Page 3 of Hacker Heart

Belle lays her head against my shoulder as I cradle her against my chest and make my way toward the exit. The crowd parts, allowing me through because I’m holding one of the infamous Hunter sisters. They’re practically royalty in this town. Everyone knows who they are, and how unwise it would be to piss them off.

The girls are fiercely protective of each other, so when I reach the door, I do a quick survey of the booths. I spot the others crammed into one at the back, and Kline has already made his way to them. I assume he’ll tell them I’ve got Belle if they didn’t see me take her.

By the time I get to my car, Belle has completely mellowed out. Her mouth is practically brushing against my throat. The little puffs of air caressing my skin send a shiver down my spine.

I clear my throat. “Gonna put you in the car now, Belles.”

She sighs and tightens her arms around my shoulders. There’s zero space between her enticing curves and my upper body. I take a deep breath, mentally shaking the lustful thoughts from my brain, and refocus on the task at hand.

With skill that can only come from growing up as the unofficial protector of a bunch of girls when they’re drinking, I open the passenger door one handed then deposit her inside. Once she’s safely secured, I round the hood and slide in behind the wheel. Belle rolls her head to look at me, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she reaches across the console and places her palm on my thigh.

I freeze. Belle is an exceedingly affectionate and horny drunk. Always has been. I’m glad she doesn’t overindulge too often because I don’t think I could handle it more than I already have to. Not when I know she’s only touching me because she’s plastered.

Taking a calming breath, I throw my car in gear and pull out of the lot. Thankfully, nothing’s farther than a ten-minute drive around here, and I pull into Belle’s driveway before her palm has ridden up too high. When I get out, I take a quick second to rearrange the goods, then go about getting her out of the car and into her house.

Once we’re inside, I kick the front door closed behind me, then slip out of my shoes. Belle’s weird about footwear. Striding down the short corridor off her living room, I take a left into her bedroom. It’s pristine, with not a thing out of place, as always.

It’s a warm night, I figure she’ll be fine to sleep atop the covers, so I don’t bother pulling them back before depositing her gently on the mattress.

With an outstretched hand, she beckons me closer. “Don’t go, Val.”

I give her fingers a quick, reassuring squeeze. “I’m right here.”

A small sigh slips from her parted lips. “Stay,” she hums.

My dick is all about that idea, but there’s no way in hell I’d ever take advantage of a situation like this. Keeping my mouth shut, I move down to her feet, slipping off her fire-engine red heels and taking them to her shoe closet.

She had major renovations done on the house when she bought it a few years ago. She had the attached bathroom downsized to expand the walk-in closet, and the spare room next to the master converted into a walk-in shoe shrine. That’s what I call it, anyway, because I’m sure most women don’t own this many pairs of shoes. And if they do, I don’t think they display them like this.

I turn in a circle, examining all the shelves for where this particular pair lives. I can’t for the life of me work it out, so I put them on the fancy ottoman thing she has in the middle of the room. She can sort it out tomorrow.

Reentering her room, my mouth goes dry, and my heart takes off at a gallop. I stare at the tight black pants and frilly pink top shewaswearing when I removed her shoes. They’re now on the floor at the foot of her bed. I firm my jaw and tell my dick to calm the hell down before things get even more uncomfortable in my jeans.

“Come to bed, Val,” Belle murmurs.

My name from her lips when she’s practically naked…it’s too much. I refuse to look. I can’t. Keeping my gaze averted, I stride for the door. “I’ll stay in the guest room, okay? Call out if you need anything,” I tell her as I go.

I’m across the hall and locking the door behind me in record time. Leaning against it, I close my eyes and reach for my throbbing dick, giving it a hard squeeze.

I am not, under any circumstances, going to jerk off. Nope, not going to happen.

I have superhuman self-control. Getting off to thoughts of Belle when she’s drunk in the other room is not cool. I’ve been in love with Belle Hunter since I was sixteen years old, I’ve flogged the log many a time with thoughts of her front and center. But never in her house—that’d be pervy and weird.

And I am not that guy.

Then my hips punch forward all on their own and my palm flattens over the hard ridge behind my zipper.

Down boy.

Now isnotthe time.

Gritting my teeth, I straighten away from the wall, tug my shirt and jeans off then flop face first on the mattress and pray she doesn’t try to pick the lock again…

ChapterTwo

Rolling to my side,I groan as sweat breaks out across my forehead and a wave of nausea rolls through me. My temples throb as I gingerly sit up, and I’m pretty sure someone drove an icepick through my brain while I was sleeping.

Or maybe it was that bottle of Jamison’s? Things are a little fuzzy.

---