Page 1 of Sexting Mr. CEO

Chapter One

Sera

"No, no, no," I yell, leaping to my feet as coffee cascades over my laptop, a spark and fizzle foreshadowing disaster. The tail end of my speech remains unsaved, not to mention the code I was reviewing.

Dammit, Sera, what sort of tech girl doesn't back up her work?

Before my coffee catastrophe, I was attempting to focus on my speech for tomorrow and the code my boss needed me to review. We're providing the backend for NeuroDrive, a revolutionary self-driving car product—kind of a big deal. Yet, a silver fox kept staring at me, making me forget all about my responsibilities.

The Consumer Electronics Show is in full swing, with CEOs, tech bros, and tech enthusiasts all congregating to stake their claim on the digital world. During the flight, I even fantasized about meeting a techy guy with spice in his heart and intensity in his eyes. Add some silver-fox energy to the mix, and I'm completely intrigued.

There he was, watching me with a smirk on his lips. Over six feet, wearing a casual shirt with sleeves rolled up, his silver haircatching the light. Were his blue eyes actually sparkling, or did I seriously need to chill?

I was going to do it. I was going to risk a smile. Other women might not find this significant, but for me, it was monumental. Social anxiety is real. Books and computers are infinitely simpler to interact with than people and their perplexing behaviors. Here I was at twenty-four, work-focused, unapologetically nerdy, and ready to make my mark on the tech world. I could do this.

Looking up, I caught his eye, a smile touching my lips. That captivating smirk never left his face. Is this what flirting felt like?

My body lit up, tingling, goosebumps covering my skin like I was the heroines in the romance novels I like to devour. And fine, by romance, I meant smut. No shame. They're the perfect reprieve between long stints in the coding dungeons. I had just decided to wait before smiling at him again when some jerk barged past my table, knocking over my coffee.

"Hey, douchebag," I screech, snapping back to reality, not caring that half the café is staring.

The man pushes the door open, fleeing the scene of the crime. I catch a glimpse of his face—thin smile and dark hooded eyes—but he's wearing a hood... indoors.

"Unplug it."

I turn to find the silver fox standing over me, his finger firmly pressed on the power button.

Flustered, I quickly do as he says.

"Get some paper towels. We need to soak up as much liquid as possible."

"Uh, okay."

"Come on, Sparkplug." Did this stranger just give me a nickname? "Every second counts."

As if in a dream—one from a favorite book—I quickly dash to the counter and grab paper towels. When he takes them from me, our hands touch, causing heat to radiate up my arm. Cue the sparks.

"Sparkplug?" I mutter dumbly.

He laughs gruffly. "It seemed to me like you were going to rip that guy's head off." Holding the laptop up so the liquid drains onto the table, he dabs at it. "We might save this, but we'll need to take it apart and let it dry for at least forty-eight hours. Each individual component needs to be aired."

"Forty-eight... I need the files. Today!"

He narrows his eyes.

"I know, I know," I snap. "I should've backed it up. Don't get all judgmental on me." I squint at him. "What's with the stare?"

His smirk shifts, becoming amused, his blue eyes narrowing with interest. "I'm just considering how skilled I am, choosing the perfect nickname without even knowing your real name."

"Sera. And yours?"

"Luke."

"Well, nice to meet you, Luke," I say. "I'm shocked I didn't back it up. I normally do it at the end of every session. That guy is a jerk."

"We might salvage some files," Luke says. "Once I've drained the liquid here, I'll take it to my room. I've got some hardware tools there."

"Are you sure that's okay? I'm more of a software girl."

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