“No, I’m going out with Cal Sokolov. I think I can talk him into some sort of arrangement between the families that will benefit both companies.” My father has insisted, and I did promise to try.
“Does Thorn know?” she asks.
I lift my chin. “No. He’s not in charge of my life.” My phone buzzes and I lift it to my ear. “Hello.”
“Hi.” Just the sound of Thorn’s voice sends shards of recognition through my entire body. While it was slumbering before, now it’s wide-awake.
“What do you want?” I ask, sounding like a churlish teenager.
“I want to know if you’ve been a good girl. Have you touched yourself?” His voice is the rasping of sandpaper across old wood.
My clit tingles. “None of your business.”
“We both know that isn’t true.”
Tension grips my nipples and they sharpen. “I’m busy, Thorn.”
“Watch it, baby. I owe you three more withholds, and you want some space between them.”
I can’t help but rub my thighs together. The man is killing me. Plus, I have to go home and get ready for my date with Cal—something I’m not going to share with Thorn. “Fine. Bless your heart. It’s so nice to hear from you, Mr. Beathach. What can I possibly do to make your life easier?”
His chuckle nearly sends me into an orgasm. “You’re attending that stupid charity tech ball with me. Get a dress, and I’ll pay for it.”
I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I blush. “That is not how you ask a woman on a date.”
“I’m not asking.”
“You’re actually going to a public event,” I say slowly.
His sigh is loud enough that I almost feel the air against my skin. “According to my brother, it’s necessary at this point.”
“You need user interactions to gain more energy,” I say smugly.
“Apparently.” He doesn’t sound amused.
The idea of seeing him at a masquerade ball is way too enticing. “Since you didn’t ask, I don’t have to give an answer. However, I am attending, so I might see you there.”
“That will be fine. But remember whose date you are.” He clicks off.
“Huh.” I look at the phone.
Ella chuckles. “You were saying that Thorn is not in charge of your life.”
“He’s not.” I shove the phone in my handbag. Of course, he’s right. My orgasms, for the moment, seem to be controlled by him.
Jackass.
THIRTY-TWO
Alana
Unease stirs through me, leading to that prickling sensation of impending conflict. Even though Cal is in front of me, dishing up two plates from paper takeout cartons for an incredibly late dinner, it’s Thorn at the root of my disquiet. He won’t take kindly to knowing I’m here with one of the Sokolov brothers. Yet who is he to judge?
Not that it matters. Everything I know about Thorn tells me that he would never respect a boundary that he himself hasn’t set.
There are plenty of security personnel outside of Cal’s high-tech, one-level home on the outskirts of Silicon Valley, but it would’ve been rude to insist that anybody come inside.
I promised my father I would try to help Aquarius Social, and I am doing just that.
Cal appears to be on his best behavior as well. For our casual date, he’s wearing dark jeans and a green cable-knit sweater, making him look like a handsome Ryan Gosling at home in his own kitchen. Unsurprisingly, amethysts adorn his expensive looking wristwatch.
I’m wearing a simple aquamarine-colored top and skirt set with rose quartz earrings and a diamond pendant. I purposely left my phone in the car.
“This is nice,” Cal says as he pulls out his chair and sits. “I ordered from the Sharp Palate—I hope you like beef.” He frowns, as if realizing he should have checked whether I’m a vegetarian or vegan.
“I do,” I say, looking at the Wagyu beef burger.
“Oh, good.” He smiles. “I ordered them both with melted aged cheddar, truffle aioli, caramelized onions, and arugula. The brioche bun is supposed to be the best.” He points to the rosemary garlic fries. “And these are legendary.”
“Wonderful,” I say, taking a knife and cutting my burger in half, feeling off-balance. The nice act from him puts my teeth on edge.
He takes a big bite of his and chews before setting it down. “I have tiramisu for dessert.” Reaching over, he pours a thick red cabernet into our glasses.
I take a look at the bottle. It’s a Screaming Eagle Cab. “It’s one of my favorites.” I lift my glass and let the wine’s scent fill my head, and then I sip. This vintage truly is delicious. “The wine’s excellent.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Cal stares at my breasts and then jerks his gaze up to my face again. “I don’t know about you, but my family has been on me about this whole merger thing, and now Hendrix seems interested in you, too, so the sooner we reach an agreement, the better. You do not want to end up with that guy.”
I sample the fries. They explode on my tongue, and I make a mental note to remember this restaurant; I haven’t tried it before. “I’ve been thinking,” I say. “What if we reach a contractual agreement to work together to enhance both of our servers? I know I could speed up your user interface time, and we’d love to add some sort of holographic element to our emotional-intelligence platform.”
