by Peyton Banks
“How is his number in my phone?” I whisper as I stare at the name on the screen.
Kareem- “I figured I’d wait a few days before I said anything. Can you imagine my surprise when I woke up in bed alone? Why’d you leave?”
His text dances across the screen, and all I can think about is, when did we exchange numbers? I know I drank a lot, but not that damn much, and I’d purposely avoided the question as I lay in his arms.
And as if he’s reading my mind, another text appears.
Kareem- “I texted myself and programmed my number while you slept, in case you’re wondering. After the night we had, I didn’t want to miss out on another chance.”
I should be pissed, and for a tiny second, I am, but it fades quickly. My skin grows hot, and flutters build in my gut at the memory of our night together. Picturing the way he touched me, and caressed every inch of my body, has my senses just as high as they were then. My finger hovers in place, but I fight the urge to respond. I don’t need this right now.
Friday night was it: one night. A moment in time, or a lapse of judgment, depending on how one chooses to look at it. Doesn’t really matter. It was what I needed at that moment, and being with him served its purpose.
But goodness was he amazing in bed.
I rub at my neck, still staring at the screen. What would it hurt to respond? It’s not like either of us is looking for anything serious. But who couldn’t benefit from great sex? I think about what he’s doing right now. Is he waiting for me to answer? Are his fingers pressed against his phone, ready to reply?
“Mm,” I mutter and pull at the collar of my shirt.
The memory of what he did with those fingers sends a chill sweeping through my body. I bite my lip before pulling it between my teeth to chew on it. Fuck it. I prepare to type a response, but I’m interrupted by a knock at my door. When I look up, my assistant is standing at the threshold.
“Good Morning, Rylan. Both Mr. Basses are waiting in the conference room.”
Choosing to ignore him, I nod and grab my padfolio from the center of my desk. “Let’s get this over with.” I heave a sigh.
Priscilla gives me a soft smile but chooses to keep her words to herself. I should probably follow her lead. Speaking out will change nothing about the circumstances. The best thing to do is to put on my big girl panties and show both of them I don’t need a babysitter.
Kareem
I stare at my phone, waiting for Rylan to respond. Well hoping she does is more like it. She’s probably looking at her screen thinking I’m some crazy fucking stalker. But honestly, I don’t care if she does as long as she answers me. All weekend long, the only thing I thought about was her. Shit, my pillow still carries the scent of her perfume, two days after she left. That’s how I know I need to have her.
So call it what you want, but I call it fate. I mean, let’s be real. What are the odds that on my first night in town, I run into the one woman who’s managed to intrigue me beyond a physical level? No, we didn’t spend much time together, and we didn’t converse much at all. But from the moment she walked into that lounge, I knew I had to talk to her. And now that I’ve had her in my bed, all I want is the chance to make her mine.
Not to mention, I love the way her body obeys me. Just thinking about it now makes my dick throb. My mind goes back to Friday night, and I adjust in my seat. The last thing I need is to be hard in this fucking meeting.
“KJ, can you put the damn phone away. They’ll be here in a minute, so be presentable,” my father barks.
I clear my throat and press my lips together to keep from saying something that I might regret. Over the years, I’ve learned not to take his tone personally. He’s a hard man, shit, every generation before me, even my dad and uncles’, is the same. Quick-tempered and full of bass. I chuckle at the saying. It’s something my mother would say to me anytime I was in trouble.
It’d make him happy if I did what he asks. Instead, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. Sometimes I wonder how he’d react if things didn’t go his way—like today, for example. Here I am, in yet another office of his. I’ve seen more people than I’ve cared to in the last one-hundred-eighty-days. This is the last place I want to be, but we had a deal. Time’s up, and now I have to come through on my end of the bargain. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, but I’m a man of my word.
The deal was, I could have five years to do whatever I wanted after college. And I did exactly that: traveled, partied and lived freely. Now, I have to step up and learn the family business. Don’t get me wrong. My father has built a legacy, one I’m proud to have passed down to me. I just wish things could go differently.
He glares at me, twisting his neck, daring me to defy his request. I push a chuckle through my nose and straighten in my seat. I glance down at my phone one more time before lifting in my seat to slip it into my pocket. As I do this, the glass doors open, sending a subtle screech through the room. I direct my gaze in that direction, immediately frozen in place.
“Rylan.” Even though I whisper her name, she seems to have heard me.
Her eyes meet mine, and she pauses mid step. We stare at each other for what feels like a million years, but is only seconds.
“Thank you for joining us, Ms. St. James. This is my son, Kareem Jr,” dad introduces us.
I jump to my feet, not caring that I missed my pocket, sending my phone to the floor. Her eyes follow the device before reconnecting with mine. Licking my lips, I inch closer, holding a hand out to shake hers.
What’d I tell you?
Fate.
She slipped away while I was sleeping Saturday morning, and ignored every text I sent her way today. But here she is, unable to avoid me.
I lick my lips, letting my eyes roam her frame. “Nice to meet you,” I say, not even hiding the grin on my face.
She takes in a breath, and I can tell she’s nervous. Rylan reluctantly shakes my hand before awkwardly scurrying to the opposite side of the table. She sits, working hard to avoid looking at me. The young woman who entered with her takes a place beside her, smiling at both my father and me.
“I’ve called everyone here today to discuss my son’s addition to the team.” My father begins the speech he’s given to the five other offices we have around the country, but I tune him out.
Throughout his spiel, Rylan continues to avoid my gaze, and though I know I should look away, I can’t. Every nerve sings with electricity, and with every breath I take, the memory of her straddling my lap plays with my consciousness.
I grip my crotch under the table, hoping to quell the desire to see her naked again. Her sights land on me, neither of us paying attention to the words coming out of my father’s mouth. I know he notices, it’s hard not to, but either way, all he does is clear his throat. I blink to clear my mind and hopefully focus on the room, but it’s no use.
My vision blurs as I picture her in the middle of my living room in only her bra and skirt. It’s so ingrained in me that I can smell her perfume right now, or maybe it’s because she’s only feet away from me.
“Now,” I demand and she does as she’s told, exposing the red lace bra she wears.
Fuck.
What is it about a woman in red? Red lips, red hair, red panties. It all looks good against vibrant melanated skin.
I force myself to breathe when I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Looking to my dad, I see he doesn’t seem fazed by my brief trip down memory lane. Good. Rylan picks up a pencil, pulling my attention back to her. She’s watching my father closely, hanging on to his every word. She raises a hand to her mouth, using her index finger to play with her bottom lip. I lick mine, and once again, I slip back to the night she lay in my bed.
I signal for her to come to me, and when she does, I gaze up at her, snaking my palms up her thighs until I reach the waistband of her panties. Her skin is warm under my touch, the heat radiating from her traveling to my groin.
She grabs my hand to aid me in pulling the fabri
c down over her plump ass. She’s ready for me. I just know she is.
I sit back and slouch in my seat. “Sit,” I order.
Her chest shudders at my words, but she doesn’t speak. She only complies, straddling me before I finish getting the word out. When she lets me into her temple, my mouth gapes open.
“Whoever your boss is, thank him for me,” I say after getting a hold of myself.
She tilts her head in confusion.
“I doubt you’d be here if you didn’t have pent up frustration to release.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, I pull her close by gripping the base of her neck, and crash her mouth down on mine again.
“Kareem,” my father’s voice startles me, snapping me back to reality.
When I gain clarity of my surroundings, everyone is staring at me but her. Rylan fiddles with her padfolio while the others glare at me as if I’ve lost my damn mind. And you know what, maybe I have. I wasn’t sure about any of this at first, but now I think I might like working here after all.
3
Rylan
“So let me get this straight. The guy from the bar the other night is both the man your boss hired to monitor your department, and his son?” Kathryn says through the receiver.
Yesterday was a nightmare. Not only did I learn Kareem snuck his number into my phone, but also, he’s my fucking boss. I swear if there was ever a time I felt the universe was out to get me, that time is now. The jacked-up part about this whole thing is that I have no one to blame but myself. I wasn’t forced into the bar, and no one else had anything to do with me riding the man senseless.
And I was okay with that. It was my choice to have a one-night stand. But now I have to look at his mug every day for God knows how long. All I wanted to do was forget. I let myself go for one night.
“Yup, you heard right,” I quip.
“Shit,” she squeals. “That is—a lot. What are you going to do?” she asks.
I sigh. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be on the phone with you.”
She laughs. “Girl, I only wish my life was half as interesting as yours right now. Sorry, boo. I don’t really know what to say.”
“Ugh. I have to quit,” I add, as I walk through the door of my office. “That’s it. I have a little money saved, and it should hold me over until I find a new job,” I joke in a non-funny way.
Kathryn sucks her teeth. “Oh, shut the hell up. You are not quitting your job. You’ve worked entirely too hard for that position. This is temporary, and it’s not like you’ll need to see him every day. Once he’s in charge, he’ll be on the same schedule as his damn daddy. Relax, or, do us all a favor and let loose; date the man.”
I open my mouth to speak, but my words lodge in the depths of my throat. Gargling, I clear my airways and drop my belongings on the desk. “I can’t date my boss’s son,” I whisper and turn my back to the entrance.
“You can do whatever you want. You’ve already screwed the man, what will a few dates hurt?” She pauses for my response but continues when I have none. “Not a damn thing. Now get off the phone, beef up, and show them you’re about your business.”
I huff, “Bye.”
Kathryn hangs up without another word. My chair creaks when I plop down and scoot closer to the hard surface. I sort through my things, putting it all in its proper place. Shaking my head, I contemplate why I even bothered calling her. She’ll always tell me to do the unexpected. On the other hand, I want to do what is expected so that I hit every goal.
Friday, while it wasn’t my first walk on the kinky side, was a fluke for me. I’ve been single for two years since ending my last relationship. I have no desire to jump back into anything else. My dream job came shortly after and has been my primary focus since. No other distractions are needed. This time is for me, though my friends feel otherwise.
I glance at my clock, grateful my day is nearly over. Lucky for me, I’ve managed to make it through my schedule with no run-ins with Kareem. I wanted to stay home and pretend to be sick, if that meant I didn’t have to face the elephant in the building.
How am I supposed to do my job to my standards with him in the vicinity? Not to mention the way he stared at me in that meeting. I wouldn’t be surprised if his dad noticed how blatantly he was watching me.
There’s a knock at my door, and I look toward it. My assistant enters, handing me a small stack of papers. “Here are the files from the promotions team. Daniel said he’ll have the general ledger for August by the end of the day.”
I take the invoices from her, skimming through the contracts, and sorting them for my next year’s budget review.
“Tuan in accounting should be sending you the quarterly report in a few minutes.” We both pause when my computer dings, alerting me of an email, just as she said.
“Got it. Ask Velle for the expense report and double-check with Kim for my payroll report.”
“Will do. Here’re the contracts for next quarter’s campaigns.” She places a binder in front of me, then retreats. “Oh and Mr. Bass asked for you to stop by his office after your two-thirty.”
I frown. “I thought he was going to be out the rest of the week?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. He just called and told me to relay the message.”
A sharp breath leaves me with a nod as I glance at my wristwatch. “Okay.” I sigh. “It’s lunchtime,” I whisper. “Thank you, Priscilla. I’m going to grab a quick bite before my meeting. In the meantime, please get me the minutes from the Villa Winery consult, I need to get Alan the proposal first thing in the morning.”
“Got it. Enjoy lunch.”
“You too,” I say to her back.
I shake my head and grab my purse from my side drawer. I do a quick double-take of my office before exiting to feed my hunger.
Kareem
“Dad. Seriously, I got this. You wanted me to learn the ropes, and eventually take over, right? Let me. Between the administrative team you have here, and all the months of training I just went through, I think we can survive a few weeks.”
My father goes on about what he expects from me, and I roll my eyes in response. There’s no sense in going back and forth with him. He needs to have the last word, and nothing I say will change that. Sometimes I just wish he trusted me a little more. I am his heir, after all, and I’m more than capable of running the family business with the same integrity.
“I’m serious, Junior. Read the notes, and please try not to rile anyone up, as you did in Philly.”
I chuckle at the memory of my time at the Pennsylvania office. “I won’t. Atlanta is in much better shape than Philly was. But I can’t assess that without the hard questions.”
“Just stay clear of St. James. She hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure she’s on edge with this change. She’s an asset, let’s keep her that way.”
“Pops.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Okay, your momma is pinching me, so I’ll check in a few days.”
“Tell her, I love her. Y’all be safe.”
I end the call without waiting for a response, and if you ask me, it couldn’t have been soon enough. I love my folks, but my dad can be annoying. It makes sense. He built this business from the ground up, and it’s because of his sacrifice that I have the life I live.
The last thing I want to do is ruin what he’s worked for. It might not have been my dream to sit behind this desk, but business is embedded in my blood. Plus, he didn’t spend thirty-thousand a year at Morehouse for me to waste my MBA.
Pulling on the sleeves of my white dress shirt, I grab my gray blazer and slip it on. I check my watch, realizing lunch is almost over and I’ve yet to eat. My stomach growls almost on cue. I stuff my iPhone into my pocket along with my wallet. I don’t have much of an appetite, but I know I need to eat something and do it now before my next meeting.
As I stand, a voice calls out my name, distracting me from my plans. A grin stretches across my face. I know that voice all too well, an
d the vibrations of it pull at my chest.
“Um. Sorry, I thought Mr. Bass was looking for me.” Rylan frowns when she sees me behind my father’s desk.
I lick my lips as I tug at the hem of my blazer. “I am,” I say as I cock a brow. “Please come in, take a seat.”
Rylan sighs, and I see the hesitation in her eyes. Even from across the room, I can read her energy, and just like the other night, it’s loud and clear.
“I guess you still like what you see,” I add, drawing her attention to my face. “Are you just going to stand there or take a seat?” I give a quick yank on my pant legs before lowering myself onto the plush leather chair.
With both elbows on the desk, I lean forward and crack my knuckles and watch her closely. Rylan’s chest heaves, then she presses her lips together, letting her hold on the doorframe linger. When she steps into the room, I watch her fingers free themselves from the structure. I trail my gaze across her chest then up to her face.
My groin stirs when my eyes fall to her hips. Her strides are distracting, and the sad part is, she’s barely moved. Rylan sits on the edge of the patterned chair in front of me. She reclines, shifting her weight so that one leg crosses the other. My gaze drops to her thighs. She’s not in a skirt today, but her pants do nothing to disrupt my memories.
No number of layers could stilt the image of her soft, creamy skin. Every dimple, the tattoo she has inked down the back of her right thigh, and even the faint lines of stretch marks from where her ass forms perfectly, are all etched in my brain. My eyes scrape up her leg, over her torso, and back to her face.
I rub my chest in reaction to the tingles that build there.
“You’re beautiful,” I blurt before I realize what I’m doing.
Rylan doesn’t respond verbally, but judging by how her chest rises and falls and how she’s fighting the smile that tinkers on her lips, she’s flattered by my compliment. Seeing the internal battle she has with losing control of her poised appearance reminds me of Friday night. I saw her need for dominance then, just as I do now. She’s a boss and probably fought her way to the top. That’s the speech I imagine she’s conjured up to defend her inner alpha.