Hardwired For Ecstasy (11 page)

Chapter
Sixteen

During
the next two weeks, Emma felt like every glance someone gave her, or each
conversation that stopped when she came into the room or turned a corner was
because of the article. This was despite the fact she’d heard very little
gossip about it. What little she had heard was shrugged off as merely one more
story about the Weathermen that tried to stir up trouble. No one but her seemed
concerned that the Fourth District police station had specifically been named.

She
kept expecting to see a text message or email from Leland, but she heard
nothing. Maybe Atticus had been right? This would all blow over and nothing
would come of it? As far as she knew, the hackers working for Barclay, Grayson,
and Oliver were still there. She didn’t see anything online that gave her
reason to think Shawn Castle was acting any differently. She didn’t know Clyde
Medici, but Atticus hadn’t said anything to worry her over his actions, either.

She’d
helped Atticus compile a list of people she’d worked with who had known about
her and Leland, but she hadn’t asked him what he was doing with it. Everything
had gone back to normal with her and Atticus, and when she was with him it was
easy to forget about the article and do as he’d suggested—pretend she’d never
read it. When she worked on her project it took all her concentration and she
didn’t think about it.

But
all the other times, and especially if she woke up at night but Atticus was
still sleeping, Emma grew afraid. Who had done this and why? Was it directed at
her, or had the mention of the police station merely been coincidental? She
wished she’d never responded to Leland’s flirting. But if she hadn’t, she might
still be working there, and then she never would have come here to work. She
never would have met Atticus, and she wouldn’t be with him.

Every
time she tried to imagine her life without
Atticus, that
gave her more anxiety than the article. She was so in love with him and wanted
to say something, but this article had cast a pall over everything. Or, at
least she thought it had. Some days she felt she was being paranoid and it was
time to let him know how she felt. He had a right to know.

The
only other man she’d said “I love you” to
had
been
Leland, and that hadn’t turned out well. But this wasn’t the same thing. Not
even close. Atticus wasn’t married and he would never hurt her the way Leland
had. She needed to tell him. It was the right thing to do.

****

Atticus
knew that Emma was preoccupied with the article. Everything was fine between
them, and she did her work, but he noticed the worry lines around her mouth
that had never been there before. He saw the fear and concern on her face when
she thought no one was looking. And he heard her talking in her sleep almost
every night.

He
was so in love with her, but he wanted this to be past them before he said
anything. As one week dragged into two, he realized he might be waiting a long
time to see this to its conclusion. They might never find out who had written
the article.

The
only saving grace was that none of the hackers had moved. They’d heard no
chatter about it, and they were watching the message boards themselves now, as
well. They all considered themselves very lucky that nothing had come of this,
and hoped that fact would eventually flush out who had written it. They were
hoping the author had wanted something to happen, and would make another move
toward that end.

In
the meantime, Atticus wanted to take Emma out and finally tell her he was in
love with her. It was time to do so. If he waited for this to be over, he’d be
waiting too long. She deserved an evening during which she didn’t have to think
about any of this.

On
the Friday he intended to take her out, he left a note next to the bed in the
morning while she was in the shower. He heard her laugh as she came down the
stairs with it in her hand. “What is this?”

“Do
you like it?”

“I
love it, but where do I start this treasure hunt?”

“I’ll
leave you clues all day.”

She
hugged him, and he nearly said the hell with breakfast. He’d rather have her
again. “Thank you for this, Atticus. I need a day of fun.”

He
stroked her hair. “I know, love. That’s why I’m doing it. I know how difficult
these past two weeks have been for you.”

“They’ve
been difficult for you, too.”

“Not
in the same way. We’ve weathered bad press before.”

She
pulled away and looked up into his eyes. The words were right there, on the tip
of his tongue, but he wanted to wait until later.

“Any
progress on finding who wrote the article?”

“I
would tell you if there was.” He kissed her, but only briefly. “Let’s make a
pact. No talk about the article today. Okay? Let’s have fun instead.”

“All
right. One question, though.”

He
sighed. “Okay. But
only
one.”

“What
did you do with those names of my former coworkers I gave you?”

“Still
digging.”

She
chuckled. “And did you find anything yet?”

“Not
a damn thing. Dead end.”

She
opened her mouth to say something else, but he kissed her again, deeply this
time, and his damn dick jumped to attention. No way to prevent that. All he had
to do was think about her and that happened. When he released the kiss, he
forced his attentions back to breakfast. He would make this day perfect for her
no matter how many times he had to distract her from that fucking article, or
the people she’d left behind in Central.

****

Emma
got a kick out of the clues Atticus left her all day. The first one came in her
email no less than fifteen minutes after they arrived at the office, and said
she’d have a surprise that she could wear tonight if she looked in the
bathroom. Emma had laughed out loud, then went down the hall to the bathroom
she and several others on this floor normally used.

No
one else was in it, but there was a package, wrapped in bright paper with a big
bow. Her name was on it, so she took it back to her office and unwrapped it.
Gasping, she held up the dark rose dress and matching shoes, then looked up as
Atticus came into her office.

“I
hope you like it. I thought the color would be perfect on you.”

“I
love it.” She walked around the desk and held it up against her body. “What do
you think?”

“Wear
it tonight and I’ll let you know.”

She
slapped playfully at his arm. “Smart ass. How did you pull this off?”

“I
asked the administrative assistants to give you a few minutes to find the
package before they went in there this morning.”

“Where
am I wearing such a gorgeous dress?”

“Oh
no. You’ll have to work out the clues.”

How
could any woman help falling in love with such a man? “Thank you for this. It’s
perfect.”

He
gave her such a look, filled with love and
tenderness, that
she wished they were back in his apartment. “You’re perfect, Atticus.”

They
gazed at each other for long moments, but the spell was broken when she heard
one of the administrative assistants call his name from the hallway. He sighed.
“Time to play CEO.”

“When
should I expect my next clue?”

He
winked. “It’ll be a surprise.”

By
the end of the day, during which Atticus had her looking all over the building
for clues, she’d surmised he was either whisking her away to Italy, which of
course was impossible since it no longer existed, or taking her out to eat at
an Italian restaurant. She didn’t dare hope it was Tapioca’s. She’d never been
there, but had heard it was the most expensive, upscale place in CentralEast.

She
wouldn’t tell him she’d guessed. She didn’t want to spoil the surprise for him.
Emma left work an hour early and spent more time getting ready to go out than
she had in a very long time. She wanted everything to be perfect tonight
because Atticus had gone to so much trouble to make this fun and unique for
her.

They
walked hand in hand toward the downtown area, and Emma could barely contain her
excitement. Before they turned the corner onto the street where Tapioca’s
stood, Atticus stopped and gave her a sheepish grin. “You figured it out,
didn’t you?”

Her
heart sank. “Only because your clues were so good.” Emma kissed him. “It
doesn’t matter that I figured it out, does it? What matters is we’re here
together, and this is such a perfect night. Thank you for this.”

He
stroked her hair. “You make a man want to do anything for you, Emma. You know
that?”

“Only
when I look into your eyes.”

“God,”
he whispered. “I can’t hold this in any longer.” He glanced around, but no one
was near them. “Emma, I love you. I am so damn in love with you. This entire
evening was so I could tell you that, away from work, away from that fucking
article, away from everything that’s been worrying you for the past two weeks.”

She
put a hand over her heart as tears stung her eyes. “Oh, Atticus. Oh my God. I
love you, too. So much. I’ve wanted to tell you but
I
… my mind hasn’t been on anything else but that article. Thank you for this.
Thank you so much. I love you so much!”

He
pulled her close and held her while people walked past them. She barely noticed
any of them. She inhaled Atticus’s clean scent, and pushed closer to his warm,
muscular body. He loved her. He loved her!

Gone
were the worries of the past couple of weeks, along with the fears that Leland
would resurface. Even if he did, Atticus would take care of it. He would take
care of everything the way he had since she’d started working for him. With
grace, efficiency, and the confidence borne of power and wealth. She was in
love with a Weatherman, and she knew what that meant by now. Her life would
never be the same again. Emma welcomed it.

****

Dinner
was magnificent. She’d never tasted food like this. They feasted on calamari,
swordfish, and the best eggplant dish she’d ever had. She couldn’t get enough
of the roasted vegetables. Atticus had asked for a second side dish of them
just for her. For dessert they had strawberries and fresh cream, plus espresso.
Emma’s face hurt from smiling so much. She’d never been this happy, or had such
an enjoyable night out.

When
they returned to Atticus’s apartment, Emma kissed him like it might be the last
time she could ever do it. They clawed at each other, clothes dropping wherever
they landed, oblivious to everything except each other. She was on her knees in
front of him before they reached any of the bedrooms.

Emma
took his dick out of his pants and wrapped her lips around it, right there in
the upstairs hallway, with the carpet chaffing her bare knees. She didn’t give
a shit. She loved this man so damn much she’d gladly walk around with carpet
burns on her knees.

Atticus
pulled out of her mouth. “Baby … I want to come inside your pussy.”

Emma
turned around and knelt on the carpet, ass in the air. “Give it to me, love.
Hard and rough. Fuck me into next week, Atticus. I want your cock to hurt me.”

“Oh,
Emma…” He removed the rest of his clothing and smacked her ass cheeks, hard. She
cried out in pleasure, not giving a shit if his staff was watching this time.
She needed him right fucking
now
.

He
reached underneath and grasped her breasts, hard. Then he slapped her pussy and
fingered her clit until she thought she’d go out of her mind with desire. “Fuck
me. Please.”

“Oh
I will. I will fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

Finally,
he shoved his dick into her pussy from behind, pushing her roughly onto the
carpet so she lay prone. Emma raked her fingers against the fibers, moaning
loudly with each hard thrust. He grunted and groaned behind her, tugging her
hair and reaching under her body to roughly fondle her breasts. She never
wanted it to end.

Her
climax was powerful and swift, and she arched her back to try to get more of
his cock inside. She couldn’t get enough of him tonight. He slammed into her
even harder, and then he cried out and came inside her pussy, pushing so hard
it did hurt but she didn’t care. She’d let him do it again and again if that’s
what he wanted. Anything to have him next to her and inside her.

He
lay on top of her, the sweat on their bodies drying and their breathing still
quick, then scrambled to his feet as they heard footsteps on the stairs. Emma
giggled, stood, and bent over to try to retrieve the clothes they’d removed up
here.

“Leave
them. Come on.”

She
sprinted into his bedroom, then collapsed onto his bed with him, laughing.

“But
the carpet … there are stains on it. I’m sure there are.”

He
chuckled. “They’ll clean it.” Atticus pulled her into his arms and held her
tightly. “Sleep. Just a little. Then round two.”

She
grinned. “Where should we do it this time? The kitchen?”