Beckett
“Arianne is here,” Valerie announces when I pick up my landline. “She’s in the 1916 Traub
conference room. I’ll let Rhys know.”
Given our mutual penchant for bikes, all of our conference rooms are named after rare motorcycles.
“Thanks.” I say. “Did you order breakfast?” “I got a breakfast board from Blond Pistachio. Your
favorite.” “You’re the best. Coffee?” “It goes without saying. Lattes from Thoroughly Hot should
be arriving any minute now, the fridge is stocked full with Perrier water, catered lunch will be
delivered at one, I have a dessert board and more lattes scheduled for four. Dinner reservations are
set at Le Specialità for seven o’clock.”
“You’re the picture of efficiency.” “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.” I chuckle. When Easton
told me he’d gotten hold of Arianne, I cleared my schedule. Rhys did the same. We’re eager to get
the ball rolling.
“If we’re going to hold Arianne hostage for the day, we might as well make it as pleasant as
possible,” I say.
“Although, I’m happily married and you’re my boss and we have a nonfraternization clause in our
contract, may I take some liberties?” She continues before I can answer. “I doubt any woman in her
right mind would be opposed to having you and Rhys as her captors.”
I laugh. “Do I have to call Emmett and tell him about your secret fantasy?”
“He knows.”
“Moving right along.” She laughs. “Let me gather my things and I’ll head to the conference room.”
“Okay.” I get up, but my phone rings. I debate whether to let it go to voicemail. Let me get this. I
acc ept the call. “How’s my baby boy?” My success has no bearing on the way she sees me. “I’m
fine, Mom.” “Fine?” Concern colors her voice. “I’m unstoppable.” “Now you’re talking.” We both
laugh. “New York was good?” “It was a worthwhile trip.” “Did you get back yesterday?” “No. I got
back a few hours ago. I extended my stay by a day to meet with Russian distributors who happened
to be in the Big Apple. I flew overnight so I could be back at the office first thing.”
“Beckett, I don’t care if your fancy jet is equipped with those lounging beds, that’s not proper
sle ep,” she says. That’s the topnotch doctor in her talking. “At this rate, you’re going to burn out—”
“Mom, is there anything urgent?” “I was at a medical conference in Baltimore before you left for
New York, so we haven’t talked in a while and you know how I feel about text messages, Beckett,”
she says. “I miss my baby boy.”
I chuckle. “I miss you too, Mom, but I have to go. I have someone waiting for me for a meeting.”
“When will Dad and I see you?” “I have to get to this meeting.” “All right. All right. I get it,” she
says. “Go do your CEO thing.” There’s laughter in her words.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I say. “I can only hope,” she says with a sigh. “A little dramatic, much?” She
laughs. “Big kiss.”
“Right back at ya, Mom.” I hang up and rush to the conference room. As I approach, the sound of
laughter erupts.
I’m glad Rhys is entertaining our new consultant. I pause in front of the door for a beat. “Oh God,
that’s so funny, Rhys,” Arianne say. “I can’t believe that happened.”
There’s a melodic timbre to her voice— I’m hit with my tragic reality. I have to ke ep it to my fist
for another eighteen days. I won’t hear the soft, helpless whispers of a woman’s voice in my ear as I
take ownership of her pussy, pounding into her forcefully. For another excruciating two-and-a-half
weeks, I’ll have to live without hearing a woman scream out my name at the top of her lungs as I
push her over the edge.
Fuck. I haven’t been able to forget the smart mouth I was trapped inside the elevator with. These
past twelve days have been torturous. The memory of her only heightened my misery.
I’m sure Rhys is enjoying every minute of my suffering. He took cruel pleasure in texting me daily
reminders of my vow of chastity, each time including photos of the coveted bike from different
angles.
Asshole. I ignored his taunting subterfuge, preferring to lose myself in work in the hopes of
ignoring my hungry cock. I can’t count the number of times I’ve jerked off since agreeing to this
ridiculous challenge. It’s so obscene, I should be arrested. By the time he hands me the keys to his
Legendary British Vintage Black, I’ll be a wild beast.
I sigh. I’m about to enter, but freeze. Shit. I forgot my i Pad. I race back to my office, zooming by
Valerie’s. “Is everything okay, Beckett?” “I’m not as organized as I’d like this morning,” I say over
my shoulder. With my device in hand, I make my way to the conference room. Arianne is still
laughing her head off.
Sounds like Rhys and her are hitting it off. Good. I enter without knocking. Rhys stands up, a huge
grin stretched across his face, malice twinkling bright in his eyes.
What is he up to? Then, it all seems to happen in slow motion. Arianne pivots on her chair, ready to
get up, but freezes. The warm smile on her gorgeous face dissipates, r eplaced by sheer confusion.
I’m dumbfounded. I squint, certain I’m seeing things. She mirrors my bewildered expression. Ari is
Arianne? Whoa. I didn’t put two and two together. “Well, well, well,” I say, when I recover. She
stands up. She’s wearing another suit of armor. This three-piece suit is navy-blue with white
pinstripes. I catch a glimpse of her pencil skirt that hits her below the knee.
I swear I’m going to develop a fetish. Like last time, the look is strait-laced. What are you hiding
underneath that armor? She’s staring at me. I lift an expectant eyebrow. She tilts her head back as if
to take a better look at me. “You?” “Yes, me.” “No...” My grin widens in amusement. “Yes...” I
mimic her. She shakes her head. “How can this be?” Talk about coincidence. “Small world,” I say.
“Small world.” “You two know each other?” Rhys’s gaze bounces from mine to Arianne’s.
“She’s my roomie from the elevator incident.” He stares at us with astonishment. “Her?”
I nod before turning my attention to the stunned woman in the room. “Wasn’t it you who said we
were never going to see each other again?” “You can’t be the man Easton referred me to,” she says.
“I am. Beckett Christensen, please to meet you.” I extend a hand. Wide eyes bounce from my hand
to my gaze. “You’re my new client?” Basically, your boss. My lonely hand is still stuck in the air.
She hesitates, but she shakes my hand. Her touch is as soft as silk. “I am. I’m the CEO.” I arch a
brow. “And you’re Arianne Buchanan.” “I—I am.” “You’re sure about that?” She flashes me an
unimpressed stare and pulls her hand from mine. I take a st ep closer and lean in, forcing her to look
up. Pleading brown eyes flutter at me. She comes across as a woman unaware of her beauty. I take
my sweet time milking the moment before speaking. “Looks like we’ll be working closely together.
Like I said, never say never.”
She swallows hard.