Breaching His Defenses - Allyson Lindt (best short novels .TXT) 📗

offer, but she must have read him wrong, for as quickly as he’d brushed her off for a phone call. Guys like that had busy schedules to keep. They didn’t do random hookups.

Not that she ever had before. After she’d broken up with her jerk wad ex-boyfriend, she’d become that kind of adventurous when it came to any man who wasn’t him. She’d even considered the possibility a couple of times. But she’d never actually found a guy who inspired her to pursue the idea. Turned out, in her fantasy dreamland, Jared Tippins was the perfect guy to figure out how that kind of thing worked.

Outside the hotel, she grabbed the next cab in line. Speaking of firsts… “I’m looking for a club.”

The cabbie met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “A specific one, or you want me to just drop you off somewhere?” His accent was heavy, his R’s vanishing into the words surrounding them. He reminded her of her history teacher when they’d lived in New Jersey.

“Karaoke. The newer the equipment, the better.” She could have checked online before she walked out the door, but that wasn’t any fun. She’d never done something like singing in front of a room of strangers before, but it sounded fun.

“I know the perfect place.” He navigated the packed streets with ease while he chatted at her. “Just dropped another group off there. They’ve got the latest and greatest technology. They even let people text in to get their names on the karaoke jockey’s list.”

Her phone buzzed in her purse. “Speaking of texting.” She grabbed the device, her good mood wrinkling when she read the message from her boss, Hayden. How’d booth setup go?

Time to report to her keeper. It was one of the few things she’d didn’t like about her job. Hayden was an okay boss, but he wasn’t much on delegation. His constant need to know what all his people were up to reminded her too much of Payton. Which meant she knew how to handle him, but it still didn’t make it any more pleasant to deal with. On top of that, she didn’t think it was a good sign she could compare her current boss to an ex-boyfriend who’d almost torn her down completely.

Hayden always wanted to know what his people were up to when it was work related. She’d flown into Las Vegas early because she was involved with setting up their booth, so it technically meant her entire trip was work related.

She sent back a quick, Like clockwork.

Seconds later, another message buzzed in. You set for your demo tomorrow morning?

She wasn’t so irresponsible she forgot what she was supposed to be doing. It was probably a good thing irritation didn’t carry in text messages. She replied, I’ve got it under control.

Her recently acquired appreciation for the spontaneous meant she tried not to let much faze her. Getting hung up on the details and people’s opinions had almost destroyed her once. But there was no reason to snark herself out of a good job and decent paycheck if she didn’t have to.

When her phone stayed silent for longer than a few seconds, she decided she must be off the hook and tucked it away again.

Moments later, after paying the cabbie, she made her way inside a club that was all neon, chrome, and incredible sound. Music blared in the background, accompanied by decent karaoke vocals, with the clang of glasses on backup.

She loved it already. She had her choice of tables, so she picked one close to the stage, ordered a drink, and settled in to decide what to sing.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to the encounter in the hotel. It was a shame Jared had to cut things short. She was such a fan girl sometimes. Normal women swooned over actors and fictional characters. She’d had to go and be odd—again—and get all wobbly about some tech guy. Not that she thought it was a bad thing. Okay, so she was a complete dork, still lingering on one simple encounter in an elevator. They’d barely exchanged words. It wasn’t like he’d propositioned her.

A flat rendition of a country song she couldn’t name filled the bar. She definitely wasn’t singing something like that. She wanted loud, with a lot of guitar and hopefully some good orchestration.

Too bad mister tall-dark-and-smoldering wasn’t the kind of nickname that rolled off the tongue. Fantasy teased her thoughts—though she could think of a couple of things she’d like to try with Jared that involved tongues. Jared Tippins. What would it be like to spend a few hours with him? Not just the getting naked, but picking his brain after about where he got his ideas, if it was weird being one of the names in the industry, and if programmers really did do it with their fingers.

But even without him, she was going to enjoy her free night before she went back to playing professional. A wolf-whistle echoed through the room, adding to the hum of her excitement. Her gaze darted around, the sound of more whistles and clapping finally drawing her eye to a group just a few tables away.

Because she’d jumped ahead a grade when she was in high school—not that she’d ever attended any school longer than six months, thanks to her dad’s work—and had spent most of her time studying even through college, she’d never had any close friends or understood that kind of camaraderie. A ping of longing echoed in her chest. It looked like fun, though. Too bad friendship wasn’t one of those things she could just try, and then file away if it didn’t work out.

Two of them—a guy and a woman—were cheering a third man on as he walked toward the stage. Recognition tickled Mikki’s thoughts. No way. It’s him.

Jared. Yup, he was still hot in person. Nerds weren’t supposed to be good looking. Most of the Fortune 500 names were faces who blended into a crowd. But this guy…tasty.

 “Next up is J.” The KJ’s voice rang over the speakers. “Who, according to the schedule, needs to stop dragging his friends around when they just want to drink until they forget their woes.”

Jared fired a smirk at his friends. “You know you love it.”

Mikki dropped back into her seat. This would be worth watching just for the view. Jared’s brown hair was cut short on the sides and spiked on top, his shoulders did his T-shirt justice, and no man’s ass should look so good in a pair of jeans. And here she’d thought she’d have to relegate her swooning to the trade show.

She leaned back. Time to enjoy the sights while she decided what to sing. Maybe he’d inspire her.

The first strains of something familiar filled the bar, and the whistles and claps from the other table died down, replaced with a quiet snicker. She knew that song. “Private Parts,” Halestorm and James Michael. Gorgeous, haunting duet.

“You want me to sing her parts, too?” Jared stepped away from the microphone and toward the edge of the stage.

“You said we could pick,” the guy with him taunted.

Inspiration stuck, and she knew exactly what she was going to sing. And in the process, she could spend a little more time appreciating the view all up close and personal-like. Mikki was on her feet and walking toward the stage. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, and her fingertips twitched in anticipation—not at the idea of being on stage, but that she was going to do so next to him. “I’ll sing her parts.”

His blue eyes grew wide, but appreciation lingered behind his shock. His voice was low, meant only for her ears. “Are you following me?”

“Not yet.” She gave him what she hoped was a teasing smile, took the spot next to him by the mic, and slid into her part just as the female vocals kicked in.

His mouth twitched, and he picked up the next line without hesitation.

She sang her parts with only the occasional glance at the prompter. It was one of her favorite songs, and he carried the sad baritone with zero hesitation, sending chills through her.

As the music progressed, easing into the crossover and refrain, she lost herself in the lyrics and his voice. He was good. Maybe not professional quality, but neither was she, and at least he could keep up.

He stepped closer, never quite touching her as he traced a finger inches from her cheeks and sang about not blaming anyone, just trying to figure things out. Her nipples tightened at the intensity in his voice, and her skin hummed with anticipation each time he drew close but never quite made contact. It was easy to fall into the seductive pantomime. She let her hooded gaze rake over him while she slid into the chorus about getting naked but not undressing his heart.

The song ended, and as the last strains faded away, she found herself held captive by his gaze. Such clear blue eyes, she couldn’t look away. He stood close enough the faint spice of his aftershave tickled her senses, and his heat brushed her skin. Every impulse in her screamed to lean in and kiss him. Just a taste. He tilted his head closer, and her breath hitched. Maybe tonight was her chance to live out any fan girl’s fantasy—a random, no-strings tumble with her idol. She could imagine losing herself in him, at least for another hour or two.

A chorus of catcalls rocketed through the room, shattering her thoughts and the bubble around them. He stepped back, a smile drifting in to replace the intensity that had been on his face moments earlier, but not quite reaching his eyes. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

Her body still tingled, pleading for more. Taking things further wasn’t the plan, though. She forced her smile to stay in place, despite the voice in her head begging to find out what he could do besides sing, and put more space between them. “It was my pleasure.”

“I’m going to have to repay you somehow.”

She had a couple of ideas about what she’d like as remuneration. Even when he was pretending to be humble, he was sexy, in that sharp, too-serious-for-his-own-good kind of way. Images danced through her thoughts, teasing her with what it might have been like to end the song with a kiss. To feel those long fingers at the back of her neck, or gliding even lower. Heat and desire flooded her, and she tucked the notions aside before they could grow graphic and rampant.

And apparently he’d said something to her. She shook her distractions away. “I’m sorry, what?”

He rested a hand at the small of her back, and gestured toward the edge of the stage with his free arm. “I think they’re waiting for us to leave so they can cue up the next song.”

“Right, of course.” Embarrassment joined the warmth flowing through her. She was tempted to lean into him and enjoy his touch a little longer. They reached the main floor too soon, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he steered her away from her table, and toward the bar. He didn’t break the contact until she was seated.

“Before you vanish into the crowds again, can I buy you a drink?”

So, so tempting. Despite the things she was willing to play fast and loose with, she knew she was a lightweight when it came to drinking. And if she was going to enjoy this opportunity, she was going to stay in full control of her senses. “I have to work in the morning.”

“So you’re going to nibble on chips the rest of the night without anything at all? Coke, water, nothing?” His expression never shifted, the pleasant but infuriatingly neutral smile staying etched in place. He slid onto the stool next to her, and his arm brushed hers when he rested it on the bar top. Had his face just twitched? Or was she imagining that he’d just bitten the inside of his cheek?

Maybe she wasn’t the only one who thought there was an almost tangible cord between them. After all, he hadn’t made his excuses and left yet. “Diet Coke, wedge of lime.”

He grabbed the bartender’s attention and ordered two. She fumbled for something flirty to say. Normally it wasn’t a problem. She didn’t tend to care what people thought of her, so whatever came out of her mouth came out. This was different, though. She idolized this man. She sipped her drink while a