Love Bytes (3 page)

Before she could think further, letting her mind wander away, he slid into her with a gentle slide, steadying her hips with a firm hold on her waist. Violet sucked in a breath and moaned, bracing her palms against the desk, the heavy invasion welcome after a weekend of longing frustration. His thrusts were controlled, an inexorable steady rhythm that made her gasp for more.

“Francis, please—”

“Shh.” He pressed his body into hers, drawing back, then pressed forward again. “Thought about you all weekend…spanking you…fucking you. Do you like it? Tell me you like it. Tell me to fuck you.”

Violet pressed the side of her face to the desk, the blotter sliding back and forth with the force of his thrusts. The coffee sloshed over the sides of the cup, the dark liquid staining the white paper. Her mind screamed,
Yes, fuck me, like that, like that, like THAT!
But her mouth refused to form the words he wanted, the buildup of tension paralyzing her vocal cords.

She grasped at the desk, trying to find purchase to brace herself, but her palms slipped against the smooth surface. Heat radiated outward, from her cheeks, her belly and from the pounding flesh between her legs, spiraling up like a balloon until it popped, sending wild, jagged sensations through her. Violet struggled for breath, making tiny cries of pleasure that seemed to drive him over the edge, his thrusts becoming faster, the grip on her waist tighter. Her flesh tightened around him and he exploded, his climax pushing the air out of his lungs in one long gasp.

In the moment after, she rested, eyes closed, muscles loose and light, reality returning. When she opened her eyes, Francis’ watch was gone.

“Violet.” Hands on her shoulders, he helped her up. He examined her, ducking his head to look into her face. “Are you okay?” He kissed her forehead, then her lips.

“Yes,” she nodded, though she felt a little dizzy. It was like this every time they were away from each other. Any separation increased the craving to the point where when she was able to have him, she disappeared for those moments. “I’m fine.”

Ever the gentleman, Francis scooped up her jeans and her underwear and handed her the bundle of clothes. He brushed his hand through his hair, his expression anxious.

“Violet, I’ve been thinking…”

“Remember the rules, Francis,” she spoke without expression. “We’ve done pretty well so far. Please, don’t fuck it up.”

He said nothing else and she continued to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed and locked the door, leaned against the cool tile wall, gathering her thoughts. Emotions were so sloppy. She liked Francis, liked having sex with him, and he was one of the best programmers she knew. Couldn’t they leave it at that? Anything further would be unneeded trouble.

Violet washed up and re-fluffed her hair without examining herself in the mirror. When she emerged from the bathroom, ready to begin her day by lighting a fire under the programmers’ collective behinds, Francis was gone.

Chapter Four

Violet sat at the conference table in their office, two laptops open in front of her. Her gaze darted from one screen to the other, a container of yogurt at her elbow, forgotten. “Rogers seems to be doing a good job leading the programmers’ team. They like him.”

“I’d trust Rogers with anything.” Francis reached over and scooped up a spoonful of her yogurt.

She moved the yogurt out of his reach. “Get your own.”

“I’m not going to eat that much.”

“You’ll eat more than your share. You’re greedy. Get your own.”

“Only greedy about some things,” he said.

The insinuation made her blush and she changed the subject. “Did you see the shop downstairs? The Valentine’s decorations? Whoever owns that shop seems like a real weirdo.”

“I don’t know.” Francis raised his shoulders in a quick shrug, his eyes thoughtful behind his glasses. “Maybe the owner likes the holiday, wants to put people in the spirit.”

“We’re barely out of January.” Violet huffed, scraping the bottom of the yogurt container. “It’s too soon for all that hoopla.”

“At least it will be another tenant in the building. It was rather depressing walking past that empty shop every morning.”

“Everything is ‘rather depressing’ to you, Francis.” She tossed the empty container in the trash receptacle. “You spend too much time in dark rooms.”

“I’m ignoring that.” Francis leaned back in the chair, stretched his long legs in front of him, and crossed his arms. “I’m too busy thinking.”

She leaned her face in the palm of her hand and watched him. He was quite good looking, better looking than most of the men in the local software industry. His hair was thick, cut close on the sides and back, longer on top where it stood in stiff waves. Its light brown color was almost a match for his tan skin, which reminded her of the beach on a summer’s day. A straight, refined nose gave him a look of arrogance while his full lower lip softened his overall appearance, and was a delight to nibble on.

And he was smart too. Forget Rogers, Francis was the best programmer she knew, which was why she tapped him to help her co-found the company after meeting him at a conference years back.

“What are you thinking about?”

“How long is it going to take for us to work out these glitches. Calculating the time it’s going to take before the deadline.”

Violet shook her head. Though she was expert at programming and was one of the top coders in the industry, she’d left that behind. The whole process gave her headaches which is why she hired programmers. “You told them in the meeting that they would be able to handle the issues with the software.”

“That was confidence building.”

“I call it lying.”

Francis shook his head back and forth, a half-smile on his face. “This is why I’m glad you let me run the meetings.”

Violet made a face and turned back to the laptop screen. “You’re wonderful, Francis. Absolutely fabulous.” Her tone was heavy with sarcasm, but she knew the words were true. “So can we make the fixes or not? No BS confidence building, please.”

“We can.”

“Hear anything about Avarix?”

“No.” He blew out a breath. “But I’ll keep my ear to the ground.” He glanced at her. “Are you nervous?”

Using one finger, she pushed one of the laptops forward, trying to appear nonchalant. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “It means a lot of money, Francis.” She allowed her gaze to meet his. “A lot.”

“Worry not, Violet.” He reached over and patted the back of her hand where it was curled on the table. “We’ve got the best programmers. They work hard. If they can’t do it…heck, we can do it ourselves.”

Chapter Five

As Violet entered the lobby that morning, the rich fragrance of brewed coffee and the vanilla odor of something sweet baking enticed her through the open door of the shop, the words “Grand Opening” above the door. It was a scent that reminded her of her friend Penelope who was always baking up something tasty at her bakery. The heady fragrance was so intoxicating that she crossed the threshold against her will. She glanced at her watch and realized that the shop wasn’t yet open despite the man behind the counter with his back to her. How embarrassing. Why hadn’t she bothered to look at the hours on the door?

Changing directions, she knocked against a metal garbage can, startling herself. The man behind the counter turned around, a look of suspicion on his face, which vanished when he saw her.

“Morning,” he said, dropping a white cloth on the stainless steel counter.

Violet backed up, making a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry, I…I didn’t realize it was so early. You’re not open. I didn’t mean to—”

He pointed at her as he came from behind the counter. “Violet, right? Violet Connelly? Second floor, NorthStar Tech?”

She flushed, feeling too warm inside her wool coat. “Yes, I’m Violet. Well, people…people call me Vee.”

“Joe Costello.” He extended his hand and she took two steps forward to shake it. Tall, black-haired and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He didn’t have any problem filling out the gray thermal shirt he wore.

“Welcome, Joe. Grand opening and all.” She made a weak gesture at the sign.

“Thanks. Seems like a great spot, what with your firm and the design school upstairs. Vee…” he said, drawing out the vowels. “That’s very charming, I like it.”

Violet smiled as if she had passed some test. What difference did it make if Joe liked her name or not? Regardless of its implication, his approval pleased her.

“You came here for coffee, right? Come and pick something you like.”

Violet didn’t move. The last thing she wanted him to think was that he needed to serve her coffee. The shop was closed, after all. “Joe, no. I shouldn’t have even disturbed you.”

Despite her protests, he had gone behind the counter and was now perusing his own selection of coffees. “No trouble at all.” He pushed down on the tap of one of the huge pots and a pink paper cup filled with the magical brew.

An arrow of guilt winged its way through her chest. Francis made them coffee. However, Joe was already pouring the coffee; she couldn’t just walk away. She made her way over to the counter to claim her cup.

Joe’s curious gaze traveled over her face and she did her best not to blush, but her traitorous cheeks heated despite her effort. “Two creams, one sugar, right?”

Violet felt her eyes widen. Was he a mind reader? “How did you know?”

Joe added the extras. “You don’t seem like the type of gal who likes it too sweet.” He fitted a pink top to the cup and placed it on the counter. “No charge.”

“I couldn’t.” She rummaged through her messenger bag. Taking the coffee would be rude; she had to pay him something.

Joe put his hand on her gloved ones, stilling their frantic digging. “Take it and enjoy.”

A reluctant smile crept across her face. “I will. Thank you.” She scooped up her messenger bag. “Thank you,” she said again and grabbed the paper cup, the heat of the coffee penetrating the thin leather of her glove.

“Nice to meet you, Vee,” Joe called after her.

She raised one hand in reply.

****

Violet walked across the carpeted hallway to the mailroom, pulled the mail from yesterday, and tucked it in her bag. Francis never seemed to remember to check the box.

On her way to the elevator, she heard the lobby door open.

“Vee!” Francis called.

Violet stopped, trying not to squeeze the cup of coffee in her hand. If only she could stick it in her pocket. “Hello, Francis,” she said, pressing the button for the elevator. “Look who’s early.”

“You’re earlier.” He eyed the cup of coffee in her hand. “Where did you get that?”

“The coffee shop.” The elevator door opened with a ding and they stepped inside.

Francis pushed the button for the second floor. “When I walked by it was closed.”

“It
is
closed,” she said as the elevator’s doors opened. “I got a free sample.”

“Free sample. How nice.” Francis was expressionless as he unlocked the office door. He pushed it open. “After you.”

****

Rogers settled at the common table with his co-workers and peeled the plastic wrap from his chicken salad sandwich—the one thing that the cafeteria did well. For a small company, the set-up was pretty sweet. None of the other companies he’d worked for had given him his own office. Anything you want, Francis had told him, which was fine until he realized “anything” had a limit named Violet.

“I hope we’re able to pull this off,” said Alyssa, gesturing with a fork that trailed ramen noodles. The girl lived on Coke Zero and those instant soups in a cup. “We’re working on a tight deadline. My eyes are screaming for some relief from that damn screen.”

“For the bonuses they’re paying, it’ll be worth it.”  Pete took a big bite of his sandwich, brushed at the crumbs that fell across his chest. “I’m with ‘em to the end.”

Rogers shrugged. “I’ve worked with tighter deadlines,” he said with feigned enthusiasm. “But you’re right. I’d work straight through for that bonus.”

Alyssa dug into her Styrofoam cup and scraped the sides, a sound that irritated Rogers. As the newest programmer, she had a huge case of hero worship for Violet and, from what he saw, a schoolgirl crush on Francis.

He frowned, and then rearranged his face into a more pleasant expression. In less than two weeks, this all would be over and NorthStar Tech would be no more.

“Violet is the best at what she does. If anyone can pull it off, she can.” To his relief, she dropped the plastic spoon in the cup and tossed it in the trash. “I was so thrilled when I was hired here.”

Pete nodded. “They’re both great to work for. Hands off, not looking over your shoulder.”

Lemmings
. Violet ran this place like a nursery school and Francis allowed it. No other programmer’s job required him to speak to end-users, idiots who didn’t realize that the fault wasn’t in the software, but in them. It was amazing how many calls he fielded per week on that preschool software they’d produced their first year in business. He couldn’t imagine how much that would increase with the newest product. But it wouldn’t. Because they would fail. There would be no software and he wouldn’t have to answer phones ever again.

He bit into his sandwich with renewed relish.

Chapter Six

The tiny office/storeroom they provided with the contract was cold and drafty. In addition, every duct housing in the building routed through there, or so it seemed. Joe tapped on the keys of his laptop, the screen glowing in the semi-darkness. He should bring in a lamp, or at least something that gave him the semblance of an actual workspace. The smell of the brewed coffee was less here, but every time the blower kicked on, he would get a blast of Jamaican roast along with dry heat.

Violet, or Vee—he’d call her anything she wanted him to call her—was more than he’d anticipated. After he’d seen where she’d worked, he expected a skinny little computer geek with glasses and hair in her eyes, not to mention flat chested.