Hardwired (The Hardwired Series) (Volume 1) (6 page)

“Hey, any publicity is good publicity, right?” He smiled. He reached for me, but I stepped back out of his grasp.

“Blake, you don’t get it!” I yelled, unable to control myself this time, which drew the attention of a few people passing by. Maybe they could catch this on video and post it to YouTube to complete my morning of PR self-destruction. I was shaking now. Too many emotions surged through me—exhilaration, blinding lust, and utter embarrassment.

“Shh, relax.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sure those kids don’t even know who we are, and if they do, it’ll just be a blip.”

Those kids, who were my age, very likely didn’t know me, but I couldn’t say the same about Blake.

“Whatever. I guess there’s not much I can do about it now.” I shrugged. My exhaustion was bone-deep now. I leaned back into the wall, feeling more depleted by the minute.

“Listen, I’ve got a few meetings this afternoon, but I want to take you out tonight.”

I sighed, willing to agree if it brought me closer to a nap.

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he promised, but a dangerous flash of hunger clouded his eyes.

“You have a habit of offending me indiscriminately. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

The bell dinged and the doors opened. I retreated to the empty elevator, and miraculously, Blake didn’t follow me.

Just before the doors closed, he said, “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

* * *

I nursed a glass of wine and Alli started on her second espresso martini at one of the award-winning Italian restaurants in the casino. I filled her in on the details of the morning, including the highs of connecting with a handful of high-powered executives in the industry, and the subsequent lows of potentially discrediting myself by being caught in Blake’s arms, on camera, only moments later. I took a healthy gulp of my Pinot Noir at the remembrance.

“He’s persistent. But that doesn’t really surprise me,” Alli said.

“I can’t help but feel like I’m losing the war with him.” I picked at my pasta
fra diavolo
, torn by the way I felt around Blake. One minute I was cursing him out, and the next I had to harness every ounce of self-control not to give in to him.

“Erica, I know you’re hyper-focused on the business right now, but if you’re attracted to him, and he’s obviously super attracted to you, why not just go for it?”

“I’ve been through hell and back, Alli. You know this. The business is the first thing I’ve cared about in a long time. It’s kept me grounded, and if I screw this up because I can’t get a handle on my hormones, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

While getting a more traditional job was a remote possibility, I refused to accept failure as an option. Sure, I periodically experienced the-sky-is-falling moments, but I always pulled through stronger, giving more of myself and pushing us further than we ever expected to be. Under normal circumstances, I could juggle casual sex and work or school, but this wasn’t one of those moments. I needed to stay focused or risk losing everything.

“You’ve already proven yourself to him professionally. Do you really think he won’t respect you if you sleep with him?”

“Maybe. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

Blake was unpredictable. He had been both devastating and extremely helpful to the cause, so I had no idea what to expect from him, especially if we complicated the relationship with sex.

“When you play by those rules, Erica, you give them credence. Guys fuck around all the time, and no one thinks twice about it. Just because you’re a woman doesn’t mean you’re not entitled to a night of hot sex.”

“Says the girl who rolled in at eight o’clock this morning.” I pointed my fork at her. “Seriously though, the business is more important to me than any fling right now.”

Alli paused for moment. “Maybe Blake isn’t fling-material.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Blake isn’t some asshole frat boy. Maybe you should give him a chance.”

“You’re right, he’s an asshole billionaire. I’m not sure what’s worse.”

Alli rolled her eyes. I knew what was worse, but I hated that she was dredging up the past at a time like this.

“So have you heard from Heath since…you know?” I asked, hoping to steer the subject away from Blake.

“Yeah, he texted me this morning.” A slow smile spread across her face.

She was already smitten. Heaven help us all.

“Thanks for the memories?” I joked, and we both laughed. “Do you think it’ll go anywhere?”

“I’m not sure. He lives in New York, so who knows? We’re going to grab dinner tonight.” She looked up. “I mean, if you don’t mind. We can hang out if you really want to ditch Blake.”

I knew she was lying, like any decent friend would.

Not surprisingly, Alli and I battled over my attire. We settled on a peach strapless high low dress, which we agreed was date appropriate but didn’t scream, “Let’s skip dessert.” I repurposed my nude pumps and fluffed my hair nervously in the mirror.

Blake knocked on the door at eight o’clock on the dot. He wore a simple white collared shirt rolled up at the sleeves and dark blue jeans. His normally wayward hair was smoothed carefully to the side, though it rebelled here and there in a way that was still sexy and fashionable. I’d spent the past several hours trying to predict what the night would bring, and now I couldn’t keep my thoughts remotely clean.

After a few moments of shameless ogling, I found his gaze trained on me, a mirrored reflection of raw appreciation. A rush of emotion hit me—butterflies, carnal desire, and an unsettling premonition that I could be getting in way over my head with Blake Landon. The man was sexy, rich, and confident, and my hormones had absolutely no willpower in his presence.

“Hi.” I held onto my clutch like a life preserver.

“Erica.” A hint of a smirk curved his lips.

“Blake!” Alli joined me at the door, giving Blake the once-over. “You guys look so cute!”

“We’re not going to the prom, Alli,” I mumbled, though it felt that way a little bit. Except the hottest boy in school was at my doorstep, and that didn’t seem quite right. Sure, I cleaned up nice and attracted my fair share of hot guys, but I’d taken myself off the market months ago to focus on work. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be physically appreciated like this. In fact, I wasn’t sure if anyone had ever really made me feel like this, and all Blake and I had done was kiss.

Blake offered his arm to me and motioned for our retreat. I hooked mine in his, and he led us down the hall.

“You kids have fun!” Alli called after us.

“I’ll have her home by morning,” Blake said, winking back at her.

I rolled my eyes at the idea.

Once in the elevator, Blake hit the number forty-five, the highest number on the grid, and we began our ascent.

Confused, I asked, “Where are we going?”

“The top floor.”

“What’s up there?”

“Uh, my room, actually.”

My excitement wilted. “Subtle, Blake.” I yanked away and crossed my arms. Perfect gentleman, my foot.
God, I’m so naïve.

Blake laughed. “It’s not what you think. Trust me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’ve given me no reason to trust you.”

“I’ve heard that takes time, so maybe there’s hope yet.”

The elevator doors opened and led me to the end of the long hallway where he slid his key to gain entrance to the room. I followed him in, awestruck by the sprawling suite that could only be described as a modest palace.

We walked through an ornate entryway, and before us, a floor-to-ceiling wall of windows showcased the Las Vegas skyline. The sun had set moments earlier behind the silhouette of the barren mountains, imbuing the sky with gradients of gold and amber, while every major landmark on the manmade strip before us mimicked nature’s brilliance. A million little lights brought the night to life in this wild, addictive city.

“I thought this might be a better view than the restaurant,” he said quietly.

“It’s breathtaking.” My eyes scanned the horizon, thrilled by his choice. For the second time today, a giddy excitement bubbled inside me thanks to Blake. Still, I tempered my outward display, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of wowing me so easily.

“I’m glad you think so.” He guided me toward our table for two by the windows.

The two-story suite was draped in luxury and elegance. The motif featured warm washed out tones among a variety of textures, from upholstered mohair walls to cool cream marble surfaces that contrasted with the sleek and tastefully integrated modern electronics.

I coolly catalogued the suite’s amenities until a server delivered a champagne bucket from one of the adjoining rooms.

“Madam?” The server offered up a chilled bottle of Cristal Rosé.

“Please,” I replied.

He expertly filled our flutes to the brim.

“I took the liberty of ordering for us.” Blake tipped his glass to meet mine. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I’ll let it slide.” In truth, I was relieved. I couldn’t think straight around Blake let alone figure out what kind of food I could eat gracefully in his presence.

“So, tell me more about Erica Hathaway.”

I sighed.
Here we go.
“What do you want to know?”

“What do you do for fun?” He licked his lips.

My body clenched from my fingertips gripping the chair’s edge to the heated center between my legs. My defenses were wearing dangerously thin around Blake. Why had I ever agreed to this? Well, I hadn’t, but I hadn’t exactly refused either. Regardless, here we were, and thus far everyone was on their best behavior except my libido.

“To be honest, not much, at least lately.”

“So you’re a workaholic?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, we have that in common.” He leaned back into his chair and gazed out into the horizon.

“Oh? It seems like you do well enough these days to take a more relaxed approach to life.”

“My life is hardly a vacation, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I see no reason why it shouldn’t be.”

“Then I suppose you don’t know me very well.”

“Enlighten me,” I said. “A little bird told me you used to be a hacker.”

Over the rim of my nearly empty champagne flute, a grimace flashed across his face, then disappeared.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read online.”

“No?”

The server brought our meals, two perfectly cooked rib eye steaks atop a bed of asparagus and sautéed mushrooms. My heart sang for a moment and I thanked the server, who disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving us alone once more.

Famished from the intense day, I ate, enjoying each divine bite. “You aren’t interested in sharing your life story, I take it?”

He paused before answering, intently focused on his meal and avoiding eye contact. “You’ve read the cliff notes already. What more is there to tell?”

“How else will I know how to become insanely successful unless you tell me all your secrets?” I searched his eyes, wishing he would tell me more, something I couldn’t find online.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I developed banking software, sold it, and now I invest in other, mostly successful, ventures to kill time. Satisfied?”

“Not really,” I said truthfully.

“So how involved is Alli in your business?”

I wanted to know more about Blake’s infamous history, but I decided to circle back to it later since it seemed to be a touchy subject, and he hadn’t really started grinding my gears yet.

“She was my inspiration for the site actually. After three years I think I’ve finally completed my fashion education with her, even though she still insists on dressing me half the time. Anyway, now she does our marketing. She’s responsible for making the connections that have resulted in most of our paid accounts.”

“You said her involvement was dependent on financing though.”

“Alli’s parents are expecting her to get a job that pays more than we do, so she doesn’t have much choice until we get financing or grow more quickly. She’s been interviewing in New York, so I imagine that’s where she’ll end up eventually if things don’t work out here.”

“How are you financing the site right now?”

“Honestly?”

“You’re not pitching me. I’m just curious.”

“We supplement the site income with my inheritance, which, thanks to all this wonderful education, is finally dwindling.”

“I’m sure you’re not the first one to leverage your personal finances to follow a dream.”

The champagne warmed me, a welcome relaxation in the presence of someone who had a habit of winding me up. He was being surprisingly sweet, though. At least when we weren’t talking about him.

When we finished, Blake tossed his napkin on the table and topped off our glasses, emptying the pricey bottle of pink bubbly. He grabbed his glass, stood, and reached for my hand. Tentatively, I accepted it, and he led us to the bright white leather couches on the other end of the expansive main area. I sat, and he took a seat next to me, sliding his knee alongside my leg to face me.

“So you’ve graduated and now you’re talking to Max. What’s next?”

“That’s the million dollar question.”

“Or the two million dollar question, in this case,” he said.

“Right. I don’t exactly know. I have to move out of the dorms next week, so I suppose I have to figure out my next move pretty quick.”

“You strike me as someone who will make it work, one way or the other.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, fingering my dangle earring before dropping his hand onto the back of the couch.

My breathing quickened, and I felt certain he noticed.

“What do you want to do tonight?” he asked quietly, his gaze traveling over me.

As if the gauge of his stare had direct control over my body temperature, I flushed, my skin becoming unbearably heated. I wasn’t so naïve to believe that the night wouldn’t end in Blake’s bed, but I was losing the battle a little faster than I’d planned to. I’d wanted other men before and had them. Detached and focused on the physical, I could almost always keep things on my own terms. But nothing about being with Blake felt detached now.