“What the fuck,” I muttered, staring at the middle computer screen in my sunny, albeit temporary, corner office at Wyntech Industries.

Brock Tyson strolled in with an attitude, not having heard my confused expletive, but definitely with an agenda. As the Chief Financial Officer, and total complete prick, he took one look at my grungy boots, torn blue jeans and graphic t-shirt that in bold white letters read Fuck The Man, and stopped in his tracks. He inhaled and raked his neatly trimmed haircut with irritated fingers.

Ever though I was a little freaked out by what I’d just seen in my inbox, I took one look at Brock and readied myself for some entertainment. Leaning way back in the expensive leather chair they’d bought at my request, I glanced to the seven-feet-high fountain and asked the yuppie, “You think this is big enough? I want it to be the new home for live Koi, but what if they feel too stifled?”

A sneer darkened Brock’s hairless upper lip. I’m sure his clean shave hated my stubble. And I bet that tie wished it could be undone.

Brock didn’t answer my question, knew I’d asked it just to be annoying. This jerk was teeming with jealousy of my money, how I earned it, and that we both knew I was smarter than he was, regardless of his graduating from Vassar. He isn’t dragging his knuckles on the ground by any means. He’s just not me.

Brock was the hottest thing in the King and Queen Towers. And like the crowns that rest atop both skyscrapers, he thought he was royalty. This was where Wyntech rents office space. Floors upon floors of it. And he was the head honcho under the CEO, some guy named Charlie Reed whom I had yet to meet. Probably golfs every day and leaves the business to Brock. Who the fuck knows, but this dick is the one head I’ve seen.

Despite that these buildings are iconic and Atlanta is proud of them, my footsteps had never been heard on the tile before the day I was hired. Word spread I was here and why, and people felt relief.

Brock’s throne was threatened.

Why he recommended me for this job I have no fucking clue. Maybe he was smarter than I gave him credit for, because the mess this corporation was in needed someone like me to fix it.

But he and I had a history that reached back to high school.

“You represent Wyntech when you sit behind that obnoxious desk we paid for, in front of that ridiculous fountain. Dress like it. I don’t want Charlie meeting you like this, with you looking like a fucking hipster.”

Smirking I said, “I look at my personal style more like I don’t give a fuck, geek chic.”

He growled, “Dress like you belong here. Wear a suit for chrissakes.”

“Aren’t you afraid we’d be preppy-twinsies?”

His nostrils flared. “Don’t mock me, Cocker.”

I spun my black leather, luxury office chair from side to side, smiling up at him, an enormous desk and three huge computers between us. I knew the sight of them galled him, even though he’d given the okay for their purchase. Trouble was he had one computer, and that was all he needed because what he did on it was only, in my opinion, glorified accounting. “You want me to be more like you, Brock? I’m not sure if I can take a couple inches off my height.”

“I’m six-two,” he sneered. “Just like you.”

My eyes shot up and down his body. The guy was good looking for an asshole that’s wound too tight. On a shrug I said, “Really? I guess you just appear small. Like the objects in my Maserati’s side mirrors, only the opposite.”

Brock’s voice shook with rage as he warned me, “It’s no secret how I feel about you. I didn’t want you here.”

“Then why did you bring me on?”

“You know why! But know this, I don’t trust you.”

“Is it a matter of trust, Brock, really?” I dryly shot back. “Because I think you’re still sore I made you stop creeping out my cousin when we were sixteen and you turned full blown stalker.”

His eyes flickered and he jabbed a finger at me. “I loved Hannah!”

“No, you fuckin’ didn’t!” Suddenly irritated, I leaned forward in my chair and got serious. “Lie to yourself, fine, most people do. But don’t sell me your bullshit. You were obsessed with what you couldn’t have, and I put an end to it. Me, Ben and Eric. Yeah, just the mention of their names make you seethe – I see it. But don’t forget I can walk out of here any goddamn minute. We both know I don’t need the money. The only reason I’m here is to figure out how the hacker broke into your secure servers, uncrack his code, create a new one, and outsmart the genius bastard at his own game. I want to know how he did it, otherwise I’d be floating on a raft in Cabo with a beer in my hand. But if you keep coming in here, irritating the fuck out of me, I will walk right on out of these towers and you will be shit out of luck. You hired me because there are only two people on this planet who can solve this, who aren’t in jail or underground. There were three, one died, and that’s the last time I wore a fucking suit. It itched. Did I mention I hate suits? The second is happily making more money than Wyntech could ever pay, living in London with his sexy wife and adorable baby girl. And then there’s me. I’m all you’ve got, fuckhead. One bored computer geek billionaire who loves coding as much as he loves women. So now if you’ll excuse me, I have three computer screens to look at.”

Brock took a step closer. His clenched fist twitched. I was prepared for anything. I knew he was unpredictable. Every cell in my body wanted to punch him out. I’d taken him to the ground before, at Uncle Jaxson’s ranch when we caught him spying on Hannah in the bathroom through the side window. We knew he’d had a thing for her. Couldn’t stop staring at her. Started out normal, at first. Just some teenage boy-girl attraction, which none of us blamed him for because Hannah’s gorgeous. But then Brock wouldn’t even be part of a conversation the second she was in view. Just fixated on her with dead eyes that creeped me the fuck out. When he disappeared while we were trying our first – and last – cigarettes, Eric noticed Brock had slipped away like a weasel while we were coughing up our lungs. We had a bad feeling, went searching and found him on his tiptoes at the window, knee deep in overgrown grass. He tried to fight back but I’m so protective of my family that I gave him the fury of five guys. Eric and Ben stood watch.

That was the last time we ever hung out as friends. The last time we talked civilly to each other. We’d see each other in school and glare at each other and then over time we just stopped looking. He didn’t exist to me until I got the call about this gig. Almost didn’t say yes, except I knew about the hack. It was big news in the technology industry. Stocks plummeted for Wyntech. I was curious how the hacker had broken the encryption. I wanted in.

But now that this psycho was in my face I wanted him to bleed. I even whispered, “Come on, Brock. Punch me.”

He backed up, loosened his fingers and walked out.

My jaw clenched a couple times. All my muscles were tight. I couldn’t take my eyes off the door.

Stacy poked her pretty head inside my office. She saw the look on my face and scooted closer. “Tyson is so angry. Did you find out who caused the security breach? Is that why? Is it someone we know?”

“No,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “He wanted his own coffee and thinks I have too much.”

I meant that, but not about the coffee. I don’t think he even noticed that Stacy had brought me two cups five minutes before he walked in.

She fidgeted, picking at her cuticles. “I should stop bringing you those. I’m sorry, Ethan. I just know you like Americanos.”

“Brock and I have history. It wasn’t about you.”

“Oh?” Her dark eyes became interested. “What happened? Was it about a woman?”

“Kinda,” I muttered, eying Stacy because she was cute as hell. Half Asian. Definitely a blend. Small perky tits, full lips, shiny black hair. Couldn’t be taller than five-two. As an ambitious intern, and only twenty, she attempted to look older than she was in a very professional pencil skirt and silky blouse, sleeves rolled halfway up her slender forearms. I wanted to take her by that low ponytail and blow off some steam.

Cracking a knuckle and reaching for my pen and tablet that I use instead of the normal mouse, I stared at the email again.

I’m coming for you, Ethan Cocker.

The weirdest part about it wasn’t the threat but that there was no original email address. The space was blank and when I tried to reply or forward, where a normal return address would be, there was none. Just a blank space. I’d never seen that before. This note had to be from the hacker and that floored me. He knew I was on the case. This warning was to scare me off but all it did was rev my engine.

I glanced up to see her hovering in front of my desk.

“Why do you bring me these coffees every day, Stacy?”

Her head tilted as her eyes glittered with surprise. “I live by a coffee shop, so it’s no trouble.”

“Do you bring these for everyone?”

A slight smile appeared. “I get them for one other person.”

Leaning back I paused and asked, “You?”

She took the same sexy pause and answered, “Yes.”

We stared at each other and I lowered my voice. “You know I’m not really an employee here. I’m not your superior.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m just some guy they hired to solve a problem.”

“Uh huh. This isn’t harassment,” she flirtatiously smiled.

The back and forth was getting hot, and she was biting her lip with her eyes smoldering more by the second.

She wanted me.

I didn’t want to get sued.

I have a family to think of. Not the wife and kids kind, but my biological family I’d die to protect. This whole city knows who we are; there are so damn many of us. I wasn’t about to let some little intern spending her summer away from Harvard rake me over the media’s coals because she lost her mind after we fucked.

“If I were to bend you over my desk would you want that?”

Her breath hitched. “Yes.”

“You understand I’m not going to hold it against you if you said no.”

“I want you to hold it against me, Ethan.”

My cock jumped against my zipper. “Yeah but you might tell someone.”

“Not a soul. Not even my mother.”

My eyebrows flew up. “Definitely don’t tell her.”

“I tell her everything.”

“Okay, but this time you wouldn’t?”

“Promise,” she breathed.

“I’ll tell you what. Go think about it. Don’t come back here unless you really want me to fuck you over this brand new oak desk.” I slid my hands down it and gave it a little smack, then met her eyes. “It will be just sex. No strings. No babies. Just hardcore fucking.”

She was holding her breath, and she nodded, turned around and walked out of my sunny, albeit temporary, corner office. Then she strolled right back in with the naughtiest smile I’d ever seen.