Hardwired (The Hardwired Series) (Volume 1) (5 page)

I wanted nothing more than to drag Blake into my room and fuck him senseless, but I knew better.

“It’s quite simple. You can’t.”

I turned away and fumbled in my purse for the key. The next minute his body was behind me, and a warm and possessive arm circled my waist. I closed my eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, reeling at the sudden contact. He swept the hair away from my neck, brushing a soft kiss behind my ear. My vision went white and I pressed my hands against the door for balance.

“See you tomorrow,” he said with a shaky breath.

I turned and he was gone. He disappeared down the hall and into the elevator. I leaned into the door, cursing myself and wishing he had stayed as much as I needed him to go. My fingers trembled but I finally found the key…and the chip next to it.

The door latched closed, and my eyes shot open. The room was pitch black, but the big digital clock on the end table read eight o’clock. The faint outline of a woman inched quietly toward the adjacent bed. Her neon dress nearly glowed in the dark.

“Alli?”

“It’s me.”

“Are you just getting in?” I rubbed my eyes, and slowly the details of my current reality were dawning.

“Yes, Mother,” she said sarcastically.

I switched on the bedside lamp, bringing her into focus. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” I leaned back on my elbows and smiled. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, which was almost true. Her mascara was smudged and her hair was in a state I’d never seen in public—only a few degrees below perfect.

“Ugh, I can feel you judging me.” She kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the bed still dressed.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” I was now fully awake, which surprised me considering the current hour and my minimal R.E.M. sleep.

“What do you want to know?” she mumbled into the bedspread.

“Every sordid detail, obviously.”

Alli flipped herself over and stared listlessly at the ceiling. “I really like him.”

I thought I heard a sigh.
Oh no.

“Jesus, Alli, please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

“What the hell do you care?” She slapped her hands down to her sides.

I bolted out of bed and met her glare. “I care, Alli, because I’m trying to project a professional image with our company, and I didn’t expect you to screw Blake’s brother. Now he’ll tell Blake, and oh shit...” I calculated all the possible implications of this indiscretion.

“Stop right there. I told him you would freak out if Blake knew, so he gave me his word.”

“Unbelievable.” I walked over to open the shades to our room.

Alli cringed as light poured in.

“Well, what about you? I half expected to walk in on you two, the way he was eye-fucking you all night.”

“Alli, seriously. There is absolutely nothing between Blake and me.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. I can’t screw up this deal. I told him last night that I wasn’t interested. End of story.”

“Blake doesn’t strike me as the type who hears the word ‘no’ frequently. Also, you didn’t tell me he was drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous or not, I’m here to work.”

“Erica, are you really mad at me about this?” She pouted her bottom lip a little.

Here came the guilt. “It’ll be fine. Just get some sleep. I’d be great if you could do a little networking today since we’re flying out tomorrow.” I couldn’t let her off the hook completely.

I wanted to be angry with Alli, but in truth, I was mostly worried for her. I’d given her the opportunity to let her guard down around Heath, who was likely a master womanizer.

I escaped to the bathroom where I silently fumed under the steady pressure of the shower. Determined to put the situation out of my mind, I focused instead on possible questions for the panel.

When I returned, Alli was fast asleep under the duvet. I dressed in our pre-approved outfit, a stylish black patterned blouse and bright white blazer with dark straight jeans. I slipped into the black pumps Alli had left at the foot of the bed and grabbed my bag. Time to work.
Without any back up, again
, I thought.
I might as well get used to this.

* * *

You’re not supposed to be here.

Sometimes I really hated the little voice in my head. As I read the name cards set out for the panelists, my anxiety shot into overdrive. I would be shoulder-to-shoulder with a star-studded cast of tech CEOs, veritable celebrities in the technology world. My anxiety shifted into overdrive and nausea threatened.

Reeling, I dropped into my seat and surveyed the room, which was already filling with hundreds of eager conference attendees.

My mind raced as I fumbled for my notes, wishing I could be anywhere else. Just as full panic was setting in, Blake took a seat next to me, looking delicious in a gray V-neck shirt and jeans.

“What are you doing here?” I sounded more exasperated than I meant to.

“Good morning to you too.”

He gave me a smile, and my body relaxed a little, maybe from the sheer relief of seeing a familiar face in this crowd. Plus his mouth on me last night was not nearly a distant memory yet.

Everything about this trip so far had been unexpected—running into Blake last night and Alli’s understandable but problematic fascination with his brother. Now here I was with Blake again, sitting in the presence of geeky greatness.

After letting my wheels turn a bit he finally responded. “I’m moderating the panel.”

My mouth opened, but the questions of how and why stuck in my throat. There was only one logical reason why.

“You did this.”

“Did what?”

I glared, wishing I could level him with my stare.

“You had me invited here, to speak on this panel.”

“I don’t think I can take all the credit. You’re a significant competitor in the social space. That’s what you told us at the meeting, right?” He leaned back into his seat the same way he had at the pitch, eyeing me cautiously.

“Yes, that
is
what I said.” I swallowed hard, incensed that Blake would toy with me this way.

“Well, then, you shouldn’t be worried about sitting up here with the big boys. You’ll do fine.” He turned to his smart phone.

I had caught Blake’s eye, and now he had drawn me into this game of professional cat and mouse. How long could this go on? Until I slept with him? Until my company suffered inexplicable damage? In the meantime, how the hell was I going to get through this panel where I was completely out of my league?

The room was filled and the other panelists sat down around us. I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my temples to stave off the tension headache coming on.

“You don’t like being challenged?”

I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, his beautiful green eyes appraising me cautiously. He was pushing me and something snapped.

“I like being challenged, Blake. I don’t like being sabotaged.” I strained to keep our conversation audible only to us. Maybe in his mind, Blake was challenging me, but it didn’t feel like that on my end. I had plenty of self-doubt, but when someone obviously underestimated me, the gloves came off. I had worked tirelessly, given him no reason to doubt me or my abilities.

“Trust me. If I wanted to humiliate you, you wouldn’t be here.”

“You have real fucking nerve.” My voice echoed through the room. The emcee had turned the microphone system on, and all eyes were on me.
Shit.
I sat all the way back in my seat, wishing I could disappear into the floor. Apparently I didn’t need Blake to humiliate me. I could do that fine on my own.

The emcee quickly recovered the moment and proceeded to introduce the panelists and the moderator, the esteemed Blake Landon. I cringed at the sound of his name and the applause that followed, but I needed to pull myself together. Shooting daggers at Blake would not get me through this panel. He would be guiding the conversation, and I had just very publicly cursed him out.

I straightened in my seat and steeled myself with a few deep breaths, willing myself to relax and focus. The panel started with introductions, which went well since I had practiced mine no less than fifty times on the flight here. From there, Blake asked a handful of prepared questions, directing them to the appropriate panelists. Nothing was far, if at all, out of my depth and my anxiety soon faded. I even mustered the courage to chime in where others left off on their questions, though I was careful to avoid eye contact with Blake. He could throw off my momentum with a well-timed smirk. His face had proven seriously distracting in the professional setting.

After a short round of questions from the audience, we wrapped up. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I had survived.
That wasn’t so bad,
I thought and scolded myself for freaking out at what had turned out to be a totally manageable public speaking engagement. Crisis averted.

“Not bad at all,” Blake said.

Too paranoid about the microphones, I shot him a glare. I pulled together my things and stood up, suddenly anxious to leave and regain some distance from Blake.

He quickly rose with me. “Hey, don’t run off just yet.” He stopped one of the other panelists on his way off the stage.

“Hey, Alex,” he said, getting the man’s attention.

He turned back and caught me by the elbow. I resisted, and then realized he was introducing me to Alex Hutchinson, CEO of one the largest e-commerce websites in the U.S.

“Erica, Alex. Alex, we’ve been working with Erica at Angelcom, and I thought it’d be good for you to connect. There might be some mutual interest with her focus on women’s apparel.”

“Nice to meet you, Erica. I’m looking forward to checking out the site.”

Alex had at least fifteen years on me and looked more like one of the suits I pitched to back in Boston, but he gave me his full attention.

“Thank you, I’d love to get your input.”

“Sure, when did you launch?”

“About a year ago.”

“Excellent, I’ll check it out. Here’s my card, and my cell is on the back. Let’s stay in touch, and let me know if I can help with anything, all right?”

“I definitely will. Thank you so much.”

As Alex headed off, two others approached us, both men around our age. One headed up a popular virtual game development shop, and another had founded a burgeoning music network for discovering new artists not long before Clozpin launched, which made me feel a little bit better about being there.

We made small talk, and Blake gracefully guided the conversation back to me at all the appropriate times. Giddy excitement washed over me. I’d have been too petrified to seek any of these people out on my own. The reception overall was very positive, and I felt validated that I could hold my own, that we had built something worth using.

Eventually the crowd and the rest of the panelists dispersed, leaving me alone with Blake again.

“Wow,” I said, still reeling from it all.

“Was that so bad?”

“No, it was awesome actually. I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

He was right. The anticipation of knowing the caliber of people I would be presenting with and subsequently meeting would have been unbearable. My panic this morning had been mercifully short-lived, and aside from the microphone incident, all had gone exceptionally well. Even so, I wasn’t about to give him any satisfaction by admitting that.

“This was great, but I don’t need your charity, Blake.” The meddling needed to stop.

“You think this was charity?”

“Well, it’s either that or an overelaborate ploy to get me into bed.”

“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t.”

He threaded his fingers with mine. His other arm slipped under my blazer and pulled me up to him. I lifted to him, reveling in the warmth of his body against mine and the relief that always seemed to follow. His embrace was gentle but firm, giving me a taste of the strength of his body.

“Not going to happen.” The protest sounded as weak as my resolve. My free hand found a place on his chest, contoured over the curve of his pectoral. His heart beat strong and steady under my palm, mimicking my own as my body melted into him.
The things we could do...

“I disagree.”

He pulled me closer, the semblance of complete self-control in his expression betrayed by the heat in his eyes. He angled his face above me, his lips a hair’s breadth from my own. My heart beat madly, silencing any lingering thoughts of protest. I couldn’t outrun this desire.

Yes.
I inched my fingers around his nape and drove them through the silky strands of his hair and answered him. Sealing my lips over his, I drank in his scent and surrendered to the onslaught of sensations that having his mouth on me conjured. The tip of his tongue grazed my lips, coaxing them open to his. I parted for him on demand, eager to know if he tasted as good as smelled. His tongue darted in and found mine, taunting me with tiny licks that gave way to deeper strokes. His hands teased the exposed flesh between my blouse and my jeans, roaming over the jut of my hipbone. Mine stayed fisted in his hair and splayed over his chest. I was paralyzed with the fear that if I moved an inch, I’d lose control completely and climb him right here on the stage.
 

Whispers and the clicks from camera phones carried through the room. A small group of attendees were huddled at the back entrance, their faces hidden by their phones, which were pointed directly at us.
Bloody hell.

I pushed away from Blake, who didn’t seem fazed by the paparazzi nerd crew who were probably minutes from tagging our embrace to the conference Twitter feed. Flustered and panicked, I grabbed my things and flew off the stage, making my way to the nearest elevator. Against my better judgment, I had lost control with Blake and now I was humiliating both of us.

“Erica!” Blake rushed up behind me. “Are you okay?”

His hair was mussed to hell, but I resisted the urge to fix it. I was too tightly wound, and a touch, however innocent, could annihilate my already perilously weak commitment not to sleep with him.

“Yes, I genuinely can’t wait to become the laughing stock of the conference.” I shook my head in disbelief, cursing myself for being so reckless.