Heart-Shaped Hack(35)

When Ian said he missed nothing, he really meant it.

“I see that you’ve identified—and are now exploiting—my weakness so that I’ll let you fix it, regardless of what it might cost me in integrity.”

“I’m a hacker, Katie. It’s what I do.”

If Kate let Ian help her, she could feed her clients and give their children some semblance of a real Christmas. Sure, there were more important things than presents, but to a homeless child or one whose family lived far below the poverty line, a hot meal and a toy could make all the difference. “I’m resisting this with every part of my being.”

“Given your education and professional background, I’d be more worried if you didn’t have a problem with it. Just think about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

When Ian took out his credit card to pay, Kate craned her neck in an attempt to read the name on it. Ian handed the card to her.

“Privasa?” she said.

“It’s the name of my company,” Ian said. “Everything I own is registered to it.”

“Very fitting for a man who likes his privacy.” She handed the card back to him. “But you’re going to tell me your last name now, right? After all those things we did?” Kate had always been a good judge of character, and she didn’t get the sense Ian was trying to pull anything over on her. At thirty-two, he’d undoubtedly had more than a few serious relationships, and she was fairly certain that at some point he revealed his last name to the women he dated because no woman in her right mind would be okay with a man withholding that kind of information indefinitely.

“No. I’ve already told you more than I ever thought I would. See? It’s your beauty at work again. And your legs.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And Jesus, your mouth. You have so many weapons in your arsenal now.”

As they walked home hand in hand, Ian said, “I feel like taking a nap. And by nap I mean move in and out of your naked body at whatever speed you prefer.”

“And they say men don’t know how to communicate.”

“Well, that’s where they’re wrong. I was crystal clear.”

“You’re going to kill me, Ian. And I mean that in the most wonderfully satisfying way.”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ian arrived at Kate’s apartment around six. True to his word, he’d been spending a lot of time not only in her bed but with her in general. They’d meet at Kate’s place after work, walk to a nearby restaurant for dinner, and then Ian would stay over. But sometimes they’d order in because rolling around on Kate’s bed as soon as Ian walked in the door sounded a lot more enticing to both of them than venturing out into the cold for something to eat. Ian had followed through on his Thanksgiving Day promise of shopping at Victoria’s Secret while drinking his after-dinner bourbon, and Kate was now the owner of several new push-up bras and matching panties. She’d modeled them for him, and that was one of the nights they definitely hadn’t made it out of her apartment for dinner.

“Hey, sweetness,” Ian said, tossing his keys onto the counter. He was wearing his glasses. “How was your day?”

Kate’s day had sucked. There were so many people utilizing the food pantry that she was barely keeping up with the regular needs of her clients. She had no idea how she was going to pull off the Christmas Eve dinner, not to mention the unwrapped toys. Christmas was a little over two weeks away, and she’d only collected about a third of what she’d hoped to have by then.

“It was long. Yours must have been too. You’re wearing your glasses.”

“My eyes were burning.”

He sat down on the couch, and after he took off his glasses and set them on the coffee table, he pulled her onto his lap and gave her the kind of kiss that made her want to order in.

“Ah, the number six,” Kate said, sighing. “I love that one.”

He looked at her curiously. “What are you talking about?”

“I assigned identification numbers to your kisses.”

“Oh really,” he said, laughing.

“That was the number six. It’s a little different from the number five because not only do you give me a deep openmouthed kiss with tongue, you also hold me on your lap while cradling my face in your hands. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Tell me the rest.”

“The number one is the first kiss you gave me at the end of our first date. And the number two is the second kiss, and so on. Then there’s the six. The number six knocks my socks off.”

“Which one knocks your clothes off?”

“Pretty much all of them.”

“Are there any more?”

“There’s a seven.”

“And?”

She smiled as if she were picturing it in her mind.

“Oh, Katie.” His voice sounded like a purr. “It must be really good.”

“The number seven is when you kiss me when you’re inside me. It feels incredible.”

“Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?” he asked, nibbling her ear.

“A number seven with a side of let’s order in?”

“You’re so quick,” he said, easing her off his lap and pulling her toward the bedroom. “I really like that about you.”