Page 1 of Cocky Tech God

Lucia

I was sitting at the hotel bar of the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Grand Cayman, taking in the sights, the smells, and the plain gorgeousness of the hotel. It was the first time I’d ever been to a tropical island, so I thought it needed a moment of silence—and an adult beverage. But, alas, the silence wouldn’t be mine. My greatest competitor, Hansen Holte, sat his big, handsome body on the stool next to me, and almost knocked down my drink with his big hand in the process. My gaze slid down to his fingers, thick and perfectly manicured.

I shook my head. This guy was something else.

“Well, look who got invited to the big conference this year.” He grinned and lifted that perfect hand to wave at the bartender.

“And what the hell do you want, Hansen?” I feigned offense, but he knew I was full of it. I would be lying if I said I didn’t like the idea of running into Hansen at the conference, despite a previous faux pas during a conference call a month ago.

This summer conference might actually be fun for more reasons than it was taking place on Grand Cayman Island.

He clicked his tongue. “You know this was fate. I mean, we’ve been dancing around the obvious for years.”

As much as I wanted to avert my gaze, because I suddenly grew hot under the collar, I took him in. His face. Curled-up lip and bedroom eyes intended to seduce me. I was actually very turned on. A hundred percent. But Hansen and I had been playing the seduction game since we met, and he only wanted me because I’d not succumbed to him. How could I when he was known as Hans the Conqueror? Some women even called him a Tech God because he was a technology and cybersecurity genius, in addition to being a god between the sheets. Besides, I would conquer him, not the other way around if and when I wanted. I just hadn’t wanted to.

Yet.

“Oh, Hansen, you know that’s not going to happen.”

My fingers slipped against the sweating cocktail I held. A lusty tingle moved through me. The same tingle I felt when I was around him. I appreciated an attractive man. Especially one with banter who kept me on my toes. Hansen had all that and more.

“Besides,” I continued, “I’m sure there are plenty of women at this conference who would love to give you a chance, Hansen.” The Conqueror. I chuckled. I wondered if he knew about his nicknames. If he did, his ego might inflate to the size of a Macy’s Day Parade float—and that was the last thing the world needed.

“At this tech con?” He glanced around the bar area. Nothing but men and a couple of women who didn’t seem his type sat around us. He’d not looked twice at any of them. “Maybe if we were at a pharmaceutical conference…You know about those pharma-girls, right?” He winked.

I shook my head in mock disgust. “You’re so typical. But you’re right. I don’t see anyone here who might be even close to your type.” I glanced over my shoulder to the other patrons.

“Ah, but you’re my type.” His gaze snapped to my fingers, and then he lifted his mesmerizing green eyes to me, slow, like he would if he were pleasuring a woman with his mouth. My whole body rippled with that image. I bet he was good at it. He continued, “And I’m positive I’m yours.”

True. I wasn’t a nun. As a person who wasn’t the settling-down type, I had flings regularly. And safely, of course. Once I was engaged, but that seemed so long ago. Uncomplicated was my MO, and I knew from all the best chatty Cathys in Manhattan that it was Hansen’s main objective as well. We were two peas in a pod.

Except, I wanted to keep my power in regard to Hansen. And I knew Hansen wanted to keep his power in regard to me. It was a sexy match of chicken that we’d been playing.

“Oh, you think I’m you’re type?” I suspected that his real type were women who bent over backwards for him, literally, and quietly went away.

“Oh, one-hundred percent. You’re easily the hottest woman here.”

I rolled my eyes. “You can’t be that shallow.”

“We’d have the best-looking kids.” He couldn’t contain his laugh.

That would never happen. I hid my hands under the bar, feeling serious for once in Hansen’s presence. The topic of kids had never come up. Why would it? I narrowed my gaze, regaining control of my slight emotional plummet. “Oh, you want kids?”

“Of course.” He scoffed in offense. “How could I deny the world of my perfect spawn? And plus, I don’t have to be married to parent children.”

He wasn’t wrong there, but I never expected him—a self-professed playboy—to want to be a father. And to be fair, he and I would have gorgeous children.

If I could have them. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. My throat closed up with a lump that spontaneously formed. But I choked it down, like I always did when the topic of kids came up because getting emotional about that subject did no good. It didn’t change the fact that I would never carry my own child.

“Sorry. I can’t say I’d want to birth an army of your clones.” I averted my attention to the menu on the bar. I needed a second to take a breath.

His deep chuckle penetrated me from the maybe half-foot distance between us, and I lifted my eyes to meet his. A pause grew between us, amplifying the effect this man had on me. Ever since I’d met him at a cybersecurity workshop in New Jersey two years ago, just after I’d started my company, LM Software, aka LMS, I couldn’t stop the attraction that grew stronger between us with each meeting. And even though we both also served on the board of the New York Technology Professionals Society, which threw us together on a regular basis, I would not succumb to our mutual attraction—we were too connected in our professional lives. Needless-to-say, sitting there so close, right next to him, I was liable to burst into flames with the compounded sexual energy roiling between us.

“Oh, I don’t know, Lucia. I think you would love to have my kids. You think I’m the cat’s meow.” Hansen’s seductive growl sounded too close to my ear, as if he were only inches from me, but I wouldn’t acknowledge how his proximity affected me by making eye contact again.

“Excuse me?” My heart thrummed with excitement. Our verbal foreplay had definitely reached another level.

“Seems you’re forgetting what I overheard on our last conference call.”

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