’t sound like Betty Boop or my mom, we should be okay. Those two voices kind of throw me off my game.
WILDKAT: I can imagine.
SAVAGE: So are you ready?
Katherine sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Ready? Not hardly.
WILDKAT: Okay.
SAVAGE: Let’s do it.
Together, they switched on the VoIP software and the brash new chime sounded again. Katherine held her breath as a new tone filled the room, a low hum with a touch of static.
“Hello?”
Katherine sucked in a breath, nearly weeping in relief. No helium-sucking munchkin, this. His voice was deep and resonant. It felt warm. Familiar. The word rumbled through her.
“Savage,” she whispered, breathless, aquiver.
“Ohh.” His low moan was like a shard of lust spearing her womb. “God. Wildkat. You sound so sexy.”
“No Betty Boop?”
“Not hardly. God. I’m glad we did this.”
“Me too.” She was. But she was still mighty nervous. It was as though they’d never had a conversation before, as though they’d just met. As if they were starting from scratch.
“Um. How was your day?” She grimaced. How lame was that? “Sorry.”
He chuckled. The sound resonated and Katherine decided then and there to ask Jack Maris if the VoIP came, perchance, with surround sound.
“It’s okay.” Humor laced his tone. “This is kind of new for both of us.”
“Raw.”
“Yeah.”
The lull in the conversation stretched into an uncomfortable silence. She could feel the connection between them slipping away, overpowered by their nervous tension. A ball formed in Katherine’s gut. No! No! s
he wailed to herself. Don’t let it die. Don’t let this happen.
She said the first thing that came into her head. “You have a really sexy voice too.”
He didn’t respond right away and her panic surged. When he spoke, his words sent her heart shuttling into overdrive. “God, Kat. You make me so hard.”
She smiled, a big, broad, self-satisfied smirk. She aroused him. That made her feel so powerful. Wicked. “Do I?” She took a sip of wine, fiddled with her hair. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“It’s your voice. You could recite the phone book to me and I think I’d come.”
“Pity I don’t have a phone book.”
“Why don’t you…improvise?” The breathless tone of his voice made her shiver. She had no doubt he was stroking his cock as they talked.
The thought of Savage out there somewhere, bringing himself to orgasm to the sound of her voice, made her pussy twitch. She settled back on the bed and let her hand trail up under her teddy, into the soft curls at the apex of her thighs, teasing herself.
“Mmm. Do you know what I’m doing?”
“What?”
“I’m stroking my pussy.”
He made a strangled sound followed by a harsh groan. “Kat. Kat. This is so much more intense than reading about you stroking your pussy. Hearing you say it makes me crazy. I don’t know how long I can take it.”
She snorted. “You’d better take it, buster. After what you put me through last night? You’d better not go off all half-cocked.”
“Funny.”
“I mean it, Savage. I want you to feel what I felt. Last night I was in agony.”
“You loved it. Didn’t you?” When she didn’t respond, he repeated the question, this time harsher. “Didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I did.”
“Did you think about it today? At work?”
She frowned. She’d been busy all day. She had deliberately put last night’s tryst from her mind so she could focus on work. “I tried not to.”
“Why?”
“You know why. Because if I let myself think about you at work, I’d spend the whole day finger-fucking myself in the bathroom.”
