Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
He nudges me playfully. I don't want him to break the contact. I want him to slide his arm around me and pull me close. "Don't judge me for being a bigshot."
"Who are you?"
"Just a Good Samaritan. Come on, Sera. We can't waste any time."
We step into his enormous suite with views of the Strip and the yellow landscape of Nevada beyond. He places the laptop down, rushes into his bedroom, and returns with a leather satchel of computer tools. He puts on magnifying glasses and immediately focuses as he takes the laptop apart, handling the small tools in his giant hands, his skill making him somehow even more attractive.
He's flirty, hot, handsome, tall, mature, and techy... Come on, fate, talk about tempting me.
"There's going to be a risk of losing the files if I try to recover them early," he says.
I sit opposite him, sliding my hands up and down my legs. I'm wearing tight-fitting black pants. His wolfish blues shoot to my hands, a flash of lust crossing his eyes, his nostrils flaring like any second he's going to forget the laptop and leap on me.
"It's my work laptop, but I have to take the risk. I need to know if I have to rework the end of my speech and the code for my boss. God, my boss is going to be furious."
"Not if you bring him a new laptop, a better one."
I tilt my head at him. "How would that work?"
"Easily, Sparkplug. You tell me your hotel and room number, and I'll have one sent right up."
"You don't have to do—"
"It's not up for debate. Either I save this laptop or I get you a new one. Now, let me focus."
"You're very bossy," I quip.
"That comes naturally to a boss."
"I get the sense I should know who you are."
Another tempting smirk. "Perhaps it's a welcome change to have anonymity..."
"What's your surname?"
"Please, Sera, let me be a man of mystery a little while longer."
He gets back to work, concentrating, his huge hands handling the tiny tools with surprising dexterity. Soon, he arranges all the pieces on the table.
"We're going to have to use a hairdryer on the lowest setting for these components," he says, shaking his head. "It's not normally recommended, but if you need quick results..."
"I do."
"Then let's get to it."
As he works, he talks over the sound of the dryer. "You mentioned a speech. What's it for?"
"An empathetic approach on artificial intelligence," I tell him. "It's a personal project. I've been working on it for some time, and I managed to secure a small conference room to discuss the ideas."
"When is it?" he asks.
Is this casual curiosity, or does he plan to attend?
"Tomorrow, seven PM."
He nods.
Soon, it's time for him to reassemble the computer. I make us some coffee, placing it on a different table so I don't tempt fate.
"Moment of truth," he says, switching on the laptop. "There's some screen tearing. That doesn't look good. I'll recover what I can." He plugs an external hard drive into the laptop.
I bite my lip, standing behind him, my hands flexing as I take in the woodsy scent of him. I resist the silly urge to put my hand on his shoulder. But is it silly? We're strangers, yet I feel a certain connection to him.
The screen shows a file transfer for a few moments—then it abruptly cuts out.
"Shit," Luke mutters. "Sorry, Sera. Shall we look at what we saved?" He grabs his own laptop from the other side of the table, then plugs in the hard drive. "Looks like a Word file... Excerpts."
"Wait—"
He double clicks it, staring. What possessed me to save these quotes on this laptop? Oh, that's right, I never dreamed that a handsome silver fox would be poring over them.
The quote is from a steamy novel I recently read.
In her regular life, she was confident and self-assured. She was a kick-ass bitch. But in the bedroom, she wanted him to take control. She wanted him to own her. She wanted him to bend her over and take her wildly, recklessly—
I grab the hard drive and yank it from the computer.
"I-I need to go," I stutter. "I have to get to work."
"Wait," he says, as I rush for the hallway.
I stop, but I don't turn. My cheeks burning with mortification.
"Your hotel—your room number. I meant what I said about the laptop."
"I'm at the Westgate," I say. "Room one hundred and fifty-four." I flee as soon as the words leave my mouth.
Chapter Two
Luke
The game is all about obsession. Obsession is how a man goes from nothing to billions. Obsession, hyper focus, the ability to hone in on a problem and attack it with singular and borderline insane determination...
That's what got me to where I am. Now, though, it's not my tech empire that has me obsessed. Sera, my Sparkplug, the woman who instantly captivated me in that café, looking like she was made for me with her beauty, laser focus, and charming personality. Brown hair in a messy bun, a pencil tucked behind her ear, biting her lip as she leaned close to her laptop. When she stood to grab another coffee, her tight black pants hugging her curves had my mouth going dry. When she cussed out that man, I had to laugh at her spunk, at her spark... hence the nickname, which fits perfectly. After she left my room, I spent the night pondering that quote she'd saved, my body throbbing with desire.