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Spencer arrived at Josie’s apartment later than he’d wanted. She didn’t live that far away. Her apartment was north of Seattle in the Queen Anne district. Nice, sedate, but pricey, the area overlooked downtown Seattle from high atop Queen Anne Hill. The view during the day had to be fantastic, but the early fall evening had already set in. As he walked from the parking spot he’d nabbed on a side street, he spotted one of the cruise ships out on the water leaving port, probably heading up to Alaska.
He swept a hand over his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d tried to get away earlier, but things had kept getting in his way. First, he’d had that run-in with Kylie. Then he’d had to go home and secure the media card Luke had entrusted to him, and he’d stopped to double-check that he had the right one. Which led to other things...
He knocked on her door, hoping she wasn’t put out with him. He’d texted her that he was running late, but—
She opened the door, and he lost his train of thought. She didn’t look upset at all. No, comfy, relaxed, and sexy were closer to it. The long, stretchy top she’d worn this afternoon had become a dress. Her feet were bare and so were her legs. He dragged his gaze away from her sleek thighs, but it stuck again on her breasts. Apparently, that bra was tricky. She’d never managed to re-hook it. In fact, it was gone entirely.
He itched to touch her. She’d looked hot before, but this styling was much better.
They stood in the doorway, looking at each other until he got uneasy. She was staring at him, her green eyes huge. Had she not gotten his message? Was she not expecting him to come over?
“The photos have been taken down,” he said. Good news had to help, right?
“What did you do?” she asked.
He shifted his weight. He’d thought she’d be happier about that. “Nothing. Ivan took them down through proper channels. He just texted me.”
She caught him by the arm. “I meant your hair, Spencer.”
The back of his neck itched again. It felt so bare. “Oh, that.” Heat hit his cheeks like a torch. “Well, that’s one of the reasons why I’m late. Kylie told me that if I was going to date you, I couldn’t go around looking like a shaggy dog.”
The threat had hit a little too close to home. “Does she know?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“You didn’t tell her I was”—he looked down the empty hallway—“Guard Dog?”
“No!” Josie’s eyes rounded, but she inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly. “The hair.”
He rubbed his hand over the shorter ends. “She gave me a card for a barber—or I guess it was a hair stylist—but then decided to call herself. They had an unexpected cancellation. She was pretty insistent.”
Josie pulled him inside, closed the door, and helped his backpack off his shoulder. She put it on the kitchen table without looking. The way she was staring at him made Spencer nervous. His ability to read women wasn’t any better today than it had been yesterday.
“Is it okay?” he asked. It was shorter than he was used to, but tufts didn’t stick out anymore and, if he ran his fingers through it, it fell back where it was supposed to go. He hadn’t known it could do that.
She took a step toward him. He’d let her run her fingers through it all she wanted... if she wanted...
“Josie?”
She kept coming at him until he hit the back of the sofa. She caught the front of his sweatshirt in her fist and pulled him down toward her. The kiss she planted on him nearly made his hair spike without any of that funky goo they’d put on it at the hair place.
That was a sign he could definitely read.
He cupped her face. “I take it you like it?”
“I like it a lot.” She threaded her fingers into his hair, and prickles of pleasure ran down the back of his neck. “Spencer, you were cute before. Now, you’re gorgeous.”
He let out a snort.
“Gor—geous.”
She pushed him, and he sat down hard on the sofa’s back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled close. The kiss she gave him was twice as long and twice as hot. It left him with his thighs clenched hard, and his toes digging into the carpeting.
“Two women in customer success did run into each other when I went back into Afire to help defend against a phishing attack,” he said.
Wait. Was that jealousy that flared in her green eyes?
“I just thought that they were absorbed in their phones,” he said quickly.
“Floozies. They were absorbed in you.” She cozied up so close, her breasts plumped against his chest. “I want their names and desk locations. I saw you first.”
He grinned and ran his hands up the backs of her bare thighs. She shivered, and his ego got an even bigger boost. “Sorry I’m late.”
He pressed his lips against her neck. She whimpered and dropped her head to the side. “You’re forgiven.”
He’d found that magic spot this afternoon. He licked his tongue across it, and her fingertips dug into his shoulders. Maybe he was starting to know how to read her.
He smoothed his hands higher and tucked them right into the crook where her legs met the curve of her ass. It was bare, and the hard-on he’d been battling all afternoon came back with a vengeance.
“How was your afternoon?” he asked.
“Frustrating.”
She shifted her hips from side to side, trying to get his touch where she wanted it to go. He dropped his head and carefully nipped at one of her nipples that was tenting the pretty peach fabric. Her moan was instantaneous.
“I thought we took care of that,” he said.
“Yes, but we didn’t take care of this.”
She wrapped her palm over his crotch and squeezed. Spencer nearly fell off his perch, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she rubbed up and down his length, pausing at the top to grind the base of her hand against him.
Yep, that did the trick.
He stood and yanked his sweatshirt over his head. It felt weird when his hair didn’t brush against his ears, but that seemed to be earning him points. Josie was pressing kisses against his chest, and her hands were already at his zipper.
His heart beat faster.
He slid his hands down low until they wrapped around the tight curves of her ass. Her butt flexed, but she didn’t lose her focus. His zipper slid down, down, down... until he had a hard time hearing it over the pulse in his ears. Her tongue darted out to lick at his nipple as she slid her hand into his briefs.
And then she was there, holding him intimately.
Spencer gritted his teeth when she began to pump him. Her hold skimmed up to the head of his cock and back down to its base. She massaged his balls briefly, before gliding back up so she could swirl her thumb around the tender crest of his erection.
“Gah, Josie.” His nerve endings sang, and he swelled as she played. “Careful, or this is going to end before it begins.”
She kissed his chest as she wrapped her fingers around him way down low. “You didn’t stop for me.”
He worked her bottom harder, squeezing and petting. “You didn’t want me to.”
“Same for you,” she said.
It was true, but he wanted to be inside her when he came.
He caught her by the nape of the neck and kissed her hard. His hips twitched, pumping into her hand. When her thumb rubbed the underside of his cock, he couldn’t take it anymore.
He pulled away from her, leaving her holding thin air, and quickly reversed their positions. He caught her by the waist and suddenly they were standing as they had on the beach, with him behind her.
“My turn, right?” he said into her ear.
Her breath caught when he gathered up her long top, exposing her to the waist. A firm touch against her spine had her bending forward. She wrapped her hands around the back of the sofa as Spencer pushed his jeans further down and lined himself up behind her.
He’d been aching for this all afternoon.
He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her crease, wetting himself with her juices. It hadn’t taken her long to get ready, either. Had she been thinking about him all day, too?
“Are you ready for me?” he asked.
“Don’t tease,” she said, her voice tight.
He settled against her notch and then pushed into her, firm and smooth.
The feel of her pussy clutching at him made Spencer see stars. He closed his eyes against the rush and penetrated her until he was seated all the way in.
Her moan echoed around the room.
It spurred him on, and he began thrusting into her, slowly at first. He drew out each thrust, clamping down on her waist to hold her in place. Her neck arched, and her hair tumbled down her back.
His control slipped, and the pace of his thrusts increased. He was gliding smoothly into her, loving the hot, tight clasp of her.
“Oh, God,” she said. Her hands clamped on to the sofa until her fingers turned white.
Spencer was right there with her. It felt unbelievable.
She pushed up onto her tiptoes, but she was shorter than he was. He solved the problem by catching her hips and lifting her so the angle was better.
She let out a cry when her legs dangled. “Ah! Spencer!”
Her weight was nothing—not for this. He grinned and kept right on fucking her. Oh yeah, all that time in the gym had definitely been worth it. He felt like a freaking superhero.
Her legs flailed, looking for purchase, and he caught her thighs, tilting her forward even more. She caught the cushions below to regain her balance.
“Oh! I don’t know...oh...ohhhhh.”
Sweat beaded on his brow as he slowed down. The position let him go deep. Deeper than he’d ever been in a woman. He could feel her tightness against his tip, and the pleasure gripped him all the way back to his spine. He tested her, slowly rocking his hips to and fro until her words turned to only sounds.
Sounds of surprise... Sounds of excitement...
“Yes or no?” he asked.
She hesitated as if she was unsure.
He ground into her, and the high-pitched cry she made was greedy. She nodded fast.
The reins on his control snapped loose, and he began pumping faster in wide arcs. She braced her hands against the sofa cushions as her belly teetered on the fulcrum of the back of the couch. He controlled the angle of penetration... the speed of their lovemaking... and her. Her hair tumbled forward, and her peach top bunched up under her arms, leaving her bare breasts free to sway and bounce as he took her from behind.
Spencer lost his mind a little when he saw how debauched she looked... and savored how strong he felt... His fingers bit into her thighs as he watched her bottom jiggle in time with his hungry thrusts.
It was too intense to last long. His body slapped against hers repeatedly until her knees suddenly clamped hard around his hips. The feel of her pussy grabbing him as she came set him off. His head reared back, and his hips bucked as he came into her, wet and long.
All he saw was white, and his heart galloped in his ears. The pleasure was blinding.
Or maybe that was just the overhead light.
Spencer sagged when the orgasm’s clutches finally let him go, but he found his footing and held Josie protectively.
She was lying limp over the back of the sofa with her legs wrapped around his hips. He was still deep inside her, softened, but erect.
“Damn,” he whispered. That was one for the record books.
He stroked his hand up and down her spine. “Strawberry?”
“Mmmmm.”
She was still only making sounds, and it made his chest swell. He’d done that. The tables had been turned. He drew her upright, and her feet dropped heavily to the floor. He carefully pulled out of her and picked her up in his arms.
He checked out the apartment situation and judged the distance to the bedroom. His drawers were down to his thighs, but he’d have to drop Josie to take them off. He’d have to get there on a shuffle.
She turned her face into his neck as he began the long trek. “Spencer.” She sighed.
He never knew how much a good haircut could do.
The light from the living room cast a blade of light across the bedroom, and he used it to guide him to the bed. He laid her upon the mattress and pulled the peach top over her head. He worked the covers over her and then began stripping off his shoes and whatever else was still on his body.
He crawled in beside her, and she rolled toward him. Her hand settled against his waist, and her breaths blew against his chest.
Spencer rested against the pillow. “Did you hear me say that the photographs are off Photo Giraffe?”
“I saw they were gone. I’ve been checking all afternoon.”
“You were supposed to relax.”
“I’m relaxed now.”
So was he. Sleep was tugging at him. He cupped his hand over her bottom to keep her close. He’d finally gotten her into bed, but only to sleep.
He still had work to do.
* * *
An electronic beeping sound woke Spencer up sometime later. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. All he knew was that he’d slept hard. The beeping fluttered at the edges of his consciousness like a mosquito refusing to go away.
He rolled onto his back and listened, trying to identify the source of the noise. It was in the apartment somewhere, but it wasn’t in the bedroom. It wasn’t anything he recognized; not his phone, Mac, or any of the other various electronic equipment he knew was in his backpack.
Beside him, Josie shifted on the bed.
The noise wasn’t stopping. “Jos,” he said.
“Mmmm,” she huffed.
“There’s an alarm going off.”
Her reaction was delayed. He thought she’d fallen back asleep when she suddenly sat up in bed. “The lasagna.”
His eyes popped open at that. “Lasagna?” On cue, his stomach growled. “You made dinner?”
“It sounded good.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed. “And I had time today to do a lot of things I normally don’t get to do.”
She wanted to feed him? He pushed back the covers. He was down with that.
She got up, and the slash of light from the living room lit her naked body. All sleek and toned and fresh. His gaze stuck to her like glue.
There was always another option: let the pasta burn and stay right here in bed.
“You’re wrong about all that work in the gym,” he said. She glanced his way from where she stood at the closet. “It shows.”
She pulled on a robe and looped the belt around her waist. “You’re just trying to get me to make garlic bread.”
“You’re a babe, Strawberry Girl,” he called after her.
Total babe.
And she wanted to be with him. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that. He ruffled his short hair and reached for the lamp on the nightstand. He found his jeans on the floor and stood to pull them on.
It was when he was zipping up that he noticed it. He stopped and stared at the bed. His gaze slowly moved up to the headboard, the window, and the vanity on the far side of the room.
Oh, hell.
Josie bounced back into the room, light on her feet. “Could you keep an eye on the garlic bread while I clean up real quick? It only needs about—” She stopped when she saw the look on his face. “What? What’s wrong?”
He glanced at her. He didn’t want to spoil their night together, but she’d caught him. He folded his arms over his chest and nodded at the bed. “This is where the bastard took those pictures, isn’t it?”
Her smile faded. Her gaze followed his, but soon dropped to the floor. “Yes.”
Spencer’s biceps bulged. He wanted to punch something—preferably that ignoramus ex-boyfriend of hers. To do that here, in her space... He reined in his uncustomary temper. She’d blamed herself enough. It was time he helped her move on. “Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”
Her shoulders tensed. “What?”
“Rearranging furniture.” He caught her chin and gave her a fast kiss. “Don’t dawdle. I’m hungry.”
He found his sweatshirt in the living room and headed to the kitchen. Delicious scents filled the air, and steam rose from the lasagna in the casserole dish on the counter.
His senses fought for his attention, but his head was still right back in that bedroom. He knew every one of the photos that had been posted. He knew every last detail. He didn’t know why it surprised him to find that the bastard had betrayed her in her own home, yet it did. Anger burned its way deep into his chest.
They had to put an end to this. He had to get her away from this Nolan creep and out from under his influence. She should be able to relax and make all the lasagna she wanted. It was past time Spencer looked into this guy more closely.
A hard smile formed on his lips. He was easygoing, but that was something that nobody wanted—a techie looking into your Internet footprint.
By the time Josie appeared in the kitchen, Spencer had himself under control.
And a plan in mind.
He also had the garlic bread out of the oven. He’d found a bag of salad in her refrigerator and had separated the leafy greens into two bowls. He lifted two kinds of salad dressing from the refrigerator door. “Ranch or Italian?”
“Italian, of course.”
He put the other back and closed the refrigerator, but stopped with his hand on the door. She had a weird look on her face again. Not bad, but as always, he couldn’t quite read it. “What?” he asked.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Nothing.”
He stepped in front of her. “Am I making myself too much at home?”
“No.” She laid her hand against his chest. “I was just thinking how nice it is to have you here.” Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his cheek. “Really nice, my gorgeous Guard Dog.”
His heart swelled until his ribcage could barely contain it. That was good, because he hoped to be here a lot. “You ready to eat?” he asked.
“I’m starving.”
They shared a grin. They’d worked off enough calories.
The meal they shared was delicious, from the lasagna, to the crisp garlic bread, right down to the chocolate ice cream she found in her freezer. Spencer helped clean up and load the dishwasher, but their next task was in his brain.
He really, really wanted to scrub all reminders of No-good Nolan out of this place. He grabbed his backpack and unzipped it. “You know, I think there’s a website that helps people rearrange rooms.” He sat down on the sofa with his Mac and began searching. “Yeah, here it is. You put in the dimensions of everything and then you can play with the setup, moving things around until you like them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Software?”
He pulled back as if wounded. “Yeah, what are you going to do? Just wander in and start moving things around aimlessly?”
She swept her hair back. It was a glorious, loose mess of strawberry-blonde waves around her shoulders. “Do you not know me at all yet?”
She went to the roll-up desk over by the windows. When she returned to sit next to him on the couch, she had a big art pad and a snap case filled with more colored gel pens than he’d ever seen in his life.
“There cannot be that many colors,” he said.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Want to bet?”
Against her? Never.
Their shoulders bumped as he clicked, and she drew out a quick sketch.
Spencer craned his head to see what furniture was in the bedroom. Anything in the shadows or around the corner was a guess. He’d had other things on his mind beyond her decorating skills when he’d been in there. “I’m too full to go measure everything,” he said.
Not only was she smart and pretty, the woman could cook.
She switched to a different color of pen for the dresser. “My knees are still like Jell-O.”
He looked at her sharply. She concentrated on her work, but her line wobbled. Heat rose inside him.
“Then we’d better hurry about getting that bed ready,” he growled under his breath.
Her breath hitched, and her pen moved faster across the paper.
Her way turned out to be quicker, but it was less easy to adjust. Spencer could move items around with ease, but without Josie’s elaborate color-coding, everything looked utilitarian and boring—everything her bedroom was definitely not.
She glanced at his modified design. “You can’t put the dressing table there.”
“Why not? It’s close to the bathroom. The light should be good.”
“Right, and if the chair isn’t pushed in, I’ll run into it in the middle of the night.”
“Oh. Right.” He didn’t need bruised shins. “I don’t think the dresser will fit in the corner like that.”
Josie cocked her head. “Maybe we should go see.”
He was right. They sat on the bed and changed their plans, combining ideas until they had one they both liked—although since it was her apartment, Spencer gave up on trying to string an HDMI cord from the TV to the bed so he could use it as a monitor for programming.
She taped the winning design to the wall and rubbed her hands together. Spencer felt the stir of attraction. She’d warmed to the idea of changing up her bedroom, and now she was in her milieu: managing and organizing. As she pointed and directed him, he got more and more turned on.
“Let’s pull the bed out to the middle of the room and move the dresser between the windows,” she said. “That will get the hard part out of the way.”
“Want to bet?” he muttered.
The two of them managed to wrangle the bed, but the dresser was heavier. “Watch your toes,” he warned.
She stopped trying. “I can’t lift it. We’ll have to pull the drawers out.”
He let his eyebrows jump. “Did you just ask me to get into your drawers?”
She swatted at him, but he stayed out of reach. Casting him a warning glance, she removed a drawer filled with sweaters.
He took the one next to it and hit the jackpot. “Your underwear drawer!”
She took it away from him fast. “Sex makes you ornery.”
He followed along to look as she put it on the bed. “Hey, I’m living most computer geeks’ dreams. Give me a peek.”
“Get the socks drawer,” she ordered.
Although she was smiling.
Spencer nearly swooned when he pulled out the next drawer. It didn’t hold socks. The frilly, colorful, skimpy material could only be one thing. “Nighties? Lingerie?”
Her cheeks flushed, but a dimple formed next to the smile she was fighting.
“Socks drawer.” She pointed, trying to distract him.
It didn’t work, not when she grabbed a drawer filled with jogging bras and swimsuits. Including some teeny-weeny bikinis.
Spencer moved in on her, and she scooted behind the bed when she saw the look in his eye.
“There’s no room on the bed for us,” she said. Drawers from the dresser were piled everywhere.
“That hasn’t stopped us yet,” he argued.
He caught her and pulled her up against him. Her robe was slinky, and he loved the way it parted to show her breasts. “I need a break, boss.”
“You need a taskmaster.”
“Oooh, kinky. I’m in.”
He caught her in a kiss when she gasped, and she didn’t put up a fight. Her weight settled against him as her arms wrapped around his neck. Spencer’s cock hardened against her belly. He was on a hair trigger these days. Anything she did, the tiniest flip of her hair, and he could get turned on. Knowing that she was as into him as he was into her made it so much easier.
He was going to have to thank Kylie for the haircut advice.
He hitched Josie up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he turned toward the living room. They’d made excellent use of couches before.
He’d just laid her down and was about to follow when a phone rang.
He groaned. Wanting and waiting wasn’t on his list of things to do anymore. “Damn it.”
“No, no.” Josie reached for him. “Don’t answer.”
“I have to. It could be the office.” He wasn’t on call tonight, but if there was a security emergency, he needed to help.
He found his phone in his backpack. “It’s not me.”
Josie’s face fell. They both had the same realization at the same time, and a sharp pinch caught Spencer between the shoulder blades. No, not tonight. Couldn’t the bastard back off for just one night?
She found her phone on the counter. When she saw who was calling, she pulled back as if she’d just seen a snake. “It’s Nolan.”
Spencer’s response was instantaneous. Pure, unadulterated fury rushed through him, settling in his chest, his brain, and his fists. His fingers curled inward. “He must have gotten notice from Photo Giraffe that his account has been frozen.”
Josie’s eyes were wide when she turned to him. “Do I answer?”
It was too late. The phone stopped ringing and rolled over to voicemail.
“Oh, God. I didn’t think this through,” she said. “He’s going to be even angrier, because he’ll know it was me who reported him.”
The color bled from her face, and everything inside Spencer went hard. He’d had it with this goon. One way or the other, it was time for this to stop.
“Should I call him back? Ignore it?” Frantic, Josie flung both hands in the air. When she dropped them, her robe slid open wider and almost off one shoulder. “He left a message.”
Spencer stood beside her. “Play it on speaker.”
“I’m afraid to hear it.”
“Then I’ll listen to it alone.”
She bit her lip, but she hit the buttons on the phone to make the message play. It wasn’t pretty.
“You bitch.” The voice on the other end of the line was harsh and male. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Tattle-telling on me was the worst thing you could have done. Now I know it was you who had the photos taken down. You did the same thing with Say Cheese, didn’t you? Or you got one of your skinny, dorky dweeb friends to do the hack. I bet the authorities would be interested in that.”
Josie made a distressed sound and looked at Spencer. He was angry, but he shrugged. “I’m not skinny anymore.”
He also wasn’t afraid of this guy. Mr. Big Tough Blackmailer didn’t know what hell was about to rain down upon him.
“You think you can best me at this game?” the message continued. “Well, there’s nothing you can do to stop me from emailing your naughty pictures out to everyone I know. Facebook. Instagram. Snapchat. And you know what, Jo Jo? We have a lot of friends in common.”
Josie clamped a hand over her mouth. She looked like she wanted to be sick.
“I’ll send them to porno magazines. Hell, I’ll send them to your grandma. I’m done playing, Josie.”
She reached for the phone as if she wanted to answer before she remembered it was a recording. Then she reached for it again. “I have to call him. I’ll do whatever he wants.”
Spencer caught her hand. “Wait.” There was swearing on the other end of the line, but he sensed there was more coming.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Nolan said. “You’re going to give me what I want—and, sorry, it’s not you. You’re too rigid and frigid for me, but I like the company you keep. You’re going to get me back into Start ’er Up, and you’re going to introduce me to every angel investor and venture capitalist you know. Pay up, honey, and then we’ll talk about you getting your pictures back.”
The message ended abruptly, leaving the room pulsing with quiet. Josie’s chest rose and fell fast. “That’s what he wanted all along, isn’t it?”
Spencer caught her by the shoulders. She didn’t realize it yet, but things had just gotten bigger than her. Her ex wasn’t threatening just her anymore—he’d brought Start ’er Up, and therefore Afire Industries, into the fight.
“What do I do?” she said. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Get dressed,” Spencer said calmly. “It’s time we talked to Luke.”