Page 7 of Hacking His Code
“I mean—”
“Good, because I am never, ever, in a million years—EVER—going to fuck you!”
That’s a shame.
Even in times of extreme duress, men never truly get their heads out of the gutter, and I can confirm that my mind has already envisioned three ways of fucking her since she was dragged into the reception area from the elevator.
But this is business.
Arinessa’s anger is a mask for her fear, and I realize just how terrifying this whole experience must be for her. I never intended to scare her or make her feel unsafe. I have to make this right.
I release her arms and look into her big, doe eyes. God, I could get lost in them.
“Arinessa, can we talk?” I give her a reassuring smile. “I’d like to straighten this misunderstanding out.”
“Misunderstanding? So I misunderstood my kidnapping?”
“How about instead of using the word kidnap, we go with guide? You misunderstood your guide.”
Her jaw gapes at my audacious suggestion, her full lips forming a perfect ‘O.’
My cock twitches at the thought of what I’d like to do with that mouth of hers. I know I should shove the thought from my mind, but it would be a fruitless endeavor. It’s not just that she’s attractive; it’s that she’s intriguing, spirited, and oh so fucking hot.
To make matters worse, she’s wearing a tank top, and her nipples are jutting through the thin fabric. It’s impossible not to stare at them, and don’t get me started on her shorts. With the way she’s squatting, they come up so high that a sliver of her round ass can be seen at certain angles.
Fuck me, I should have told the boys to allow her to get dressed before taking her to me.
“Would you care for a drink?” I offer.
“A drink? I want to go home! If you think you can just kidnap women—”
“It was an accident.”
“We’ll let the cops decide that.”
A chuckle escapes my throat. “Do you really think they’re going to believe you? You’ll march out the door, call the authorities, I’ll feign ignorance…but…well…I might have to hand over all the evidence I’ve gathered concerning your recent online activities. With your history, that could land you some serious time.”
Her hand flies to her mouth. “How fucking dare you—”
“I want to offer you a job,” I cut in.
“—think that you can just—”
“It pays one-million-dollars.”
She plops back down on her fabulous rear, looking at me intensely. “I’m listening.”
“I need you to help me find someone. I know you can hack, which makes you perfect for the job.”
Her eyes flutter open and shut at least a dozen times before she finally says, “Like, what does this person mean to you?”
“That will be disclosed upon your compliance.”
“Let me get this straight: you want to hire an out-of-practice hacker and offer them one-million-dollars? Oh, almost forgot—you had them kidnapped from their home—while still in their pajamas!”
My eyes inadvertently rove her lush body. “Not complaining.”
Her eyes widen at my out of place comment. “Just who the-who the hell are you?”
