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  Waiting For It

  Three Player Co-op Book 2

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Allyson Lindt

  Cover art by Romancepremades.com

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Waiting For It (Three Player Co-op, #2)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  To every geek girl, everywhere, trust yourself.

  Chapter One

  The one thing that made crunch time tolerable was my boss. It wasn’t his fault we were working eighty-hour weeks to wrap up our company’s most anticipated game ever; he took his directions from the people above him, like the rest of us.

  Besides, even at eleven at night, when had both been staring at the same code problem for the last three hours and were punchy from lack of sleep, he was gorgeous. Dark hair that was cut close, piercing dark eyes, and tonight, a tantalizing hint of stubble.

  Luke clucked. “Anne, Anne, Anne... Why the fuck isn’t this working, Anne?”

  “Gremlins?” I loved the way my name rolled off his tongue. And I was too tired to pretend I didn’t want other bits of me on his tongue as well. I also didn’t have any better answer to his question than any other time he’d asked it tonight.

  We were in his office. As a director, he got one of the mid-range offices, with room for a small table in the corner and a great view of the mountains. I was sit-leaning against the edge of his polished-wood desk, watching him work. God, I loved the view. It almost made up for the fact that we were working on a Sunday.

  Luke had returned to the flow chart we started an hour ago, and was drawing another series of lines. He jabbed the marker into the board several times, leaving a series of ink freckles. “The hobbits had a more direct, easy route walking to Mordor. Who wrote this shit?”

  It didn’t matter that his question wasn’t funny. I still had to cut off my laugh before it became one of those drawn-out, sleep-deprived giggles. “We did.”

  I’d had more coffee in the last week than I used to drink in a year. Anything with high amounts of caffeine had been added to my Best Friends list since this project went sideways, shit itself, and landed face down, ass up in a ditch at the bottom of a deep ravine. Laughing was one of the only ways to stay sane in the midst of it all.

  He sighed and dropped the marker. It clattered against the tray and bounced to the ground. “In hindsight, we should have just chartered a helicopter and flown into the mountain. The direct path is always the best.”

  And it was rarely the path a group of developers took. Partly because we all had different definitions of direct. “I’m at the point where I’d sell my soul to Sauron to fix this issue. I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “You’d make a horrible ring wraith. The hood and eternal damnation would obscure those gorgeous eyes.” He turned back to the board and bent at the waist to pick up the marker, the muscles along his back and arms rippling under his T-shirt. He was a Marine-turned-developer and still had the physique.

  “And you’d make a lousy hobbit.” I smirked to hide my uncertainty. When he did things like compliment me in a way that sounded suspiciously like flirting, and then kept going as if nothing happened, it was almost impossible to take my eyes off him.

  Too bad I was so lousy at seeing the signs of someone’s intent. Misread it one too many times in an ex.

  “Are you kidding? I’d make the best fucking hobbit. First of all, look at the size of these feet. Legit thirteens right here.” He raised his foot.

  I bit back my you know what they say about guys with big feet comment. That visual was for me alone. “And you’d forgo adventure, to stay home in the Shire and live a peaceful life?”

  “I wouldn’t forgo it, but I would make sure we were back in time for afternoon tea.” He cupped his hand to the side of his head, like he was covering an earpiece. “Alpha Echo Sierra, this is Foxtrot One Half. We’re ten clicks out from Mount Doom. Over.”

  My giggles threatened to return. I loved Luke’s impersonations. I couldn’t do the voices like he could, but that rarely stopped me from participating. “This is Sierra One Half, on your three. We’ve got orcs inbound. Spinning up the guns. Over.”

  “I’m going in. Give me cover.” He mimed holding onto something, then made a tossing gesture. “Ring is in the fire. I repeat, ring is in the fire. Tea’s getting cold. Let’s head out, boys.” He straightened again. “See how much easier that would have been?”

  I laughed. “Tolkien fans everywhere would have your hide.”

  “They’d need to get in line, behind the X fans we’re about to piss off with this plot twist.” Luke winked.

  And here were the giggles. I couldn’t stop them this time. It was like being drunk without alcohol. The harder I tried to rein them in, the more my body shook.

  “It’s not that funny.” But Luke was laughing too.

  Several minutes—and my aching sides and cheeks—later, we calmed down enough to stand upright again.

  “Back to basics. The game is breaking on the call to the relationship AI.” He spoke through gasps for breath, the occasional chuckle slipping through.

  I composed myself and replied. “Are we passing too many variables? Not enough?” We’d asked the question before, in about fifty different ways. It wasn’t the right direction to look in, but I was stuck on that point and couldn’t move past it.

  I could pretend there was no sexual tension between us better than he did. Even if he weren’t my boss, I’d probably get stuck in the indecision of whether or not to say something to him.

  My best friend, Sadie, would have made up her mind months ago and stuck to it. Either to pursue him or to ignore him. She was my exact opposite when it came to being outgoing and decisive. She’d landed her dream job because of it, along with two gorgeous boyfriends.

  Yup. Two. And I couldn’t even hold onto one for more than a couple of dates, because I was busy drooling over men I couldn’t have and didn’t dare approach.

  “This is why you don’t let programmers write romance,” Luke said. “They think falling in love should be as simple as ticking the right 1s and 0s.”

  “They includes you.” And me. While I didn’t believe romance was truly that straightforward, there were a lot of days I wished it was. I’d love a checklist,
telling me exactly what to do, say, and look for, so I’d know if I was spending time with the right person. Then again, Do you work for him? would have a big fat 1 next to it, telling me to back off.

  Luke shook his head. “I wasn’t born a geek. I’m not one of them.”

  “One of us.”

  “Not you. You’re different.”

  My breath caught from the way he looked at me, holding me with that deep, seductive gaze. I shook the lust aside... mostly. “Because I have tits?”

  “Because you don’t think the way they do. You know we’ve got people on the team who won’t be able to process this new storyline. Linear is great for programming from specs, but sometimes sucks for troubleshooting, and it definitely doesn’t work for falling in love.”

  The game had a twist. A bigger one than we ever included. Fewer than ten of us had been told how all the pieces fit together. “That would explain the blue screen of death when The X finally takes off his mask for the first time.”

  Luke put one hand over his heart, took my hand with the other, and held my gaze. “Art”—his voice dropped an octave and addressed me with the one of the game character’s names—“I have to tell you something. I... I...” He stopped, eyes wide and expression frozen.

  “I know. I’ve always—” I struggled to stay in character and not smile, as I waved my hand in front of his face. “Are you listening?”

  Luke didn’t move.

  He didn’t so much as blink.

  I snapped my fingers. “Hello?”

  He finally focused on me. “Give me a plasma rifle in the 40-watt range,” he said in a near-perfect Schwarzenegger-as-The-Terminator voice.

  And now I was giggling again. I wouldn’t let it get out of control. I wouldn’t.

  I managed to stop laughing long enough to talk. “All right, Romeo. If the problem is us geeks don’t know how to write romance, how are you going to woo your in-game love interest?”

  “Not Romeo. Gomez. As in Adams.”

  Seriously? I raised my eyebrows. “And that’s going to work for you?”

  “Oh, cara mia.” Luke brushed a thumb over my knuckles.

  A gasp rose in my throat. It was just a touch. Nothing special. Nothing more significant than he’d been doing all night.

  “How long has it been since we waltzed?” As always, his accent was dead on. He tugged me from my spot at the end of his desk, spun us in a fluid circle, and dipped me.

  Fucking dipped me, without dropping me. My giggle died when I saw the intensity in his gaze.

  “I would die for you. I would kill for you. Either way, what bliss.” He pressed his lips to mine.

  The rest of the world vanished. Whimper.

  Did I do that out loud?

  I kissed him back. His lips were soft, but his mouth was hard and demanding, and crushed into mine while he straightened us.

  He tightened his arm around my waist, and my body molded to his like they were meant to fit together. Each nibble across my lips and hungry swipe of his tongue made my pulse pound harder in my ears. Had I ever been kissed like this?

  It didn’t matter. At this moment, nothing else existed. I dragged my nails up his back, wanting to feel everything. His groan when he pressed into me, his erection digging into my hip, was as intoxicating as fine whiskey.

  He pulled away and put some distance between us. “I’m sorry.”

  My heart skipped, tripped, and landed flat on its face. “For what? Kissing me?” There was no way to keep from sounding hurt. I didn’t just read a kiss wrong, did I?

  “No. Definitely not.” Luke reached for me but dropped his hand. “But I’m your boss. That’s it. I quit.”

  I was typically pretty quick on the uptake, but my brain was struggling to keep track of this conversation. Maybe because that kiss had forced all the blood from my brain into every single extremity that could tingle with desire. “You can’t get out of this project that easily.” My laugh sounded as forced as it was.

  “You were willing to sell your soul to Sauron to finish it.”

  “That’s my soul. I’m not using it for much else, and these hours mean we’re already the walking dead. But you’re talking about—” his career. How did we go from fantasy kisses and dancing to this? I was taking things too seriously. Why did I always do that? I should have laughed off the I quit joke and gotten back to work like nothing happened.

  Except Luke didn’t look upset. Not with me. He was still watching me with those dark eyes that made my brain turn to mush. “Every time you laugh or sigh or say... anything—” He shook his head and let out a long breath. “This is so inappropriate.”

  “Yeah. Totally.” I knew that. Or I might have, if it were happening with anyone besides Luke.

  “I never want you to think you’re in this job because of anything other than your skill, or that you have to do anything other than your work, to stay employed here.”

  Right. Because sleep with me or I’ll fire you was a thing. I couldn’t imagine Luke doing that, which was a good reason for me to be wary of it. I could imagine him doing a lot of other things to me, though I usually tried to keep those thoughts to a minimum. Getting work done would be infinitely harder if I actually let the fantasies run rampant—of him pinning me to the wall and kissing along my neck... my chest... lower...

  “Anne?” He studied me with concern.

  I didn’t want to pretend the attraction didn’t flow both ways. If work weren’t an obstacle, would things go further?

  What would Sadie do?

  I didn’t know.

  Don’t I?

  Okay, I did, because Sadie and I might as well be twins, for as close as we’d been since we were kids.

  “What if we pretended?” My voice cracked on the question.

  “Pretended... I wasn’t your boss?”

  Chapter Two

  My heart was throwing itself against my ribs like it was in a one-man cage match, and I couldn’t find my voice. I nodded.

  “Strangers, then?” Luke stepped within arm’s reach. “Random encounter? Undeniable chemistry? Two people who’re definitely not us, even though we look and think exactly the same, who can’t keep their hands off each other?” His voice rumbled over me with temptation.

  Being picked up by him in a bar? Or anywhere? Yeah, that was hot. “Something like that.” My response came out raspy.

  He took my hand again and led me away from the desk. When we reached the small table at the other end of his office, he spun to face me. The toes of his shoes touched mine, and if I leaned in, our lips would meet.

  “What’s a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?” he asked.

  I laughed at the Deadpool reference. If he was pretending to be a stranger, he had a pretty good knack for getting into my head. “I’d quote the movie back at you, but even if we’re pretending we don’t work here, Rinslet can’t afford the copyright lawsuit.”

  Luke’s throaty chuckle rolled over me. “Let’s skip the pick-up lines,” he said. “I’m not great at those anyway. How about we fast-forward to the part where I invite you back to my room?”

  “Yes.” Fucking yes. My voice had recovered.

  He slid a hand to the back of my neck and kissed me again. There was no easing into this. He crushed against my mouth with an intensity I shared, and I parted my lips, to deepen the kiss.

  Our tongues danced and thrashed against each other. He drew me closer, but I wanted to feel more than the pressure of his frame against mine; I wanted to be part of him.

  I pushed his shirt up. One of us groaned—or was that both of us?—when my fingers met his bare skin.

  His scent mingled with the faint musk of desire plus a full day’s work. Everything about this, about us, was distinct and hyper-real. The way he tangled his fingers in my hair and tugged. The glide of his mouth along my jaw and to my collarbone. The barely-there fuzz of hair, when I slid my fingers up his torso and dug them into his chest, looking for something to hold onto.

  “You
’re fucking incredible,” Luke murmured against my shoulder, and the words vibrated through me. “I want to strip you down, and lick your pussy until you’re grinding against my face and writhing in ecstasy. I bet you taste like peaches.”

  And he was a dirty talker. From the increased throb between my legs, apparently that was a turn-on.

  The chime of his cell phone, unnaturally loud amid our panting and moaning, shattered the mood.

  “I should get that,” Luke said breathlessly.

  “Right.” I didn’t know if I was hurt he didn’t ignore it, or relieved he chose to answer.

  As he crossed the room, cool air sank into my cheeks and pushed away the heat of fantasy.

  I brushed my fingers over my tingling lips. The flesh was tender and swollen. My pulse wouldn’t stop doing speed-trial laps. What the fuck was I doing? Was I really going to sleep with my boss?

  Yeah, as far as bosses went, Luke was... wow, but I had to look him in the eye every day. Lust was one thing, but acting on it? Going further would be a mistake. I was a master of bad decisions, and that one would top the list.

  “Sorry about that.” He returned but kept his distance.

  Good. It was. Really. I just needed all of me to be glad he wasn’t close enough to touch. I wouldn’t even ask what the apology was for—the interruption or what came before. “No worries. I think we should call it a night soon, anyway.”

  A shadow crossed his face, but it was gone before I could identify it. “You’re right. It’s late. Our brains are stuck in a debug loop.”

  “That’s it.” I knew what the issue was with the code. Thank God, because it pushed the awkwardness out of my thoughts for a few seconds. “Check this out.” I strode back to the white board, erased several of the lines in his flow chart, and drew in new ones. Not an easy trick while my brain was trying to remember if I knew any positions in the Kama Sutra. “This routine is stuck in a loop.”

  “You’re right.” He moved to stand behind me but kept a couple feet between us.

  A couple feet of gaping chasm.

  I ignored the thought and kept drawing. “We need to call this variable sooner and populate it at a higher level, so these modules can access it.”