Page 7 of Go Fetch!

Hell, how mad could she be?

  Chapter Eight

  So far, it had been the longest day in his recent memory. From when Miki “accidentally” spit Cheerios at him during breakfast. To when she “accidentally” told the airport cops he was carrying heroin. To when she “accidentally” told the check-in staff at the hotel she was only thirteen and that Conall was her pimp. Oh, and that she was planning to bring a few “johns” into their four-star hotel. Would that be okay?

  And no matter how much he wanted to wring her neck, he wouldn’t. Even though she made him friggin’ nuts, he’d be damned if he let her see she was getting to him.

  Although she was getting to him. And not in the way she wanted to either. If anything, he wanted her more. He liked that she didn’t take shit from anybody, especially him. He liked that she was mean as a snake when provoked. He liked how she smelled when pissed off.

  And she was royally pissed off.

  He wondered how much longer she could be mad at him. A day? A year? A lifetime? He wouldn’t put it past her. He sensed the girl could hold a grudge.

  Conall pulled a pillow over his head and tried to think about anything or anyone other than Miki Kendrick.

  That lasted all of five minutes. Then he started obsessing over how hot she was.

  Just a dog with a bone.

  Well, she had to eat sometime. And except for the Cheerios, half of which ended up on the first T-shirt he wore that morning, she hadn’t eaten a thing. She’d even passed on the airplane peanuts.

  He threw the pillow off and went to the door that connected the rooms. He took a deep breath and knocked.

  “What?”

  The fact she answered him at all was a darn good sign.

  Conall pushed the door open. He’d made it clear she better not lock it. If anything happened he needed to get to her. Of course, around that time the heroin incident came up. Thank Loki he had connections in the police department; otherwise, he would have endured a very unpleasant experience with a man wearing a surgical glove.

  As always, she was on her laptop again. Her wounded arm, unbandaged and already healing, did not prevent her from hours and hours of typing. She’d been on that thing since they’d arrived at the airport back home. He was surprised the fucking thing hadn’t fused with her body.

  “Hungry?”

  “No.”

  He took in a breath to control his desire to wring her neck and gazed around the room. She hadn’t really unpacked. She just had her suitcase open, clothes already lying around. A messy girl, his Miki. He did notice the garment bag she’d hung up. He assumed those were her clothes for her meeting. Underneath them were two pairs of pumps. Both black. One had heels that were about four inches high, the other five inches.

  He looked away. He had to look away. If he started imagining those great legs of hers wearing those shoes, he would do something really stupid.

  “You gotta eat, Mik…and don’t throw anything at me.” He could tell she was looking for something to chuck at him.

  “Fine. I’ll eat.”

  “Good. I’ll order something in. We’ll eat together.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “Must you argue every fuckin’ thing with me?”

  “Fine. Whatever. Let me know when it’s here.”

  She went back to her laptop and it was like he no longer existed on her planet.

  A rabid dog. Her own personal Cujo. Constantly lurking around. Constantly watching her. He was driving her nuts.

  Still so pissed she couldn’t see straight, she felt like he’d taken over her life. He was the big wolf and he was going to take care of the weak human female. She would have punched him in the stomach, but one look at that body and she knew she’d only hurt her hand.

  Of course, if she had her brass knuckles…

  Sara had thrown that “big ol’ bear” theory at her again before Miki left with him for the airport. “He only wants to protect you.”

  Were these people blind? Could they not see past those rugged good looks, innocent smile and rock-hard ass? Clearly not. Clearly, she was the only one who could see him as the predator he truly was. He was the wolf and she was the cottontail just trying to make it back to her burrow—unsoiled.

  Not easy when he smelled so good. Looked so good. God, did he look good. Miki didn’t understand this. She’d believed herself immune to any man’s charms.

  “Dead below the waist” was how her last boyfriend put it. At the time, the insult had been devastating. She didn’t cry about it, mostly because she didn’t cry about anything. But Sara and Angie knew something was up and they quickly dragged it out of her. She should have known their answering silence was not a good thing. When the guy woke up with no body hair and his penis glued to his stomach, Miki didn’t ask questions. She merely pointed the cops assigned to the case to the bar full of bikers she’d been serving that night and comfortably settled down to a life of computers and Mr. Happy for those rare occasions when she felt an overwhelming need.

  Then Conall kissed her that last night Sara’s Pack was in town. Suddenly, Mr. Happy was racing through an enormous amount of batteries, and when she slept, her fingers were getting quite the workout.

  It wasn’t fair really. Why couldn’t she have this reaction to a nice guy? Not a predator pretending to be a nice guy. What more could she be to him anyway, other than a challenge?

  Well, he’d started this. He thought he could treat her like one of those vapid whores he fucked who couldn’t think for themselves. But everybody knows or should know—you never mess with a woman from Texas.

  Two hours and a crap load of Italian food later, Conall was starting to feel a whole lot better. She didn’t make it easy, though. But he found a way in. He screwed up facts. It absolutely drove her nuts. So he did it often. First about politics. Then about stuff Sara had told him about the three friends growing up together. Before she knew it, Miki was talking to him and beginning to relax.

  Then she started asking him questions. She asked about his family. About Pack life. About Zach and Sara. And a lot of questions about being wolf. What did it feel like to change? What was different when he changed?

  She had to be the most curious female he’d ever met. Constantly thinking. Constantly analyzing. He wondered what it was like in her head since it seemed like there was non-stop activity.

  He also asked her questions about herself. He liked hearing her talk. Hearing her views on the world. And she had many. She also mentioned something about a photographic memory and being in one of those high IQ clubs until rude behavior got her tossed out. Not surprising. The woman was amazingly blunt. There were very few things she wouldn’t say.

  It was late. Almost midnight. They’d finished eating and were now sitting at the small table in his room. Miki’d leaned back and put her feet up on his chair, right by his thigh. She wore her Doc Martens and white sweat socks with baggie black shorts and an army green T-shirt. He loved it when she wore shorts. He loved her legs. While they talked, he began to run his hands along her calves and he took it as a good sign she didn’t slug him.

  “So what you’re telling me is you’re kind of a hacker?”

  “No. No. I was kind of a hacker. But that is long behind me. I’m a nice, respectable girl now. As soon as I get my doctorate, my life is going to start really rolling.”

  “So what did you do?”

  She shrugged. “Moved some stuff around. Infiltrated a few…” she sighed, “…government organizations.”

  Conall raised his eyebrows. He couldn’t help himself.

  “But,” she quickly added, “I never stole anything.”

  “Is that why you didn’t do any hard time?”

  “Well, that and my age. Thankfully, they expunged my record when I turned eighteen. But let me tell you, no computer for three years. To somebody like me that is hard time.

  “But you know,” she continued. “It was always about the hack. It was about proving we could do it. It was always about that. Not m
oney or stealing anything from anybody.” She shook her head. “But those days are over for me. No more hacking. In fact, no activity that can get me arrested.”

  “That’s always a good plan.”

  She smiled then and he immediately got hard. It amazed him really. Almost like she’d stroked him. She had both her legs on one of side of him, so he took one and pulled it over so that her legs boxed him in.

  “Having fun with my legs there, Viking?”

  “Yup.”

  He stroked her legs and stared at her. She looked away once and then, after a deep breath, looked back at him. He ran his fingers lightly along her calves and across her knees. He could hear her breathing change. Hear her heart beating faster.

  “Conall?”

  “Miki?”

  “Don’t get any ideas. As it is, I’m still pissed.”

  “Anger can be quite the aphrodisiac.”

  She laughed. “Men are so pathetic. They will come up with any bullshit to get laid.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” He massaged the muscles in her calves.

  “What if I do?”

  Conall stopped and pulled his hands away. “Then I stop.”

  Miki rubbed her neck and stared up at the ceiling. She tried to look unaffected, but he wasn’t buying it for a second. Especially when she said, “I didn’t say you had to stop. I just asked what would happen if I did ask you to.”

  “So do you want me to start again?”

  Miki shrugged in response.

  “That’s not an answer, Mik.”

  She locked eyes with him. “Don’t try and bulldoze me, Viking.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  He leaned forward in his chair and ran his hand on the inside of her thigh. “How about you tell me if you want me to stop.”

  “I bet you’re praying I temporarily lose my powers of speech.”

  “Only for a few hours.”

  She smiled again and shook her head. When she smiled her whole face lit up and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “God, Miki. You’re so beautiful.”

  That seemed to surprise her. “Okay.”

  He stroked his hand up her thigh and inside her baggie shorts; he felt gooseflesh break out over her soft skin. “Don’t you believe me?” His hand played along the very edge of her panties. Lace. Yum.

  “It’s not that I don’t believe you. But it’s all perception, isn’t it? One man’s beauty is another man’s coyote ugly. I mean, it’s all about society’s views and—”

  “Miki?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop thinking.”

  “That’s a cute idea and all, but I don’t think I’m actually capable of…of…oh God.” Her hands gripped the arms of her chair as his fingers slid past her panties and his middle finger slid inside of her.

  “You were saying?”

  Miki tried to stay in control. Tried to keep her wits about her. But with his finger slowly stroking in and out and his eyes never leaving her face, that started to become a freakin’ impossibility. “What?” He’d asked her something and for the life of her she couldn’t remember what. Her with the fuckin’ photographic memory.

  “You were just giving me your theory on beauty and society. Thought you could finish that thesis for me.”

  “Um…yeah. Sure.” Okay, Kendrick. Focus. Focus. You can do this. He’s just testing you. Oh, my God in heaven, that feels so freakin’ good! “You see, it has a lot to do with…um…”

  “A lot to do with…what?”

  “Well, society and…uh…people…” She closed her eyes. “They are raised to…um…see…” She gripped the arms of the chair harder and wondered if she might just rip the fucking things off.

  “See what?” He slid another finger inside of her and let his thumb brush her clit.

  She almost came out of her chair with that. Instead she let her head fall back. Her breath coming out in short, hard gasps. “Uh…”

  “Miki?”

  Okay. He won. She couldn’t think of one goddamn thing at the moment. Nothing but him and that big talented hand of his. Unable to stop herself, she moaned out, “Oh God, Conall.”

  She got the feeling that was what he’d been waiting for. Conall slid off his chair and kneeled in front of her. Leaning forward, he brought his mouth to her breast and sucked on it through her T-shirt. She gasped and wrapped one of her hands in his thick hair, pushing him forward so he could get a better grip on her nipple. And she had been right. His hair did feel like silk against her skin.

  Shit. This had so not been a part of her plan. At all! But then he’d started touching her and she couldn’t believe how much she loved it. Nothing had ever felt that good before. Now with Mr. Happy more than twenty-three-hundred miles away, she was about to come without him. She never had before, but Conall was bringing her there. Her own live Mr. Happy.

  Closing her eyes as the sensations began to build inside her, Miki brought her other hand up and gripped the back of Conall’s neck. She pulled him tight against her, his fingers continuing to move inside her. He brought his mouth to her other breast and sucked on the nipple until that was rock hard. Then he moved his tongue across her collarbone and up one side of her neck. She felt heat spreading throughout her body as Conall whispered in her ear, “You smell so good, Miki. Feel so good. I could stay inside you forever.”

  That was the last bit she needed. Her orgasm burst inside her and she clung to Conall, his thumb rubbed against her clit, drawing out her release until she screamed against his neck.

  When Miki’s vision cleared, she realized she still held onto him. “Conall?”

  “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” His hand slipped out of her and he picked her up, walking over to the bed. He dropped them both to the mattress, rolling on top of her, kissing her neck, her jaw.

  “Conall?”

  He pulled away and looked down at her. “You really are beautiful, Miki.”

  “Thanks, Conall.”

  He stared at her a moment longer. Smiled. Then passed out.

  Suddenly the biggest guy she’d ever met had her pinned to the mattress. A really ugly way to die. She pushed the thought away and dragged herself out from under him. Luckily, he hadn’t fallen completely on top of her. It seemed like at the last minute he moved over enough to crash more to her side.

  Miki dropped to the floor. Well, that had been interesting. She took a deep breath to calm her body down. She was still rolling from that orgasm, but she wasn’t going to let that distract her. And she wasn’t going to feel guilty either. He’d started this game, was it her fault he’d underestimated her?

  She stood up and looked at her watch. Her calculations had only been three minutes off. Not bad. She had to guess the time he’d finally drop based on what Sara had told her about their metabolisms. Thank goodness for Pharmacology 101. Best three credits she ever earned.

  She went back to her room and changed into clothes that didn’t have Conall’s smell all over them. Then returned to her oversized shapeshifter in his bedroom. She looked down at him and realized that asleep he did look like the innocent teddy bear everybody kept talking about.

  She checked his pulse and his pupils. He was out cold, but breathing normally. She made sure his body lay in a comfortable position, brushed his blond hair out of his face, grabbed her backpack and snuck out the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Miki sat with the closest friends she had outside of Sara and Angelina, and realized that after all these years they were still a bad influence.

  “You still have Feds coming to your door and yet we sit here hacking into a man’s computer?” she growled.

  Craig grinned, but never looked away from the laptop he diligently worked on. “Yeah. They’re like friends now. I make them coffee.”

  Miki shook her head. “You’re nuts.”

  “Dude, they have nothing on us. They’re just fishing.”

  Miki put down her Shirley Temple. “But you guys are hacking into someone?
??s computer. So you’re giving them ammunition.” Miki ate pretzels out of a bowl then briefly obsessed over how many hands had actually been there before her. “Who are you going after anyway?”

  “Mitchell Leucrotta.”

  Miki frowned. “Who?”

  Her four friends stared at her. All scrunched together in the booth opposite her, they leaned on top of one another trying to see what Craig was doing on the laptop.

  Amy glanced at Craig. “Professor Mitchell Leucrotta.”

  Miki groaned. “Are you guys nuts? Have you lost what little bit of your minds you have left?” Hacking into another university was dumb. Hacking into your own was damn suicidal career-wise. And the thought of Craig being the butt buddy of someone in prison was simply not a pleasant thought.

  “I’m almost positive he’s holding up my grant money.” Craig, like her, still worked on his dissertation. Yet he had his own lab in the biotech school and would probably be a very rich man one day. If he didn’t have a weird fetish about feet, she would have dated Craig herself. But, as it was, they were better off as good but strange friends.

  “Whatever you find, you can’t use it against him. Not legally.” Miki shifted around in her seat and Craig stared at her.

  “You so want to see what we’re doing, don’t you?”

  Miki turned her head away. “No.”

  “Liar.” Amy Bitter, who loved her name, accused. Amy could take apart and rebuild absolutely anything no matter how complex.

  “You want to touch the keyboard. You lust for the keyboard.” That from Kenny Liu. A software genius who loved creating viruses.

  “You’re all idiots.”

  Ben Klein, whose hacking skills made hers look like child’s play, raised an eyebrow. “She desires the keyboard as much as she desires to help us with the password.”

  “I’m not listening.” Miki put her hands over her ears. “You can’t lead me down this road of evil and prison time.”

  “This is part of your ‘I’m a good girl now’ plan, isn’t it?” Amy asked sweetly.

  Miki took her hands away from her ears. “Yup. I’m a very good girl.”