Breaching His Defenses (Love Hack #1) (13 page)

“Oh, God.”
They don’t know what I did.
The realization crashed around her, and she almost emptied the content of her stomach.
Hayden was supposed to tell them, and they have no idea
.

“Are you all right?”

“No.” Acid churned inside, bubbling up in her throat. “I’m so sorry. I need to talk to Jared. Where is he?”

“His room, probably.”

“Thank you. And I’m so, so sorry.”
Shit, what have I done?

She stepped into the cool of the hallway, needing the air to clear her thoughts. Except it didn’t help. The room spun around her. She hadn’t had that much to drink, had she? Maybe she shouldn’t have skipped dinner.

She wobbled, and the carpet danced to life beneath her. This wasn’t good. Stepping out of her heels, she bent at the waist to grab them. Her head threatened to float away when she straightened again.

There were too many people. She headed away from the crowds. The people faded into the background as she found a spot away from the suites. She leaned into a nearby wall, gulping deep breaths and trying to make the room stop spinning.

This was bad. This was so bad. She needed to tell Jared what she’d done. Her gut lurched. And then brace herself to never see him again.

Jared raked his fingers through his hair and leaned back in the chair. The frame creaked, but held. He blinked to restore the moisture to his eyes.
Finally
. He’d been through everything with Dewson. Made sure every last bit of hardware and software was checked. He could say with one hundred percent certainty his network was clean.

With the immediate problem cleared, his thoughts were free to ramble. To drift to the sexy brunette who was probably downstairs right now, mingling with his colleagues. His chest deflated, almost collapsing in on itself, as he exhaled. An unreachable ache throbbed beneath his ribs. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d seen her. How did he already miss her?

A quiet knock startled him out of his musings. He glanced at the clock. The suites would still be in full swing, with everyone taking advantage of the free booze. It wouldn’t be Tate or Vivian.

He peered through the peephole, eyes growing wide and gut clenching. His senses flared to life, a million prickles of desire dancing over his skin. Mikki stood in the hallway, gaze directed at the floor and shoes dangling from her fingers.
So gorgeous.

He yanked the door open, and her head flew up, eyes wide. He shouldn’t stare but couldn’t help himself. The way her suit hugged her hips, the not-quite-sheer of her lace top enhancing her breasts, and the flush on her face. Except something was off in her expression. He forced words past his lips. “Not that I’m complaining. I’m glad you’re here. But are you okay?”

The pink on her cheeks grew, and the corners of her eyes tugged down. “I need to talk to you.”

Not quite the answer he’d been looking for, but nothing in his mind was prepared to turn her away. He liked the talking. And what it could lead to, but he’d take the just talking if it was her. “Of course.” He stepped aside and latched the door behind her.

She hovered in the middle of the room, staring at her feet. Alarms sounded in his head. Something was obviously wrong, but what? A million possibilities ticked through his head, each discarded before it could become a full thought.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” She whirled to face him and stumbled.

“Careful.” He wrapped an arm around her waist to help steady her. Even through layers of clothing, her heat threatened to sear him, and his pulse spun up another processor in response. Images taunted him of pressing her against the wall, sliding his hands under her shirt, and tasting every inch of her.

He mentally shook the temptation away, but his body didn’t stop reacting. Now was definitely not the time.

She fumbled a few times before finally extracting herself from his arms. “I have to tell you something.”

The wash of alcohol on her breath hit him, and he cringed inwardly. She was drunk. At least now he knew what was wrong. It didn’t erase his fantasy, but it did squelch any desire to act on it. “You look like you need to lie down.”

The corner of her mouth tugged up, and a high-pitched giggle slipped out. “Are you propositioning me?”

Any other night but tonight. He shook his head and held out his arm. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your room.”

She stepped back and wobbled on her feet again. “Does rescuing the fair maiden ever get you in trouble?”

His brain’s reaction to her slurred words battled with his body’s response to wanting her closer. “Sometimes.”

Even if she weren’t so drunk she could barely stand, this had to end now. It was already tearing a hole in his chest to admit they’d never see each other again after this week. The further he got away from her now, the better.

She lunged forward suddenly, fingers digging into his shirt and face buried in his chest. “I didn’t realize. I thought you knew.”

Knew what?
Did she regret what they’d done? A screaming in the back of his head told him to look deeper, but he didn’t dare. She wasn’t making sense, and any drunken confession wouldn’t do either of them any good.

“Come on. You need to sleep this off.” He tried to point her toward the door.

She turned wide eyes on him. Smudged eyeliner rimmed her red gaze. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say, and you’re already throwing me out. I swear I didn’t know.”

Her head tilted up gave him an incredible view of her entire outfit. Jesus, the top really was almost sheer. Right, she was drunk. Fuck. He pressed his lips to her forehead, and then stepped back. “I’m not throwing you out.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.” She grasped his wrists.

Her palms on his bare skin flooded him with desire, and the impulse to strip all their clothes out of the way rushed through him. He couldn’t bring himself to break her grip. She pulled him closer and interlocked her fingers behind his head, hands resting at the base of his neck. A low groan tore from his chest when she pressed her lips to his. Soft, full, and hungry.

His hands slid to the small of her back, holding her captive. Her tongue darted into his mouth, the smooth ball at the tip teasing him and tempting his thoughts. She tasted like Seagram’s and 7 Up. He’d never thought that flavor combination could be intoxicating again. Seemed like a good excuse to replace the old memories with new ones. Her body molded to his. Her yielding curves send daggers of want through every inch of his frame. It took more restraint than he knew he had to keep from inching her shirt up, then yanking it over her head.

She moved her hands to his waist and pushed up his T-shirt. He was as hard as a rock, and his cock ached to be free every time her hip rubbed it through his jeans. How was it possible to want someone this much, even though he had a list of reasons it could devastate his life? Or at least, his career and sanity.

He was about point-two-five seconds from lifting her onto the bed and removing her clothes in ways that would ensure she could never wear any of them again.

He summoned the last of his self-control, dragging it past every sensual, aching inch of arousal, and wrapped his hand around her wrist. A painful chill rushed in around him when he broke all other contact between them. “I don’t hate you, and I’m not throwing you out. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She turned her dark gaze on him, lower lip jutting out. “Promise not to get mad?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed answers now. “Talk to me.”

Her pout melted into a quivering chin.

“Oh, shit.” He clenched and unclenched his left hand. “Don’t cry, please?”

She sank onto the edge of the bed, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook, but she didn’t make a sound.

He kneeled in front of her, unable to ignore the pain echoing inside. “Mikki. Talk to me?”

“I’m… I’m so… I’m sorry.” She forced out between sobs. “I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry.”

What was she apologizing for? Being drunk? That didn’t tie into the carefree image she projected normally. He moved onto the mattress next to her and wrapped a tentative arm around her shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She turned into him and buried her face in his shoulder. And then the body-wracking sobs began. Her tears soaked into his shirt and skin as she cried, and he didn’t care. All he could think about was how he couldn’t take pain this from her, whatever it was. He trailed his fingers through her hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

She shook her head. “It’s not. I can’t undo this.”

He pulled her to him, holding her tighter. Between him and his friends, they could talk or buy their way out of almost anything. But he had no idea what this was or how to make it better. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel so impotent, and he didn’t like the reminder.

Each sob tore away another shred of his soul, but slowly she calmed down, until all that was left was a few sniffles.

She finally pulled away and dragged the back of her hand across her cheeks. Why wouldn’t she look at him?

He held her at arm’s length so he could look her in the eye. Even red-eyed, with tear stained cheeks, she was gorgeous. And breaking his heart. “Don’t move.” He grabbed a glass off the tray near the TV, filled it with water, and kneeled in front of her. “Drink.”

She drained the water and set the glass on the floor next to him.

She looked miserable, and he wanted to fix it. To wrap her up and protect her and make her feel better. But she wasn’t telling him anything.

He gripped her fingers lightly and traced the back of her knuckles. “Doing better?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Not really. But I’m not thirsty anymore.”

He kissed her fingertips one at a time. “Whatever this is—Hayden, something else at work—there’s always an answer.”

“Hayden.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I used to think he was a swell guy. Or at least an okay person.”

Had she been fired? Something else? At least the conversation was moving forward. Jared just wished the progress had come with more answers. “What did Hayden do?”

She dragged in a deep, shuddering breath, and looked him in the eye. “You have some gaping, horrible holes in the security on your network.”

The words stole the air from his lungs, and he sank back, ass resting on his heels. Of the billions of things he expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. He knew people were talking about it, but he hadn’t expected to hear it from her. Dread crept through him, and he tried to push it aside. “No. I don’t.”

Was that hope in her eyes? “So you do know? Did you fix it?”

No. Nononononono
. This wasn’t Karen. It couldn’t be. “There’s nothing to fix.”

“Shit.” The word slipped past her lips and hung between them. “I thought you knew. When I told Hayden, he swore he’d shared the information.”

The cryptic circle of random words was compiling into something recognizable in Jared’s mind, and the output made every inch of him ache with betrayal and fury. It wasn’t true. He was going to make her spell it out, whatever this was. “Thought I knew what?”

“In my interview with NSS, they told me I had to prove my skills. Gave me an IP address and told me it was an internal site. Told me to find the holes in the security. Except it wasn’t internal, it was the Skriddie network. And your network has holes.”

Every thought in Jared’s head crumbled. She was leaving things out. Little details most people wouldn’t notice. Not only had she done this, and then kept it from him, she was still hoping he wouldn’t notice how deep the deception ran. Hurt mingled with anger. “So, you still poked around, even though you knew it wasn’t a NSS network.”

She bit the inside of her cheek not meeting his gaze. “I didn’t realize it at first.”

“Bullshit.” He spit the word out, not able to completely hide his agony in the venom. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You dug in first and didn’t stop until you’d had your fun.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked.

“I don’t care.” He stood and backed away. “You need to leave.”

Her chin quivered.
Please, don’t let her cry again.
His splintered psyche didn’t know how it would handle that.

Instead, she brushed past him without another word. Seconds later, the door latched shut between them.

He collapsed onto the bed and dropped his face into his hands as two hundred and fifty-six shades of confusion pixelated his thoughts.

****

Morning.
Maybe if she lay there just a little longer, Mikki could pretend this entire non-relationship hadn’t completely outlived its license. Pain echoed in her temples, taunting her with reminders of too much alcohol and everything else from the night before.

She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees to her chest. Why had she trusted Hayden? Because he’d never given her a reason not to. Except the entirety of how her job interview went.

She was so stupid, and now she’d lost the trust of a wonderful man. Betrayed someone she adored, respected, and cared about.

The words hit her hard, carried on the betrayed look Jared had given her last night when he’d asked her to leave.

Pain throbbed behind her temples. She hadn’t been thinking straight. Hadn’t said everything she needed to.

She forced herself to sit up, and her skull screamed in protest. As soon as she found some aspirin, and maybe brushed the horrible taste out of her mouth, she’d find Jared and make sure he knew everything. Not because she deserved to be forgiven, but because he deserved the full story.