Beckett
park my red Alfa Romeo 4 C Spider in front of Arianne’s El Segundo complex building. Lucky for
me, she lives in a neighboring city, therefore traffic wasn’t too much of a bitch. After Arianne
buzzes me in, I take the elevator and get off on the fourth floor and head down the hallway to her
sublet.
I knock. She opens. When she does, I take a st ep back, stunned. Whoa. If it weren’t for that
gorgeous face and those sparkling brown eyes staring back at me, I’d think I had knocked on the
wrong door.
Talk about dramatic transformation. The woman standing in front of me isn’t as guarded as the one
who left my office hours ago.
No more armor? I take in every single delicious inch of Arianne’s body. Her outfit doesn’t show
much skin, but wow, wow, and wow. Since the elevator incident, she’s been a fascination. Before
her, I was never this obsessed with longer skirts. In fact, I don’t even know women who wear them.
The skirt she’s wearing now still hits below the knee, but it’s a lot flirtier than the one she wore
earlier. It’s demure and sexy as all fuck at the same time. The latter, because I’m dying to know
what she’s hiding underneath.
Thong? G-string? Boy shorts? Lace or satin panties? Whatever she’s wearing, I’d love nothing
more than to rip them off with my teeth.
My blood scalds, turning to lava in my veins, which rushes hot and thick to my cock. The fucker is
dying to say hello.
Arianne tilts her head. “You’re staring, Beckett.” No. I’m gawking openly and stupidly. “Your
hair... You’re stunning.” So far, I’ve only seen her with her hair pulled back tight in a severe bun.
It’s still up, but this sexy messy look enhances her features and showcases her eyes beautifully. Her
makeup is a little more dramatic tonight. Those dark-red pouty lips are inviting to no end.
“The way I style it screams, unapproachable... so my best friend tells me. I don’t want to come
across that way.”
“Tell your best friend she’s wrong. The pinned-up hairstyle screams, challenge.”
“What do you mean?” I cock an eyebrow. “It makes a guy wonder what it would take to be lucky
enough to run his fingers through your hair.”
Her eyes are so fucking huge right now, I bite off a smile. She blushes. “Same for the skirt.” I lower
my gaze. “I love the longer length on you.” My eyes brush up and down her body. “It’s also a
challenge... I’m not even going to tell you what’s been running through my mind since I saw you in
that elevator.”
“Is this appropriate talk, Mr. Christensen?” “We’re no longer at the office, Miss Buchanan. We’re
two friends about to go out and have a great time.”
“Friends?” “Friends.” “Do playboys have female friends?” “Don’t believe everything Google tells
you.” “A picture speaks a thousand words. And there are a lot of photos of you on the internet.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “In that case, you’ll be my first female friend.” “That’s a tall order.”
“Something tells me you can manage... you’re certainly dressed for the part.” I wink.
She beams. “Really?” Arianne’s tempting body is adorned in a black shimmery pleated skirt. She’s
wearing a gunmetal gray fitted t-shirt with a slogan printed across her
chest that reads ‘Holy Chic’ traced in black sequined letters. Her feet are strapped in a pair of
laced-up, black high heels.
Holy chic, indeed. I lean into her until my lips flirt with her earlobe. “Own it, Arianne. You. Look.
Fucking. Hot.”
This close, I smell every note of her light-scented perfume. She clears her throat. “It’s just clothes.”
“You look fucking hot in just clothes.” Fuck, I’m dying to know what you look like out of them.
“Thank you,” she says with a touch of shyness. “My best friend Phoebe’s boyfriend has a cousin
who is a personal shopper at Beverly Hills’ Neiman Marcus. A few text messages later, and Andrea
had all my measurements. By the time I got there, she had a rack full of options. Thank God she
didn’t try to make me look slutty.”
“Slutty is for women who have nothing more to offer.” “Google tells me you’ve dated your fair
share of slutty women.” “Which makes me an expert,” I say. “About those Google searches. If
there’s anything you want to know about me, ask.”
She considers me for a beat. “I will. No more late-night searches.” Her eyes grow wide at her slip of
the tongue. “I don’t mean late night, late night. I mean... it’s for research.” She shakes her head.
“Forget it.”
Late night? My cock twitches at the visual of her slipping her fingers between her wet pussy,
thinking of me. I push the thought aside, if I don’t, my cock will become an impediment to my
ability to walk.
“I’ll allow the late-night searches as long as it’s the last thing you do before going to bed. It’s even
better if you conduct those searches while you’re in bed...”
Her jaw drops. My inner voice was dying to be heard. “You did not just say that.” “I did.” No point
denying it. Interest shines bright in those brown eyes. This evening is promising. “As for the
compliment, I’m flattered,” she says changing the subject. “I guess I’m rocking the
chic/fashionably nerdy look Andrea was going for?”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “Drop the nerdy. You’re chic and fashionable.” She smiles. “You don’t
have to butter me up, Beckett. I’m sure you must be used to st epping out on the town with actresses
and supermodels.”
“And you fit the part beautifully.” That shy smile turns into a beaming one. “If we’re exchanging
compliments, you look good—” “Good?” She giggles. “You look great—” She gives me a
onceover, taking in my head-to-toe black attire. “Okay, you look incredible even when you aren’t
wearing a suit.”
“You’ve been checking me out?” “Nowhere in my contract does it stipulate I’m obligated to bare
my soul to my client.”
There’s a hell of a lot more I’d love for you to bear. “We can ke ep bantering all night or we can
have some fun.”
If we don’t get out of here, I’ll be balls de ep inside her pussy within the next five minutes. There’s
only so much a sex-starved man can take.
Thirteen days of celibacy, and I’m at my breaking point. “I’m ready to have some fun,” she says.