Hate Love

by Katie Ford

  “How long until it’s done?” I asked.

  Brandon swallowed. “We’ve been working on it for the last two hours. I’ve called in all the tech leads. Whoever did this is a genius,” he grumbled. “Makes my job hard, but a bona fide fucking genius, Theo.”

  One brow rose. “Oh really? A genius,” I said sarcastically.

  But Brandon didn’t hear the tone and sighed like a fawning fan. “You should see what’s been done. It’s a work of beauty, Theo.”

  Yeah, whatever. I was about to tear this fucker to pieces and then throw him to the sharks.

  Because fuck you, shitface. How dare you hack into Pictogram? This shit’s my baby, and you don’t fuck with that.

  “Just get the site running normally,” I commanded. “Find the breach and fix it.”

  “Will do,” said Brandon. “On it, boss.”

  I hung up on him. I had my own work to do.

  Jumping onto my Mac, I worked on finding the original location of where the emails were being sent. The hacker had been smart to cloak his location but not smart enough. It took me half an hour, but I found where Anonimo was hiding.

  Bingo!

  To my surprise, our anonymous hacker was located in a dorm on my old campus, Berkeley. Was he fucking serious? Some geeky student was sending me threatening emails?

  Please.

  Because it was too easy now.

  I know Berkeley like the back of my hand.

  And there was nothing like a confrontation.

  You know these hacker losers, so bold online, but complete wimps in real life.

  And the devil in me spoke then.

  Bring a knife. Bring a rope. Don’t let them get away with it.

  Because this fucker needed to be taught a lesson. Who cares if I hacked his hack? He’d just be back to doing the same old shit in two seconds flat.

  An evil plan formed in my mind.

  It was wrong, sure.

  Criminal even.

  But again, I’m a billionaire, and we get away with everything, from securities fraud to kidnapping. Shit, that stuff is just the tip of the iceberg. I could tell you stories that would make your jaw drop with disbelief.

  But that’s for later.

  Because sliding a knife into a bag, I stood.

  Anonimo had just fucked up my life. And unfortunately, he was going to pay.

  Chapter 3

  Mia

  The rest of the night I spent hiding out in my room. I wasn’t ready to face the world yet. Jill, the true BFF she was, snuck food out from the dining hall for me.

  “I didn’t know what you wanted so I got you a variety of options.” Digging into her backpack, she handed me a Ziploc bag full of lasagna, another with grilled salmon and wild rice, another with hummus and pita chips, and another with of course, Lucky Charms.

  Sitting on my bed with my Ziploc buffet, I held my hand out. “Did you get me any silverware?”

  Jill eyes widened in disbelief. “Silverware? I just pulled off the greatest heist in Cal Dining History and you want silverware?” She exploded into laughter while pulling out a fork. “Of course I brought you silverware. I’m not an animal.”

  I took the fork from her with a laugh. “Thank you.” Opening the lasagna bag, the rich oregano sauce wafted up to me. Stuffing a forkful into my mouth, I raved, “Oh my god, thank you so much. It’s warm and really amazing.”

  “No problem.” Jill shrugged as she headed out of my room. But right when she got the door, my friend looked back at me and mumbled, “I’m sorry, Mia. This is all my fault.”

  I finished chewing a gigantic bite. “Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault. It’s Pictogram’s stupid fault.”

  The blonde leaned on the doorway and heaved a giant sigh. “Are you going to be okay? You’re not going to be a hermit forever are you?” She shook her head. “You know, one of these days, the dining hall is going to catch on that I’ve been stealing mountains of food. So you’ve got to come out sometime.”

  Swallowing, I nodded.

  “I know. I’ll be okay. Promise,” I said. After all, Jill was right. Dropping out of school and hiding out in an underground bunker wasn’t a viable option. Tomorrow would be a new day. I hoped that everyone would have moved on from my half naked Pictogram debut to something else.

  That something else being all the naked photos I’d just posted of Theo Wainwright on Pictogram.

  Finding those images wasn’t easy by any means, but it was worth it. Digging around in his personal cloud storage, I hit the jackpot. There were so many photos and videos of him with different girls in every position, left, right and upside down. Theo Wainwright had clearly missed his calling as a porn star.

  Plus, I’d gotten a good look at everything, and what shocked me the most was how gigantic his cock looked in the photos. I’d zoomed in on it in utter disbelief. Could that even be real? Or was he using a prosthetic?

  For a split second, I almost decided not to flood Pictogram with Theo’s naughty photos. Almost. But then I remembered the sickening hissing sound Roger made with his mouth when he threw the Marc Janow poster down on my desk. My privacy had been violated. Theo needed to know what that felt like.

  I went to bed that night resolved to put my big girl pants on and walk amongst other humans again the next day. If I didn’t, it would just show stupid brogrammers like Roger that one photo could scare me away, and that wasn’t the right outcome.

  Besides, things could have been much worse. At least the snap of me plastered all over the place was a decent one. Probably the best one I’d ever seen of myself, frankly, what with the sexy pout and devilish smile.

  Anyways, this was going to blow over soon. I was sure my Picto-famous status would be eclipsed by Theo Wainwright’s naughty snaps in no time, and I could go back to my life of anonymity and blending into the scenery. After all, he was a powerful CEO and I was nothing but a student. Why the social media world keep humming about me, when they could have him?

  But that was before the kidnapping. Because I went to bed, pulling a pillow over my head thinking that tomorrow would be another day. In the middle of the night, there was a sound. At first, I thought it was just a creak of the floorboards, but then it came again, a soft shuffle that could only mean one thing.

  Someone was in the room with me.

  Oh god, my blood ran ice cold, terror seizing my limbs. What should I do? Should I play possum and lie still under the covers, pretending that I was still asleep? He probably just wanted valuables, and I was an afterthought.

  Or maybe I should scream my head off and scare him away. Maybe the loud noise would rouse my neighbors and this guy would take off, bolting from my room with whatever valuables he’d already snitched.

  But it was too late because strong muscled arms snatched me from the bed. A broad chest pressed against my cheek even as my nostrils detected the compelling scent of a man, all crisp new leather with hints of woody spring moss. My arms and legs jerked, but shamefully, the struggle was futile given how big this guy was.

  In my ear, a rasp came. “I’m not going to hurt you. Stay still.”

  And my limbs did as I was told as he tied my hands in front of me and placed a blindfold over my eyes. What in the world? Why wasn’t I screaming my head off and calling for the police? An unknown attacker was in my bedroom in the dead of night, carrying me off to who knows where. And yet I lay trembling against his chest, like a doe unable to move, my heart beating furiously. Oh god, oh god. Then he put a gag in my mouth and I lost my opportunity to save myself.

  Breathe Mia, the voice in my head spoke. Just try to survive. Don’t let this guy know how scared you are.

  By now, I could tell we were outside from the cool breeze wafting over my skin and the sound of cars in the faraway distance. There was a chill in the air, making me shiver. I was only in thin loose pajama pants and a tank top. The man set me down gently into the backseat of a car.

  I must have been noticeably shivering because he asked, “Are you
cold?”

  I nodded my head wordlessly, almost too frightened to move. And yet my cheeks were warm, taking in this massive man in all black. His features were obscured by the blindfold, but I could just make out a straight, firm jaw-line as well as lips that were perfectly molded. What in the world? Why was I checking this guy out?

  But moments later, he laid a blanket over my shoulders and arranged the fabric so it draped over my lap. Frankly, this guy was probably the most considerate kidnapper in the history of the world. Then, I heard the car door swoosh closed, making my hair flutter. With my hands tied in front of me, I absently stroked the blanket rolling the furry tufts between my forefinger and thumb.

  As the car started to move, I wondered where my kidnapper was taking me. His simple kindness of lying the blanket on me tamped down my initial fears of being murdered or maimed. There was absolutely no good reason to believe him, but his words that he wouldn’t hurt me rang true to me somehow, striking to the core of my heart.

  Bringing the blanket up to my face, I inhaled, smelling the man’s musky scent again.

  Why was this happening?

  Who would want to kidnap me? And why?

  An uneasy feeling swept over me. Was this in connection with my Picto-famous status? Did I piss off one of the brogrammer dudes in the Computer Science program?

  Was Roger behind this prank? But that couldn’t be right either. The man that effortlessly lifted me out of my bed couldn’t have been stick thin Roger with his puny arms.

  I leaned my head back on the headrest, taking a deep breath. I was so terrified, but I couldn’t fight this. I didn’t know where I was going or what was going to happen. I couldn’t see anything and I couldn’t scream. I lay, slumped against the seat, my heart pounding for I don’t know how many hours until I heard the car engine turn off.

  A few moments later, we were no longer in the car. My legs dangled as the man carried me. The blanket was still on me shielding me from the chilly night, carefully wrapped around my curvy form.

  This kidnaper was a gentleman. I’ll give him that.

  From the way he held me, my face unintentionally brushed against his. His stubble prickled my lips softly and his breath smelled minty and fresh. Racing like a drum, my heart pounded. Who was this man, and why was I strangely attracted?

  Stop it, the voice in my head hissed. You can’t feel this way. This guy is a criminal for crying out loud.

  After all, what was wrong with me? This man had broken into my dorm room, snatched me out of bed, and taken me to an unknown location. But leave it to me to notice his spearmint fresh breath and well-chiseled physique.

  A rush of warmth ran through my frame, my breath coming fast. And yet, I couldn’t get it stop. Willing my traitorous body into submission did nothing. Instead, the limbs continued to tremble, but from excitement with only a tinge of fear.

  Oh god, why was this happening? There was a plausible reason for all of this. If I was going to be in any real harm, my captor wouldn’t have been worried about keeping me warm.

  Once inside wherever we were, I sensed he was taking me upstairs. I was a big girl, but he seemed to be carting me around with such ease. My mind wandered as I began to relax in his strong capable arms. Who was this man? A body builder, a firefighter, Superman even?

  When he set me down on a soft comfy couch, the man finally removed my blindfold. I blinked slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the light. When my vision was no longer blurred, I saw that I was in someone’s fancy home office.

  From the large ceiling to floor windows, the sky was still dark outside. I wondered what time it was. Wherever I was, it was swanky and sumptuously furnished. It was a relief to not be in an abandoned warehouse or some other terrifyingly sketchy locale.

  From behind me, my captor said, “I’m going to take the gag out. I just want to chat.” I strained to turn around to see his face, but it was impossible to get a good look. He pulled the gag out of my mouth, which was dry and cottony. I hacked a bit, coughing spastically while bending over.

  “Where am I?” came my hoarse gasp. “What’s going on? You can’t do this!”

  But the man ignored me, turning so that he was in shadow again. Who was this mysterious man, the plane of his cheek as sharp as a razor? I could glimpse sculpted cheekbones and a quirk to that mobile mouth.

  “You’re nowhere,” his deep voice sounded. “Take it easy.”

  “Take it easy?” I managed in a choked cry. “You just kidnapped me. How am I supposed to take it easy?”

  A black brow quirked in the shadows.

  “Well, you’re still alive,” he drawled. “That should be reassuring.”

  This guy had a lot of gall. He expected me to thank him for not committing murder? What a cocky bastard.

  I tried to get a better look at the man, but he was already moving around the couch to face me. As he took a seat in an armchair across the way, he removed his dark baseball cap.

  I gasped then, unable to believe my eyes.

  It was Theo Wainwright of Pictogram. The CEO himself. The guy whose naked pics I’d posted all over the site.

  A scream, from either shock or embarrassment, flew out of my mouth. On impulse, I leaped up as if stung by a bee.

  Theo quickly seized my form and pushed me back down on the couch. The contact made me swoon. His hands under my legs and around my back sent charges of electricity rushing through my frame, limbs going weak all over.

  “Oh,” came my whispered murmur. “You.”

  A black brow quirked again.

  “Yes, me,” he said dryly. “Did you expect this?”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t expect to be kidnapped. No one does. Are you joking?”

  Dark blue eyes took me in.

  “I don’t know what to think when it comes to you,” he growled, brows lowering. “No one exactly does what you did.”

  My reply was immediate. “No one does exactly what you did either, what with selling my photo to Mark Janow. Why did you do that? How could you?”

  His lips quirked.

  “I like to make money,” he said dryly. “Not that you’d understand.”

  That was insulting and I sat up abruptly, head spinning.

  “I know enough about money,” I said. “More than you think, even if I’m not a billionaire!”

  My family was scraping by to put me through college. Of course, there were the merit scholarships and financial aid, but even with all that, it wasn’t enough. My mom didn’t make a huge sum as a hairdresser, so I was already up to my eyeballs in debt. Trust me, I understood the value of money, especially with the tuition bill lying open on my dresser.

  But I didn’t want to let it all go in front of this cocky billionaire, so pressing my lips in a tight line, the threats started pouring out.

  “You better let me go,” I hissed. “Right now. Untie my hands.”

  Instead, Theo signed again, striding over to the refrigerator before retrieving an ice cold bottle of water.

  “Here,” he said, handing it to me, massive frame towering. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

  I took the bottle, none to gratefully, and swigged the water. Man, that hit the spot. My mouth felt like a dry Brillo pad.

  But Theo was in his own world.

  “I just don’t understand, Mia.” He paused squinting at me. “That’s your name, right?”

  I shot him an exasperated expression. “You obviously know my name is Mia, because you found me and kidnapped me right out of my bed!”

  Theo put his hands out defensively. “I know. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

  “You weren’t expecting it to be me?” I scoffed. “What does that mean? Who were you expecting?”

  Theo stood and stalked around the room. “I mean – I didn’t think it was going to be you, the Picto-famous girl.”

  He wasn’t making any sense, and my forehead crinkled.

  “What difference does that make?”

  He grimaced. “Nothing. Forget i
t. Nothing.” He put a hand on his hip. “What pissed you off so badly anyways? Why did you have to break into my site and post all those pics?”

  This time it was my turn to goggle at him. Did this guy not get it? Had he not read any of Anonimo’s emails?

  “I’m pissed because number one: you are making money off my image without my explicit consent!” I shrieked, going even louder with each word. “And number two: You. Kidnapped. Me!”

  Theo ran over to me, grabbing the gag off the table. Clumsily, he tried to shove it back into my mouth.

  Goddamn it! I wasn’t going to have that thing back in there, kicking and screaming for real now. On impulse, I tried to bite at the masculine hand coming at me while desperately trying to wriggle away at the same time. Theo’s knee slipped on the couch, toppling us both over. He landed square on me, while simultaneously plunging his thumb into my open mouth.

  “Mmmph!” came my choke, trying to spit him out. “Urrrm!”

  But there was something oddly arousing about the entire situation. Theo’s gorgeous blue eyes blazed at me intently, that big body still. And suddenly, I registered that this man was just as turned on as I was. His chest rose and fell imperceptibly, the result of short, shallow breaths. Those pupils dilated, staring into my eyes, until they were almost entirely black.

  And shamefully, I reacted. We were caught in a tractor beam, two people locked together in hate as well as unstoppable attraction. The thumb in my mouth was deliciously salty, and staring back at him, my tongue slowly circled around his digit. Licking his lips, a soft rumble escaped his mouth.

  “Oh shit,” were his only words.

  The energy between us soared and crackled in the air around us. Closing my eyes and giving into the moment, I pursed my lips and sucked. Theo took my face with both of his hands and brought his mouth to mine.

  Suddenly, we were kissing wildly. Our tongues and lips crashed together in a fevered frenzy. Theo’s hands were all over me as I trembled like a leaf in a strong wind. And suddenly, his mouth was everywhere, covering my throat and collarbone with ravenous kisses.

  “Oh!” I cried. “Oh god!”