Chapter 16
It’s been a few weeks since our little wrestling match on the office floor and a week since he beat the shit out of Stephen. Not a word has been mentioned about that night and I’d like to forget it even happened.
Hacker is frustrating the hell out of me. I can’t stop thinking about him: the way I felt caged in with him on top of me, the way my body responded in wanting him to take me right then and there, or the way he has been giving me little touches here and there since.
Like right now, I’m glancing at him from across our desks. He has that serious-but-sexy look where his features are hard and stern and his brows are pulled down tight. He’s staring at his computer in deep concentration, his hand runs over his beard, and his tongue peeks out, skimming across the seam of his lips. Gah, I’ve thought about that tongue, those fingers and lips so many times over the last week, it’s ridiculous.
Shaking my head, I look down at the newspaper in front of me on my desk. An article catches my attention...
Dennis Yearly, 55 years old, is missing. He was last seen leaving his residence to go to work. If you have any information, please contact local authorities.
My eyes widen; that’s the man that drove drunk and killed Hacker’s family. Oh, my God! Did he have something to do with his disappearance?
I snap my head up. “Hacker?” I question. Maybe I shouldn’t even ask.
“Yeah?”
I wave my hand. “Nothing, never mind.”
He pushes away from his desk, so I quickly shut the newspaper; he struts over to me and sits on the edge of my desk.
He reaches out, grazing his fingers across my cheek, and pushes my hair behind my ear. “Spit it out, Red.”
I stand. “I was just, uh, going to go check on the girls.” I start to walk towards the door, but he reaches out, grabbing my arm and pulling me back to him.
One hand rests on my hip while the other traces down my spine. See, frustrating! All these little flirtatious ways he touches me turns me on, and it’s so damn aggravating. “Let’s go for a ride.”
“On your motorcycle?” I ask stupidly.
He grins, knowing he has me flustered. “Yeah, on my bike.”
Someone knocks on the office door. “C’mon,” Hanger responds without letting me go.
Demon opens the door, looks at the two of us, and shakes his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just figuring some numbers,” he tells us in his deep rough voice.
Hacker takes my hand in his. “We’re leavin’.” He pulls me out of the office, through the club, and out to the parking lot. “You ever been on the back of a bike, Red?”
“No.” My brows knit and I cross my arms over my chest. “And I don’t remember agreeing to now.”
He looks over his shoulder with a smirk. “But you would have. Climb on, wrap your arms around me, and hold on tight.” He straddles the motorcycle first and waits for me to follow.
Sighing in aggravation because I totally would have agreed, I straddle the motorcycle. It rumbles to life and the vibration hits between my legs, making me jump in surprise. Hacker takes off and, in yet another surprise, doesn’t go towards the highway; instead he goes in the opposite direction.
A few minutes into the ride I relax and start to enjoy the freedom. I’m not sure how long we ride for, but Hacker pulls up to a lake and shuts off the motorcycle. He gets off first, helps me off, and then leans against his bike. He pulls me to him, my back against his front, and wraps his arms around my shoulders. I hold his forearms with my hands as we silently look out at the moonlight glowing against the rippling water. It’s nice out here, quiet.
“I like to come here sometimes when I just wanna get away,” he says ardently against my ear.
I respond quietly, “It’s nice.”
“I don’t know why you forgave me so easily, but I’m fuckin’ grateful you did.”
I shrug. “Because it went on for too long and I understood why you were so angry.”
“You have a good heart, Red, I don’t wanna destroy it.”
I lightly laugh. “I don’t want you to, either.” I want to steer away from the heavy talk, so I change the direction of our conversation. “How did you become a Satan’s Sinner?”
“I was eighteen, fresh outta high school, and had a scholarship for MIT.”
“MIT?” I repeat, shocked.
He chuckles. “Yeah, on paper I’m a genius, Red. So, I went for a while and I met some people. They got me to hack some shit for them and I got caught. I wasn’t smart about covering my tracks back then.” He laughs and continues, “I ended up having to do a stint in federal prison. My cellmate knew Hanger’s grandpa; he started the Satan’s Sinners. My life in Massachusetts was over so I got out, moved to Kansas, and became a prospect. I met Tisha and at first it was a one-night stand, but when she came to me and said she was pregnant I wanted to do the right thing so we got married, had Max. It didn’t take long for me to realize how amazing she was and I fell so fuckin’ in love with her.”
I blink the tears away and clear my throat. “I’m sorry you lost them.”
“I know, Red, but let’s not talk about it anymore. I’m finally in a good place and ready to move forward.”
“Can I ask you a question?” I bite my lip, nervous as hell to ask it.
“Yeah.”
“I was reading in the paper… Dennis Yearly is missing, did you have anything to do with that?”
He turns me around to face him and rests his hands on my hips. His eyes are solely focused on mine. “Don’t ask questions you really don’t want the answer to.”
I nod. Oh, God, he did! Why would he say that if he didn’t? But I know the Satan’s Sinners are not exactly the good guys. All the ladies have to know, and if they are okay with what these guys do, could I be okay with it, too?
His eyes search mine while he cups my cheeks with his hands. “I might be a genius on paper, but I was real fuckin’ stupid when it came to you.” My lips part with a hushed gasp. Hacker leans in, but stops just shy of touching my lips with his. He turns his head and clears his throat. “We should get back.”
I nod and step back. “Yeah, we should.”
With the moment between us broken, we climb back on the bike and ride back to Stilettos. It’s almost time for closing, so instead of going back inside, I get in my SUV and drive home.
I lay awake for a few hours, thinking about the almost kiss until, finally, I fall asleep—only to have it torment me in my dreams.
For the couple months I’ve worked beside Hacker, sharing the same space, seeing him every day, and joking with him. My feelings for the man that once hated me have begun to change. His eyes… I’ve watched those eyes, once cold and dead, come alive and become a vibrant, stunning hazel. Not too long ago, they used to scare me, afraid of what he could do to me. Now, I’m scared for a different reason. I’m scared of what he could give me, what he makes me feel, and how my body reacts to him.
The heat and lust I see in his eyes turns me on so much that most nights I lie in bed trapped in thoughts of him, wishing he was here. It’s so intense I find myself reaching between my legs, touching my most intimate spot. I draw my release closer and closer as I imagine it’s Hacker’s tongue, fingers, and cock until I’m breathlessly panting his name.
I need to quit thinking about it because I’m turning myself on right now, just sitting at my desk across from him. Even though I’m tense from a long week at the clinic, it doesn’t deter my attraction or want for Hacker. But…he’s so back and forth it gives me whiplash. When I think he’s going to make a move he stops himself and once the moment is over he acts like nothing happened. Until the next time, and so on and so on.
I refocus my thoughts to the baby I had to deliver a few days ago by caesarian section that wasn’t due for a couple more months. The mother’s placenta detached, and now the baby is in the NICU until he can breathe without oxygen needing to be administered; gain enough weight; and no longer needs extra heat. The mother is doing okay, but she’s scared and worried for her son. I’m worried for him, too. He’s strong, a fighter, and I know they are taking amazing care of him in the NICU.
It’s stressful working both jobs, trying to focus on one when I’m at the other, and I’m not getting much sleep working so many hours while dealing with Mark. He’s been restless at night, pacing around the house not knowing where he is or why he’s there. He’s getting worse and we all know it. But we all have to sit back and watch it happen. There’s nothing we can do to help him, make him better, or change the situation. It’s frustrating, sad, and it makes me angry that it happened to my brother. He had so much to look forward to, but this horrible disease took it all away from him.
I roll my head side to side, trying to relieve some of the pressure. I rest my elbows on the desk and cup my head in my hands.
“You’re tense.” Hacker’s strong hands rub my shoulders. “What’s up?”
“Just a long week and not much sleep.” His thumbs push into my tight muscles, and I moan at the feeling. “That feels so good.” I close my eyes.
His hands move up to my neck and another moan slips free. A pounding ache forms between my legs. He’s turning me on just from a massage! Jesus, it’s been too long since I had sex. Well, yeah, a man hasn’t touched me since my ex-husband. As his fingers dig into my tense muscles, I think, This may be the best massage I’ve ever had. I can’t stop another sound that bursts out of me.
“You gotta cut it out with the noises, Red.” Gah, the tone of his voice is making it worse. I swear it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard; it’s rough and gravelly. His tone is absolute and dominating; he’s the total opposite of my ex.
His fingers move into my hair, gripping it tightly and steering away from the pressure in my head. His hands massage my scalp; I’ve never felt anything so good. A louder moan comes out and Hacker stops. When I look over, he’s at the door. “Thank you.”
“I’m not done yet.” He flips the lock and comes back over, putting his hands back on my shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “You look real fuckin’ good in that leather skirt and tank.”
My eyes widen. “Thank you. I got them at Ever’s store recently.” I needed more clothes, sexier clothes for working here. Maybe I secretly was hoping I could look good for him.
“I’m done with the flirtin’ shit, with nothin’ being done about it. Stand the fuck up.” Oh, my! I’m frozen in my seat. What the hell is happening? Maybe it’s all a dream? This can’t really be happening, can it?
He reaches under my arms and pulls me out of the chair. He kicks the chair away from us and moves in closer to my backside. He sets his hand against my back and pushes me over the desk. My cheek rests against the cold wooden top. His foot nudges my legs apart and his hand on my back travels down my spine slowly, applying gentle pressure to my ass as he glides over it to reach his destination: between my thighs. “Fuck!” he practically growls. “Your panties are soaked, Red.” Oh, my God; this is happening!
He bends down behind me; his fingers hook into the sides of my red lace thong, and he rips them clean from my body. “I smell the sweet scent of your arousal. Gotta taste you, Red.” His tongue laps at me, front to back. The sensation makes me jump from surprise; it’s been so long, but Stephen was never good at foreplay.
When he would try to do this to me, it was like he took the phrase “eating out” literally, because it felt more like he was biting than anything. It definitely didn’t feel good. I was faking orgasms most of the time. How sad is that?
Oh, my! My eyes screw closed as Hacker pulls me from thoughts of my ex and brings me back to the amazing way his tongue feels against my clit. I claw at the desk, trying to find something to dig my nails into. My mouth opens wide as I begin moaning loudly.
“Fuckin’ hell! Sweet sounds mixed with your sweet flavor...”
“Don’t talk! Keep going!” I beg.
“You like my tongue on you? Ride my face like a greedy little bitch and get what you need, Red.” Oh, God! His words… I’ve never had anyone talk dirty to me, and it’s so sexy. I cry out in pleasure.
Hacker’s tongue circles my clit over and over until he drags it through my folds, front to back again, tormenting me. Quick little movements with just the tip of his tongue have my body shaking; my legs feel heavy, and my hips start to move. “Hacker! Oh, God!” I grind my pussy into his face, rolling my hips and trying to get more.
“That’s it, Red, take it!” He pushes two digits inside of me, and with another one he applies pressure to my other hole. Stephen never tried that! I don’t try to stop Hacker because, well, it feels amazing, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before; my orgasm is barreling forward.
“Ahh,” I cry as I move faster; my orgasm continues growing closer and closer. Stars dance behind my closed eyelids.
His fingers plunge quickly in and out, and his tongue moves in fast little circles, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Everything is perfect, he’s so skilled, and I might pass out from pleasure. Is that possible?
The burn in my core ignites, and Hacker pushes the button, detonating me; I explode into a million tiny pieces. I scream, “Hacker!”
He hums against me, giving his approval as he continues lapping at me until my release stops. I can’t move, I’m breathless, and I feel the head of his cock rubbing against my swollen sensitive clit, but it makes me moan with want. “So fuckin’ good, Red.”
He slowly slides inside of me like he’s savoring the feeling. He pulls back out and slowly pushes back in. He continues the slow torture until I can’t take it anymore. “Hacker, please,” I whimper.
He leans over my body, puts one hand flat on the desk, and his other hand delves through my hair. He grips a handful and pulls my head back. “You want more?”
“Yes!” I cry. He pushes harder, faster.
“You like that, Red? You like feeling me fuck your sweet wet cunt?” he asks as he pounds into me.
“Yes!” I moan.
“Then let me fuckin’ hear you!” He drives into me over and over.
“Yes! Hacker, yes!” I scream.
Each stroke he delivers is rough, meticulous, and calculated. Still pulling my head back, he yanks it to the side. His lips touch my ear. “You feel fuckin’ amazing,” he whispers, his hot breath featherlight as it hits my flesh; my skin pebbles with goosebumps. His lips touch the crook of my neck, tenderly kissing my flesh. He peppers kisses along the side of my neck; it’s a complete contrast to every hard thrust.
“You feel so good, too,” I breathlessly moan. My second orgasm washes over me in waves of pleasure.
“That’s it!” he praises as I come down from my release.
Hacker pulls out, flips me over, and has me lying on my desk as he stands above me. My legs wrap around his waist, and he pushes inside of me once again and begins setting his pace.
He grips my hips hard with his hands, hard enough he’s going to leave bruises, but I love it. Reaching out, I grab his forearms, digging my nails into his tattooed skin. I tighten my hold on him with my legs, pulling him in closer, and my head tilts back on the desk. “I’m close again,” I moan, my eyes closing as I relish in the ecstasy.
“Let go,” he demands as his own release takes over. His groans of pleasure and the feeling of him losing control cause me to go over the edge once again.
He lowers himself down, putting his forehead on my chest. I lay one hand on top of his head and run my fingers through his hair while we try to catch our breath. I stare at the ceiling, not knowing what to say but thinking that was amazing and the best sex I’ve ever had.
After a few minutes he lifts himself up, breaks our connection, and pulls his jeans back up. He holds his hand out to help me up, and I adjust myself the best I can—until I feel his cum running down my thighs. I’m about to excuse myself to go to the bathroom, but he’s already holding out a stack of napkins for me. “Thank you,” I say awkwardly, and take them to clean myself up. Walking over behind his desk, I throw them in his trash. His hand on my hip startles me; I spin around to face him.
“Go home and get some rest.” He kisses my forehead; I realize just now that he never kissed me on the lips.
A ping in my stomach makes me start to have regrets about what just happened. The sex was amazing—Hacker was amazing—but I don’t just fuck people. I don’t have one-night stands. He’s the first man I’ve been with since my husband, and I don’t want to just be another notch for someone. I wonder how many he’s had in here?
“Yeah, okay, uh, thanks.” I don’t look at him as I grab my belongings and get the hell out of there. Tears begin to blur my vision; why did I let that happen? Why did I have to let the line get crossed?
I race home, unlocking the front door to find that, thank God, Shelly is still awake.
“Sierra, what’s wrong?”
“I messed up, Shelly.” I swipe away a tear that’s trickled down my cheek.
“How? What happened?” She pours us each a glass of wine and I follow her to the couch with the bottle in tow.
“I started wanting him. I mean, really wanting him.” I take a sip of the sweet red liquid. “It’s all I’ve thought about.”
“Understandable.” She nods. “The man is seriously sexy, Sierra.”
“He’s a beautiful beast is what he is.” I huff, annoyed with myself and him. “Anyway, so we have been flirting back and forth, but tonight that line got crossed.”
Her brows arch. “You mean you had sex with him?”
“Yes.” I nod, swallowing a mouthful of wine.
She stares at me in confusion. “What’s the problem? Why are you upset?”
“Because!” I screech. “How many others has he fucked in that office? That’s not me! I don’t just fuck people, Shelly.” I finish my glass and set it on the coffee table.
“Honey, you were long past due for a good time. I’m assuming it was good, right?”
“Amazing!” I nod.
“Then that’s all that matters. Don’t overthink it.” She pats my shoulder.
“Maybe you’re right.” I bite my bottom lip.
“Oh, I know I’m right, and if I was in your shoes I wouldn’t be upset. I’d be walking with a swag in my step and a huge smile on my face.” She giggles.
“Shelly!” I scold with a laugh.
She shrugs. “Just telling you the truth.”
We talk for a while longer and finish the bottle of wine before I stagger my tired self to my bedroom. I grab an old t-shirt out of my drawer and a clean pair of panties before I go into my bathroom to shower. When I remove my clothes, I look at my hips—sure enough, bruises have already started to appear, reminding me of what happened, and the sting between my legs will be a reminder for the next few days.
I quickly get done showering and lie in my bed. Even though I’m exhausted, I toss and turn, staring at the ceiling because I can’t quit thinking about Hacker.