Defended & Desired Read online

She supposed Logan and Trey shared a similar mind in that regard. They did everything in their power to keep safe the people who counted on them. Even though technically she didn’t count on Trey for anything more than a paycheck.

  When Logan shifted Sammy against his side, the boy started crying again. “I know it hurts, bud. This teething thing is no fun for any of us.”

  At the same time, Peanut scraped his paws against Devon’s knees. “Looks like we’re both in demand. Thanks for everything, Logan.” She hoped the look she sent him encompassed her gratitude, despite her stubborn pride wanting to handle everything by herself. “Will you call me if you find anything new?”

  “You bet.”

  Devon emptied the last of her coffee into the sink and set the mug in the dishwasher. She picked up Peanut, grabbed her overnight bag, and walked out into the warm summer morning.

  Since Logan’s team would return to her house shortly, and she wasn’t up for a rerun of last night, she decided to head to the office. There was no shortage of work since the servers went down, and there would be no one there to interrupt or distract her on a Saturday morning. She stopped on the way to grab Peanut a few packs of Caesar’s wet dog food and replenish her stash of nicotine gum, then pulled into the empty parking lot at Soren Security.

  When she entered, the building was mausoleum silent and unnerving at first. As she headed for her office, she reminded herself how much she looked forward to the solitude and privacy. Elusive luxuries of late. Especially after learning the most intimate details of her life had been caught on camera.

  Anger clawed through her. That bastard had done enough damage. She refused to give him free rent in her head. Instead, she’d focus on restoring the company’s lost data and retooling her network’s security.

  Peanut gobbled his breakfast, then curled up under her desk and went to sleep. She settled in and absorbed herself in the blissfully uncomplicated world of ones and zeroes that provided the digital foundation for the work she loved.

  The next time she glanced at the clock, it was eleven thirty. Her stomach growled. She yearned to inhale the puff of smoke from a cigarette. She reached for nicotine gum instead, rather proud of herself for not caving in to her former addiction, even with multiple layers of stress piling onto her life.

  A few minutes later, she heard a knock. Startled, she glanced up and found Zander in her doorway, standing there with his usual reluctant awkwardness.

  “Zander. What are you doing here on a Saturday?”

  “Same thing you are, I guess.” He tugged at the cuffs of his oversized shirtsleeves. “Catching up on work. We’ve had a crazy week.”

  “Amen to that.” She waved him inside. “Something on your mind?”

  “Yeah. I did some research on the guy who calls himself ‘Captain Jack.’”

  Devon sat straighter. “Please divulge.”

  “Did you know he was kicked out of DEFCON two years ago?”

  “No way. Seriously?” This was the most interesting news she’d had in two years. She leaned forward setting her elbows on her desk. “For what?”

  He scratched his ear. “It doesn’t say, exactly. He might’ve done something invasive, even by hacker standards.”

  “Obviously, to get kicked out of DEFCON—I mean, that’s the one place each year that programmers like us go to find acceptance.” She let out a snort. “He must’ve really pissed someone off to get booted.”

  “From what I’ve learned, he was determined to crack a code that was actually up for an award that year.”

  Devon went still . “Two years ago…I was given the Signet Award for the facial recognition software I created for Stone Security.”

  “Oh. Oh, wow. I mean, I knew that.” Zander raked a hand through his disheveled hair. “But I didn’t connect the two situations until now.”

  “Me either.” Devon felt familiar claws of repulsion scrape along her spine.

  “If you don’t mind me saying, Miss Leigh…” Zander blushed, then dragged a chair beside hers. “That award deserved to go to you. You overlaid facial recognition software over live streaming feed. The security system you created blew my mind. Everyone’s. You made something no one thought existed. The forums sang your praises.”

  Devon grew uncomfortable under his unabashed admiration. “It worked. That’s all I cared about, honestly.”

  Zander touched her shoulder. “There was nothing like it on the market. I—all of us—found our guru in security.”

  “Oh, please.” Devon rolled her eyes. Sure, she’d created a great network security system, and, yes, she’d submitted it for Signet consideration, but she hadn’t expected to receive the honor, much less gain national attention for it. “Anyone could’ve done what I did. It wasn’t that remarkable.”

  “Miss Leigh,” Zander said almost breathlessly, “I disagree. You proved that you’re a hardhitter and trendsetter in the field. You set the bar.”

  She hid a wince. “Yeah, and then Captain Jack decided to take that bar and crack it in two.”

  “He has nothing on you,” Zander assured. “He couldn’t dream of being in your league.”

  “I agree,” said a low, sexy voice from across the room. Devon looked up to see Trey, leaning against her doorframe with his arms folded.

  Something strange happened in her chest when Trey entered and strode toward her. A sensation that fluctuated between reflexive tightness and then blossoming awareness. She’d never felt this before. With any man.

  And he was already walking toward her. “Who invited you here?” she asked in a teasing voice.

  “No one. But considering I’m your boss, I hope I’m allowed into your sacred inner circle.”

  Maybe it was his smile, calm and reassuring. Or his presence, so strong and inviting. Or the look he gave her, possessive and sizzling. Whatever it was that encompassed the essence of Trey, she found herself desiring him with a powerful and undeniable attraction.

  Fierce longing swept through her, and she pulled in an unsteady breath. It was totally unfair that he affected her this way. So easily, without even trying. She swallowed. That couldn’t be a good sign for her well-fortified detachment when it came to starting a relationship, even a purely sexual relationship. But at the moment, her fast-beating heart didn’t care what her brain thought.

  Devon’s previous disturbing thoughts about Captain Jack dissipated. She smiled at Trey, as tingles of pleasure spilled down her back. But she disguised her elated response by throwing up her hands. “Why are so many people here on a Saturday? Honestly, can’t a girl get a minute of peace?”

  Trey sent her a potent look from beneath his eyebrows that had her heart skipping a beat. “Not when that girl hasn’t touched base with me in twelve hours.”

  “I’ve been busy,” she retorted, feeling no need to explain herself or her whereabouts to him. Although, it was, maybe, a little…nice to know he was checking in on her. That he cared about where she was and who she was with. Except, there was no need for Trey to throw Zander a get-the-hell-out-of-here look. “Zander and I were just discussing our job…and what to do with the wonderful big new budget we have to work within our department.”

  Zander gave her a double take. “What? They passed your budget?”

  “Hell, yeah, they did.” In camaraderie, she nudged Zander with her elbow. “You can’t let upper management run roughshod over you. No matter what, stick to your guns. Demand the best. The least they can do is tell you no.”

  Trey shrugged. “She’s right.” He uncrossed his arms and came behind her desk, where she and Zander had been staring at her screen discussing her nemesis. Trey planted a hand on her desk, his chest conveniently brushing her shoulder, as though he were staking his claim. “There’s a lot to be said for a little pressure. Some enticing. A smooth touch.”

  Devon coughed. Trey was doing one of two things: either being intimidating or being territorial. Regardless, neither one was appropriate.

  “What he means,” she explained, sending a
quick, sharp glance at Trey over her shoulder, “is it’s important to make your superiors recognize the value of their IT department.”

  “I think I get it.” Zander scooted his chair far away from her and then stood. “It’s a pleasure discussing work with you. I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”

  She sent him an encouraging nod. “Please do.”

  When Zander closed the door, the latch clicked. And in under a second Trey’s lips covered hers.

  He slid his arm around her waist and hoisted her out of her chair, flattening her against him. His hand scraped up her scalp and tangled in her hair, the pressure holding her captive to his ravenous mouth.

  Unsure where he would take this and not willing to break her personal code of no sex with her boss at the office, she crunched her hands in his shirt then let him go. Licking her lips, half-wishing she’d let him continue his oral exploration, she dropped into her chair and rolled in front of her keyboard. “I actually did come here to work.”

  Peanut perked up and pawed at her until she picked him up and set him on her lap. Her fingertips tapped at the keys until his hands came over her shoulders and began massaging. Her head fell back, her whole body melting under his touch.

  “You know, I have a great cure for stress,” he murmured against her ear.

  She glanced up at him. “Is that right?”

  “Is Peanut okay by himself?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never brought him into the office before.” She scratched behind Peanut’s ear. “Zander could watch him. He and Peanut have interacted a few times.”

  “When?” Trey’s demanded.

  She threw her shoulders back. “Not that it’s your business, but I’ve invited my team over to my house a few times for pizza and brainstorming sessions.”

  “Oh.” He seemed to find that acceptable. Then he grabbed the phone on her desk and pressed the intercom button. His voice rang out over every phone speaker in the building, requesting Zander’s presence in her office.

  She stared at him. “A little over the top, don’t you think?”

  Trey shrugged. “I don’t know his extension.”

  Zander arrived slightly out of breath. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine,” Trey stated. “We need you to watch Peanut for an hour. Think you can handle that?”

  “Um, sure. Yeah. Heading out for lunch?”

  “Something like that,” Trey replied, sounding purposely vague.

  When Zander approached her dog, Peanut curled his lip and snarled. Devon scoffed. “Peanut, shame on you. You remember Zander. He’s been at our house with the rest of the team. He fed you his pizza crusts.”

  Peanut’s lip-snarl quivered then relaxed.

  “See? You’re just fine.” She set her hand on Zander’s shoulder. “Thanks for the help. I haven’t taken time off in the middle of the day in ages.”

  “I get it.” Zander nodded. “Enjoy.”

  Ten minutes later, Trey led her through the doors of a swanky gym. She frowned. This was not at all what she’d hand in mind, when he told her he had a cure for her stress. She’d rather be lying on a janitor’s cart with her heels in the air while Trey had his way with her.

  Apparently, the man had other ideas.

  And she wasn’t sure what she’d agreed to, by coming here with him.

  He’d promised that her wardrobe was fine—sports bra, t-shirt, and leggings were acceptable attire for a yoga class. But one look at the other women who entered along with them and Devon felt completely overdressed, in the frumpiest way possible.

  Thanks a lot, Trey.

  In fact, as the lights dimmed and the women rolled out their mats, she noticed a distinct triangle surrounding her. The yoga teacher at the room’s head, then Trey and an annoyingly pretty woman beside him made up the second tier, and everyone else made rows behind them. Devon set up her mat at the very back of the room. No need to make an ass of herself in front of an audience.

  Moments later, flute music started playing, and she attempted a “downward dog” on the mat Trey had let her borrow. Her ankles made a funny sound. Not natural. She was sure of that.

  “Up on tiptoes, everyone,” the uber-perky blonde instructor droned. “Then one heel to the mat, one heel flexed. That’s good. Toes spread.”

  Devon wasn’t sure what spread toes meant, but she was really glad she’d painted her toenails the other night. If she had to stare at her feet and see chipped polish, she might’ve walked out. A small reason to leave compared to this woman’s instructor’s insistence she make these bizarre poses.

  Sure, she knew the gist of yoga. She’d even considered taking a Pilates class. Now? Hell, no. This was crazy, subjecting her body to the gymnastics this instructor described as they moved through the “Sun Salutation” and on to other contortionist positions.

  This was supposed to be relaxing?

  She’d rather go have a cigarette. Or even better, have sex with Trey.

  Panting, she lifted her head from the downward dog position. She stole a glance at Trey who formed a triangle over his mat at the epicenter of the room. He looked like he was zoned out in a supernatural trance. But he was the hottest guy she’d ever laid eyes on.

  The instructor continued naming poses. But the idea of bending her left leg over her elbow seemed trivial and unnatural to Devon. She’d rather enjoy the view.

  Collapsing, she sat cross-legged on her borrowed mat, glad she’d chosen the back row. Was awakening kundalini energy a side effect of yoga? Because sexual awareness sizzled throughout her entire being.

  She licked her lips, watching Trey’s body move. He wore a sleeveless Under Armour tank, and the chiseled muscles in his arms were on full display. The fabric molded to every ripple his abs created, contracting as he shifted from pose to pose. She wanted to run her tongue along the center groove that traveled from the middle of his chest, down his six-pack, and below the waist of his workout pants.

  The instructor’s jargon about flowing through poses with a tight core activated Devon’s sweat glands. She felt very grounded in the moment, as though seeing a bronze statue of physical male perfection come to life.

  As instructed, she focused on her breathing, inhaling slowly. Exhaling slowly. Envisioning Trey in the upward dog position between her thighs. Hot. She wished they were alone, so he could give her a private performance. She shivered, recalling how he’d held her firmly against his face while his mouth brought her to orgasm on the hood of his car. She couldn’t stop picturing him in her bed, making a memorable dent in the wall with her headboard.

  The scent of perspiration and incense heightened her arousal. Her heart rate accelerated. She wanted all those big hard muscles flexing around her, above her, inside her.

  At the tantalizing image, she inhaled sharply. The woman beside her looked at her askance.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. She couldn’t control the desire flooding her veins. She’d never been so attracted to a man.

  Apparently, she wasn’t alone.

  As she glanced at the five rows of females in front of her, Devon realized every woman in the room was drooling over Trey. A flash of jealousy sent an uncomfortable flush crawling over her skin. Any glimpse of relaxation fled, replaced by restlessness and the urge to announce that the gorgeous guy in the front of the room was hers. So back off, ladies.

  Maybe if he satiated her between the sheets, she’d get him out of her system. Everything would go back to normal. But she had the sobering suspicion this man would alter her expectations of normal...and once she had him, she’d want more of him. She hadn’t expected herself to fall all over a man after one yoga session. But damn, she couldn’t blame the women in his class for drooling over him.

  It was probably best that she’d leave Denver soon. She hated the thought of seeing Trey with another woman, possibly one in this room, once their fling ended and he moved on to fertile pastures.

  A part of her withered inside. She couldn’t give this devoted family man what he w
anted most—a family of his own.

  “Return to cobbler’s pose,” the instructor said. “Now, lie on your back, knees together, and feel the balanced energy renew your spirit.”

  The only thing Devon felt renewed was her decision to take the job in Phoenix. She promptly crossed yoga off her list of relaxing activities. She’d stick to wine and online gaming. And sweaty sex with Trey, as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

  “Namaste,” the instructor cooed, “and be well.”

  Everyone in the room stood and rolled up their yoga mats. She did the same, but it took a few tries because it kept going cockeyed.

  Several women approached Trey before Devon had the chance. They fawned all over him under the lame pretext of asking his opinion on various poses. Devon crossed her arms and glared at them.

  “Was this your first class?”

  Devon dragged her gaze from Trey to find the instructor staring at her expectantly. She shrugged. “I guess it’s pretty obvious. Sorry if I ruined anyone’s flow.”

  “I’m glad you joined us.” The petite blonde gave a warm smile. “Everyone is welcome, no matter what their level of experience. Yoga is a personal practice, so don’t worry about anyone else’s flow except your own.” She patted Devon’s arm. “It’s fortunate you came just in time. This class is always full, and sometimes we have to turn people away.”

  “I’m sure,” Devon replied dryly. And she guessed Trey had a lot to do with that exorbitant turnout. Hell, even she’d endure an hour of contortionism to ogle Trey if she didn’t already get to see him on a daily basis.

  “Well, I hope you’ll come back.”

  I’d rather eat glass. “Thanks.”

  A broad hand rested on her lower back and sent electric tingles up her spine. “Great session, Melody,” Trey said in his deep, resonant voice.

  “Nice to see you, Trey. As always.” The instructor turned her attention to another attendee.

  Swallowing the sour taste in her mouth, she said to Trey, “I take it this is a Saturday ritual for you.”

  He nodded. “So what did you think?”

  “I think next time we should try kick-boxing.”