Close To The Edge

I pocketed my phone. “Like what?”

“Like they’re one level up from chattels.”

I retraced my steps back to her. “I don’t have a problem cracking the whip, if that’s what you mean. I find it works best if it’s established clearly who’s boss.” I didn’t add that Maggie often rolled her eyes when I used my dominant voice. Which was pretty much all the time.

“So that’s your thing? You like to lord it over people?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets as I stood over her. This time the disparity was even more acute, and her upturned face was even more exposed. Fuck, she was so small, such a delicious morsel wrapped in a bundle of sharp brains and fierce beauty. That feral urge to possess her stormed through me, firing up every cell in my body.

Still, I should probably have curbed the words that slid to the tip of my tongue. But hell, I was never one to back down from speaking my mind. I’d learned the hard way how high the cost of holding my tongue could be.

“Would you like me to lord it over you, sweetheart?”

Her eyes widened into alluring green pools. Her nostrils pinched delicately as she inhaled too quickly. “Excuse me?”

“I will, Lily Gracen, but only if you ask me very, very nicely.”

Lily

There were so many things wrong with his statement that I didn’t know where to start. I wasn’t even sure where shock ended and annoyance started. Which was surprising since for the past three years I’d lived in an environment dominated by the worst type of male ego—one with a half-decent brain and a bottomless bank account.

Silicon Valley wasn’t the place for shrinking violets, and while my start at SDM may not have been conventional, I soon learned to find my voice or be flattened by pompous assholes.

That voice was now trapped somewhere between my throat and my tongue as I stared up at the seriously gorgeous man planted before me, watching me with eyes that started saucy little fires in my body.

I cleared my throat. “You’re forgetting who hired whom, Mr. Steele. Technically, I’m your boss. If anyone will be lording anything, it’ll be me.”

For some reason that made his piercing blue eyes gleam. “I don’t have a problem with a woman calling the shots. Within reason, of course.”

Between his eyes and his deep, sexy, gravel-rough voice, I forgot, for a moment, the sinister threats hanging over my head, jeopardizing everything I’d worked hard for. I was so close to living my life on my terms. To being free of the devil’s bargain my stepfather had struck with my employer to keep me shackled.

But staring at Caleb Steele, the deep unease I’d been bottling down since my stalker’s first contact faded a little, enough for me to experience new, equally unsettling sensations.

The thinly disguised sexual interest in his eyes had lit a fire beneath my skin from the moment our eyes met. I knew the way I chose to dress, the individual statement I made with my hair and clothes, meant I attracted looks that my younger, teenage self would’ve shied away from. But that was before I was forced to grow a hard shell. Before it became clear that no matter what I did, all I would ever be was a monthly check to my stepfather for the meager attention grudgingly tossed my way through years of bitter, enforced parenting, and a means of harnessing my talent from Chance Donovan, the man I worked for.

But freedom was within my grasp.

Once I got rid of my stalker problem.

Somewhere in a place I refused to visit very often, the sting of rejection resided. But that pain had diminished significantly over time. In fact, I discovered the neat little trick that the more I worked the less I thought about my dismal past.

Except that work was now in jeopardy. The jagged circle of thought brought me back to my solution—Caleb Steele.

The man who stood before me was a tower of raw masculinity and unapologetic dominance.

His dark blue eyes were commanding to the point of hypnotic, and he dripped the kind of sexual assurance that very few men could carry off.

As for the impressive bulge I glimpsed as he strolled across the room a few minutes ago...?

I pressed my suddenly hot thighs together, struggled not to drop my gaze to the part of his anatomy that was unnervingly close to my face and cursed the blush creeping my neck.

You have a stalker, Lily Angela Gracen. The last thing you should be thinking about is how incredible it would be to give your first blowjob to this drop-dead gorgeous man who’s staring at you as if he wants to take a very big, very greedy, bite out of you.

I stepped back from the edge of insanity as he leaned down, bringing his impressive height and stunning physique closer.

“Lily... Can I call you Lily?” he asked in that insanely sexy voice.

Enough already. My control may be slipping from me in other areas of my life. I wasn’t going to let it slip here. “No. You can’t. You haven’t earned that right.”

He raised one sleek, dark eyebrow, and hell, even that small action was crazy-hot. And when he smiled, his eyes gleamed with a new, carnal light that threatened to set me on fire all over again. “I don’t usually go in for the brownie points system but if that’s what turns you on...” He shrugged.

I frowned. “You misunderstand. Deliberately, I suspect. We’re not discussing what turns me on. Or...having you lord...whatever over me.” Thanks, brain, for choosing today to deliver my speech in stupid ellipses! “That’s not going to happen, either, by the way, just so we’re clear. I’m all about having this problem handled, ASAP, so I can get on with my life. Plus, I’m friendly with people I trust, and I don’t trust you.” There. Direct and to the point.

“You don’t trust me...yet. That’s okay. I’m skeptical, too. For instance, I’m not totally convinced that a bodyguard or a private investigator can’t handle this job. So, Lily...how are you going to convince me to get off the fence?”

I hated the ground-shifting sensation that came with the idea that he could walk away. My research had indicated he was the man for the job. I didn’t have time to find another. “You want me to pay you double? Is that it?”

The snap of irritation in his eyes indicated I’d caused offense. My stomach knotted harder.

“I turn away three out of five clients. Money isn’t an issue for me. If you want me, do better.”

“Fine. I was told you’re the best of the best. I need the best.”

He didn’t answer for several drawn-out seconds. His hands returned to his pockets, and he rocked on his feet before he nodded. “Great. You’ve got me.”

Convinced the loaded words were just in my mind, I ignored the heat pooling in my pelvis and pressed on. “It’s almost two in the morning. Every second that passes is a second I’m being kept from doing my job. So can we proceed, Mr. Steele?”

“Does anyone else know you’re being stalked?”

“Not yet, but if the threats continue I’ll have to inform Chance Donovan. He’s my boss and CEO of SDM.”

Thoughts of Chance cooled my churning jets. As the moneyman behind my project, he was under pressure from his board of directors to deliver the code on time. Over the past month, that pressure had been redirected my way, with hints of the unpleasant consequences should I fail to meet my deadline.

“I’m hoping you’ll fix my problem before that becomes necessary.”

Caleb nodded, and I caught a different gleam in his eyes. Respect. Maybe a little admiration. For some absurd reason, pleasure fizzed through me.

“I was going to suggest a safe house but I’m guessing you’ll draw attention to your absence if you don’t show up at work?”

“Yes. Usually, I can come and go as I please, but I have a team working with me.”

His eyes narrowed. “A team?”

“The algorithm I’m building is huge. I have three teams of three working independently on different aspects of the code to minimize leaking of confidential information. They all report to me.”

“So they don’t know exactly what you’re working on?” he fired at me.

“No.” That had been Chance’s idea. One I disagreed with but had no choice but to accept.