Bedding the Geek Tycoon (6 page)

She tilted her head to the side, watching Oscar writhe on the driveway with his hands over his face. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing him bleed on the ground. He even made pathetic, gurgling whimpers, which warmed her down to the cockles of her heart.

Jenn didn’t expect to see her office ever again, so she didn’t think she would be seeing Oscar, either. She wanted to remember him exactly like this: bleeding through his manicured fingers and getting it all over his expensive Armani suit. She savored the image.

“I forgive you,” Jenn finally said.

Ryan gave Oscar one more solid kick. “Ready to go?” he asked over Oscar’s groans.

“Definitely.”

Six

Ryan didn’t take Jenn on the familiar roads back to her apartment. “Do you mind if we visit my house first? We’ll need to shower off your boss’s blood, and my bathroom’s bigger than yours.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I take that to mean we’re showering together?”

“It’s more economical,” he said, totally straight-faced.

“You know, Ryan Stone, I think you do have a sense of humor.”

The corner of his mouth only twitched.

They turned into a neighborhood higher on the hill than Oscar’s. The mansions made his house look pathetic in comparison. There were statues, manicured topiaries, and more marble than Jenn thought could be quarried in a single country.

Ryan pulled up to the biggest one in the neighborhood.

She gasped. “Where are we?”

“This is my house.”

“You afford this on an engineer’s salary?”

The corners of his mouth drew into a frown. “Not exactly.”

A butler greeted them and took the truck. An actual, for reals, pencil-mustache-and-white-gloves
butler
. Jenn stood in the middle of his circular driveway, feeling numb.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“I haven’t been honest with you. This is my attempt to change that. Will you come inside?”

What other choice did she have? The truck was already being taken to a garage bigger than Jenn’s apartment. But even more than that, she couldn’t resist the need for answers.

The hallway had a huge, sweeping staircase. A chandelier. A freaking
piano
.

And there was a massive painting of a gray-haired man in a pinstripe suit hanging on the wall. Jenn tipped her head to the side, studying the portrait. “Grandpa Stone?”

Ryan’s body pressed against her back. His hands smoothed down her shoulders. “Patrick Turner.” A beat. “My father.”

She gasped and turned around. “You’re the son of Patrick
Turner
? As in, founder of Turner Industries, Patrick Turner?”

He looked pained. The expression was confirmation enough. “That encryption I brought to you—it’s the algorithm protecting all of Turner’s employee and client data. You’re the best security programmer in the industry. I had to know if you could crack it, so that I could learn how to protect it better. So I could protect my
employees
better. The virus was to ensure you couldn’t keep the solution from me.”

She stared at him. When she didn’t respond, he went on.

“I did some research before approaching you. I put together a profile.” He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “What I found… a brilliant mind, a perfect ass, and problems with authority. I couldn’t imagine you would take it well if I approached you as owner of Turner Industries. I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

Jenn gaped, but only part of what he’d said managed to penetrate her skull. “Perfect ass?”

His hand slid down her spine to cup her posterior, giving it a possessive squeeze. The gesture pulled her pelvis hard against his. “I couldn’t commission an artist to sculpt one better.”

“But you used me. Took advantage of my trust.” Her throat grew thick, and her eyes burned.

He slid two fingertips under her chin and tipped her head up. Ryan bent down and brushed his lips across the tears on her cheekbone, then down the side of her face, kissing the tears that shivered on the bottom of her jaw. Jenn let her eyes fall shut.

“I will always regret that,” he murmured. “I hope you can find a way to forgive me.”

Jenn searched for words and found nothing. She stepped back from his distracting strokes and stared at her hands. Oscar’s blood was still on them. “I want to shower now. Alone, I think.”

He gave an understanding nod and showed her to the bathroom. The tub was the size of a small swimming pool.

After all the ways he had dominated her body, she half-expected him to climb in with her, even though she asked to be alone. But he only came into the bathroom long enough to drop off a fluffy towel and bathrobe, and then left.

She showered alone in the glass block shower, taking time to think as she massaged soapy water over her limbs.

So Ryan Stone wasn’t just a brilliant programmer. He was rich. He was powerful.

He had rocked her world in more ways than one—romanced her and fucked her and turned her life upside-down.

Most significantly, Ryan had lied to her. Used her.

He had also apologized.

So what was the truth? Was Ryan Stone a ruthless man out to commit corporate espionage? Or was he just looking out for his employees and clients, without regard for who he might step on while he did it?

When she emerged, she found him contemplating another painting in the hallway. It was the same man from the foyer—Patrick Turner—but he was younger, and he looked a lot like Ryan. He had a little boy at his side.

Hesitantly, Jenn wrapped her arms around Ryan from behind. His muscles were tense.

She pressed her cheek between his shoulder blades. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” she whispered. “I want to, but… you put a virus on my computers. You lied. It’s a hell of an introduction.”

He didn’t move. “I know.”

“But I
want
to trust you. I want to believe you’re sorry.”

Finally, he turned. There was so much love and pain in his eyes.

“Let me show you,” he said.

Ryan took her to his bedroom, with its massive four poster bed and window overlooking the pond in his back yard.

Cupping the back of her neck, his lips traveled to her collarbone. The light stubble on his cheeks scraped gently against her tender flesh. With a smooth motion, he opened the robe and pushed it off her shoulders.

He laid her back on the bed, kissing her hips, her thighs. Ryan straightened to undress, and Jenn watched as he slowly undid every button of his shirt, revealing the smooth planes of his chest. He pulled the shirt out of his pants and dropped it at the end of the bed. It draped over Jenn’s foot.

Slowly, he undid his belt and lowered his slacks. The hard lines of the muscles at his hips looked touchable, but not nearly as touchable as the arousal visible underneath his briefs. And then Ryan stood in front of her, completely naked, without ever dropping his gaze from her eyes. It was an offer. A promise.

He touched her like he was a sculptor and she was his masterpiece, molding her muscles with his powerful hands, stroking her lines and warming her flesh. Ryan breathed life into her with his laving tongue and roaming lips. When he placed a kiss upon the heat between her legs, Jenn gasped and arched, hands clutching at the bed sheets.

His tongue worked its way inside of her. She spread her legs, and he helped push her knees apart to give him better access. Jenn’s fingers stroked against the back of his head, echoing his ministrations as they sent ripples of heat up her spine.

He sucked at her clit, and then bit it lightly. It sent her moaning over the edge with her eyes squeezed shut.

Jenn rode out the orgasm without opening her eyes, and she didn’t realize that Ryan had slipped up her body and settled between her legs until he kissed her on the lips. He tasted of her own juices, and when he murmured her name, it was enough to make her look at him again. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

The only response she gave was to wrap her arms around his back, drawing him close to kiss him again. Jenn’s thighs slipped up either side of his body, pressing against his ribcage. She wanted to be enveloped and lose herself in him.

He was hard between her legs, and she was slick, but Ryan held himself at her entrance. Cradling her head between his hands, he whispered as he kissed her cheeks, the tip of her nose and chin, her throat: “It’s okay, Jenn, it’s okay…”

“Is it?” she murmured, gazing into his eyes.

“I promise,” said Ryan, hands cupping her breasts as he sucked and kissed them.

Catching his lips with hers again, she slid a heel to the base of his spine and pressed. His hardness slid inside of her, and he groaned against her lips as she pushed him until his hips connected with hers. It was almost too much—he stretched her to the limit. Jenn had never felt so full.

She wanted more.

Jenn tightened her arms around his neck as he began to work in and out of her tight body, making sure she felt every single inch. Each time, he went in to the hilt and paused for an instant before drawing out again, as though he were as reluctant to separate from her as she was from him.

With her face pressed into his shoulder, she felt no anger. No betrayal. She only felt his body against hers, and inside of hers, and she let herself disappear into the pleasure.

He climaxed with a growl, throwing his head back and driving deep into her once more. The feel of him pulsing inside of her was enough to send Jenn over the edge again, head bowed against his chest and legs tight around his body.

The moment stretched for eternity.

Was she okay
? There were no answers in the white haze of bliss, either.

Jenn came back into herself piece by piece as her muscles relaxed. Her arms and legs loosened their grip around Ryan. He didn’t move from inside her, keeping his body suspended over hers on his elbows. Her body tightened and released with the last vestiges of orgasm, and each time she clenched around him, he jerked in reaction. Each small motion sent aftershocks of pleasure through her.

Even that passed eventually, and he drew himself out of her, laying a slow, unhurried kiss on her lips. Then they picked themselves up and cleaned themselves off silently in the bathroom, whisking the sweat off each other’s bodies with fluffy white towels.

Ryan was the one to take Jenn back to bed, pulling the sheets back and settling himself underneath with his arms wide in invitation.

“I love you, Super Jenn,” he murmured.

She hadn’t expected to hear it, but it was exactly what she needed. She smiled at him in the darkness. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m better than okay.”

And she hoped they would be okay together for a very long time.

About the Author

I have a filthy mind and a mouth that always gets me into trouble, one way or another. I like my meat rare, my men dominant, and my panties nonexistent. If you would like to be notified of my next release, sign up here:
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—
Desiree
xoxo