SIENNAM: It doesn’t sound so bad when you put it that way . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: lol, it wasn’t bad at all. Dude’s always busting my balls, saying things like, “You need to learn faster, son, or I’m gonna keel over before you ever win.”
SIENNAM: He sounds like a fun guy.
ROUGH RIDER 16: He is. He’s one of my favorites.
SIENNAM: Now tell me something random from your childhood.
ROUGHRIDER16: From childhood? Damn, I don’t know.
SIENNAM: Come on, just throw something out there.
ROUGHRIDER16: Okay, here’s something that might make you smile. My dad sat me down for “the talk” when I was thirteen. He was more nervous than I was. I wanted to tell him I already knew the details, but I was afraid I’d get in trouble, so I stayed quiet. He broke out a pad and paper and talked for like an hour, complete with drawings of stick people to illustrate. . . .
SIENNAM: OMG no! Stick people sex?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yep. It was brutal. If I ever have kids, there aren’t gonna be any drawings when we have the talk . . .
SIENNAM: So you don’t have kids—have you ever been married?
ROUGHRIDER16: No.
SIENNAM: Ever been close? Like, thought about it?
ROUGHRIDER16: No. It’s your turn now. Tell me something about you.
SIENNAM: Okay . . . let me see . . . when I was finishing grad school, I seriously considered working for an organization that helps entrepreneurs in third-world countries start businesses. I would have traveled to new places to assist for a few months at a time. It was my dream job.
ROUGHRIDER16: Why didn’t you do it?
SIENNAM: My best friend had gotten pregnant our senior year in college. The baby’s father stayed with her at first, but then he left—didn’t even tell her where he was going. She doesn’t have family close by. She needed help with her son, so I stayed.
ROUGHRIDER16: That’s admirable.
SIENNAM: Not really. I love her, and I love her son. He’s the boy I mentioned, who’s sick. I know if I would have been in that situation, she would have done the same for me.
ROUGHRIDER16: Have you ever thought about still doing that job someday?
SIENNAM: It would be hard now. I’m so involved in the day-to-day stuff at Alpha Mail. My goal is to open branches in two new cities within the next year, so then I’ll travel between the three for a while.
ROUGHRIDER16: Are you happy with your work?
SIENNAM: Very.
ROUGHRIDER16: Now give me something random from your childhood. . . .
SIENNAM: Okay, this one’s not as good without photographic evidence to support it, but when I was nine, I saw an actress on TV that I thought was really pretty, and I wanted to look like her. So I got some scissors and cut myself bangs, and since my mom wouldn’t let me wear makeup, I used a blue marker as eyeshadow on my eyelids and a pink one as blush. When my mom got home and saw me, she started crying. The bangs were really awful. We laugh about it now. And of course, my brother breaks out the photos as often as he can.
ROUGHRIDER16: That’s what brothers are for.
SIENNAM: I have a stash of photos of him with pimple cream and headgear, so there’s that.
ROUGHRIDER16: I can tell you love him.
SIENNAM: I do. Very much. Do you have siblings?
ROUGHRIDER16: I have a little sister.
SIENNAM: So I’ve been doing some thinking. . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: Yeah . . .
SIENNAM: About your Bob/John situation . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: Okay. Tell me more.
SIENNAM: You said you feel like you have to give the promotion to Bob because he’ll execute the job better.
ROUGHRIDER16: Unfortunately, yeah.
SIENNAM: Are you the boss at your job? The only one who gets to make this decision?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yes.
SIENNAM: I think you should give it to John.
ROUGHRIDER16: I can understand that, and it’s hard to explain, but . . . the results of the person in this position affect more than just him. Others won’t be able to succeed in their roles if we don’t have the best in the job Bob’s getting.
SIENNAM: Who is more senior at the company?
ROUGHRIDER16: John.
SIENNAM: I feel even more strongly that he should get the job, then.
ROUGHRIDER16: Why?
SIENNAM: You said he deserves it. He’s worked hard. He has more heart. And as the boss, you get to decide what to reward in employees. Don’t reward natural talent. Bob hasn’t earned that job.
SIENNAM: Hey, are you still here?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yes. I’m just thinking about what you said . . .
SIENNAM: Sleep on it. See what you think tomorrow.
ROUGHRIDER16: I will.
SIENNAM: I need to get to bed, but it was good to chat with you.
ROUGHRIDER16: It was. I like that you tell me what you really think, even if it’s not what you think I want to hear.
SIENNAM: Really? In that case, I think you’re obnoxious for not telling me who you are.
ROUGHRIDER16: Goodnight, Sienna.
SIENNAM: Goodnight.
#itskindacaveman
I’M ON MY second cup of coffee before nine the next morning. My mind is supposed to be on the office renovation plans the designer is going over with me, but instead, it’s turning over my conversation with RoughRider from last night.
He said he has a sister but didn’t mention a brother. If it was Ben, why wouldn’t he mention his brother? To throw me off?
His exact words were “I have a little sister,” which doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t also have a twin brother.
“Sienna?” Gretchen nudges me from her seat next to mine at the table in my office. “What do you think of that plan, to put the new logo on the floor in the lobby in stainless tile?”
“Oh.” I look down at the designer’s mock-up for the first time. “Looks great.”
“And the text bubbles from the billboard campaign that we want to paint on the lobby walls?”
Gretchen turns to the next page in the design portfolio, and I scan the brightly colored text bubbles and the alpha messages they contain:
G’night, Gorgeous . . .
Love that sexy smile . . .
UR Mine
“Wait, no.” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know about the ‘UR Mine’ one. It’s kinda caveman.”
Gretchen smiles. “Yeah, but women love it.”
I sip my coffee and mull. “Okay. You’re the marketing manager, and it’s up to you.”
“Great.” She gives me a triumphant smile.
“Do you guys need me for anything else?” I look at the two designers and then at Gretchen.
“No, we’ll get out of your hair now.”
Gretchen stands and leads the designers out of my office. She’s good at reading my cues, and I was telling her I’m over looking at color swatches and paint chips. I’ll let her handle those things.
I’ve got something else on my mind. It’s an idea that came to me on my drive to the office this morning. I keep going back and forth on whether I should do it, though.
In theory, it’s solid. Alpha Mail is technology-based. I have an IT team that works around the clock keeping our communications tech running smoothly. I invested in the top-of-the-line software and equipment they needed when I started the business. They can pinpoint anything I ask for—where my employees were when they sent a message to a client, what it said, what time the client read it, and even what sort of device they read it on.
If I want to know where RoughRider’s messages are being sent from, my tech people can have an answer for me by the end of today.
And I do want to know—badly. Who is this man I’ve been chatting with every day? Is the intrigue I feel for him because of his anonymity, or is there really something there?
But what I really want is for him to tell me himself. If I find out who he is through my tech team, then what? It’s n
ot like I can tell him I went behind his back and dug up his identity against his wishes.
Maybe I don’t want to know who he is. What if he doesn’t want me to know for good reason? He could be someone I can’t be with for whatever reason, and then the intrigue would end. The messages would stop.
My gut is telling me to wait. RoughRider and I are slowly getting to know each other, and I haven’t told him anything I’d be ashamed to have repeated. Every time I see a new message from him, I get a giddy sensation, and I don’t want to do anything to mess with that.
I start returning emails, and I’ve almost worked my way through all the new ones when an instant message pops up on the screen of my phone. And of course, I smile, pick up the phone, and let myself get lost in my mystery man.
ROUGHRIDER16: Good morning.
SIENNAM: Good morning to you too.
ROUGHRIDER16: How’s your day so far?
SIENNAM: No complaints. How about you?
ROUGHRIDER16: It’s a good day. I thought about our conversation last night when I was in the shower this morning, and you’re right. I’m giving the promotion to John.
SIENNAM: I’m glad to hear it. And you feel good about that decision, right?
ROUGHRIDER16: I do. I actually feel kind of shitty that I was going to give it to someone who doesn’t deserve it for the wrong reasons.
SIENNAM: Windshields are bigger than rearview mirrors for a reason, you know. Look forward, not back.
ROUGHRIDER16: Okay, boss.
SIENNAM: Can I ask you a question?
ROUGHRIDER16: Of course.
SIENNAM: Why do alphas say ‘You are mine?’ Like a woman needs to be constantly reminded or something? And like he owns her the same way he owns his car and his running shoes?
ROUGHRIDER16: Some guys say it because women like hearing it.
SIENNAM: Huh. Have you ever said it to a woman?
ROUGHRIDER16: No. I’m about actions rather than words, remember?
SIENNAM: So how do you show women they’re yours?
ROUGHRIDER16: By never taking them for granted. Sending flowers, holding her hand when we’re out, opening doors, remembering what’s going on with her and asking about it, making her a part of my life . . . a woman who feels taken care of never doubts whose man she is.
SIENNAM: Are you really an alpha?
ROUGHRIDER16: If you took one look at me, you’d know I am.
SIENNAM: Why? Are you big and imposing?
ROUGHRIDER16: You just know, trust me.
SIENNAM: So you never say things like, “You are mine”?
ROUGHRIDER16: I think you’re secretly one of those women who likes it.
SIENNAM: I am not.
ROUGHRIDER16: Not even in bed?
SIENNAM: Is that when you like to say it?
ROUGHRIDER 16: I don’t have a formula with women or anything. Like I said, it’s been a while since I had a relationship, and to be honest, I’ve never had a very serious one.
SIENNAM: Never?
ROUGHRIDER16: Nope.
SIENNAM: By choice?
ROUGHRIDER16: lol, yeah, by choice. It’s not that I can’t find anyone who’d want me.
SIENNAM: What do you think is the first impression women get of you? That you’re an alpha based on what they see, but what else? When they talk to you and start getting to know you?
ROUGHRIDER16: I think I come off quiet.
SIENNAM: But you aren’t actually quiet?
ROUGHRIDER16: I am sometimes.
SIENNAM: Are you quiet in bed?
ROUGHRIDER16: Well, aren’t you just full of questions today?
SIENNAM: You don’t have to answer . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: I’d love to answer, as long as you’ll reciprocate.
SIENNAM: I *always* reciprocate . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: Ugh, there you go getting me excited at work again . . .
SIENNAM: See that halo glowing above my head?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yeah, I see it all right . . . No, I’m not quiet in bed. If I’m ever guilty of being a stereotypical alpha, it’s during sex.
SIENNAM: Tell me you’re going to tell me more . . . ?!
ROUGHRIDER16: I’d never want to disappoint you . . . so more it is. I’ll never get to take you to bed, but if I could, that’s when you’d see a side of me no one else ever sees. A side that’s only for you. That’s when I’d tell you how crazy you drive me in those skirts you wear and how much it turns me on hearing you say my name. You’d see me turn from the gentleman who makes you feel cherished every second of the day into a beast ruled only by his raging desire for you. I wouldn’t leave an inch of you untouched or unsatisfied.
SIENNAM: Not gonna lie, I’m liking the sound of that a lot.
ROUGHRIDER16: Yeah? My independent, take-no-shit girl wants to be subordinate in the bedroom?
SIENNAM: Maybe . . . if it’s to you.
ROUGHRIDER16: Fuck. Bad convo to have at work.
SIENNAM: Yeah, I’m feeling flushed myself. Want me to change subjects?
ROUGHRIDER16: I’ll reluctantly say yes . . .
SIENNAM: Are you a commitment-phobe?
ROUGHRIDER16: No, I’d commit to the right woman.
SIENNAM: I think I might be a commitment-phobe.
ROUGHRIDER16: Why?
SIENNAM: The thought of a relationship unsettles me. I tried so many times, and every time, I was disappointed. It’s just really hard/impossible to find one person who does it for you in every way and have them feel the same in return. And then, things often fade in time.
ROUGHRIDER16: Not if you both work to not let it fade.
SIENNAM: I guess so. It just seems idealistic to me.
ROUGHRIDER16: When’s the last time you went on a date?
SIENNAM: It’s been a long time . . . close to a year. But I have one this weekend.
ROUGHRIDER16: Yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?
SIENNAM: Someone I met through work.
ROUGHRIDER16: Be careful.
SIENNAM: About what? It’s just a date?
ROUGHRIDER16: Just in general. Lots of guys aren’t gentlemen.
SIENNAM: Maybe you should take me out on a date, then . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: I wish I could.
SIENNAM: Why can’t you?
ROUGHRIDER16: I’m not avoiding, but I have to go. Work thing. Talk later?
SIENNAM: Okay.
#waitwhat
I’M EXCITED BUT not nervous about my date with Ben—until the moment he knocks on my door.
“You’re sure I look okay?” I ask Carmen, smoothing down the front of my sleeveless green dress for at least the twentieth time.
“You look gorgeous.” She gives me a reassuring smile, followed by a gentle shove toward the door. “Go open it.”
When I open the door, I see Ben in something other than a suit for the first time. He looks good in jeans and a black polo, a few strands of his dark hair hanging down over his forehead.
“You look great,” he says, his gaze sweeping down my body and back up again. “Ready to go?”
I nod and grab my bag, eager to get out of the house while Jack’s still in the kitchen eating a snack. I don’t want him getting any ideas about a man coming around here. The poor kid is starved for a man’s attention, probably because his father is a deadbeat who hasn’t seen him since he was two.
“How was your day?” Ben asks as we walk toward a sleek, dark sports car.
“Good. How about yours?”
He shrugs. “The usual. Gym and the office.”
I feel his eyes on me as he opens the car door, and I fight back the familiar stab of annoyance it gives me. This isn’t a guy just trying to get laid, it’s someone I have an emotional connection with through our emails.
Maybe.
I study Ben’s profile as he drives, trying to figure out how to prove or disprove my theory that he’s my RoughRider.
“So . . .” I smile nervously.
He grins and looks over. “I’m glad you sa
id yes to tonight. I’ve been wanting to go out with you since the first moment I saw you.”
“We redheads have some fire, you know. Think you can handle it?”
“I know how to extinguish fire.” He pats my knee.
I furrow my brow and look out the window. That comment was a far cry from RoughRider saying, “I love your fire. Never change.” Then again, maybe that was a sexual reference—like he knows how to satisfy me.
God, I hope so. It’s been a long time since any man has.
Our table at a trendy new restaurant called Trinity is secluded. We sit close together and share a bottle of white wine over dinner. Ben’s full of entertaining stories about his job and life as an identical twin. He’s also genuinely amused by my Alpha Mail stories.
“So I’m thinking dessert at my place,” he says as he’s signing the bill for dinner. “I got a white chocolate cheesecake I’m hoping you’ll like.”
I murmur a laugh, warm and buzzed from the alcohol and the flirting. “I’m sure I will.”
Ben’s hand starts out on my knee as he drives to his apartment, but it gradually moves higher. I really want to know if he’s RoughRider before we go any further, but I don’t want to spoil the moment. He’d tell me if he was ready, right?
So I stay quiet, enjoying the feel of his large, warm hand on my leg.
He leaves the car with the valet at his building, and I’m sure he’s going to swallow me whole the moment we’re on the elevator and no one else has gotten on, but he just eye-fucks me as we rise up to his floor. My heart races as I mentally undress him. The wine has me feeling very uninhibited.
His apartment is a penthouse with a lake view, though I can’t see it well since it’s nighttime. I’m gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows in his living room, trying to imagine the expansive water scenery, when Ben wraps his arms around me from behind.
“I want to show you my bedroom,” he says, his voice warm against my neck.
“Yes.”
I want him, and in this moment, I don’t even care if he’s RoughRider. It’s been so long since anyone has touched me this way—with affection and longing—and I don’t want it to stop.
He leads the way into his bedroom, furnished in a minimal, modern style.
“I can get a little intense,” he says softly as he bends down to kiss me.
“I’m good with intense,” I murmur as his lips meet mine.
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