by Nikki Chase
But now that I’m CEO? All of that shit is done for me. I sit and jerk off while other people do the hard work. I stare out of my penthouse office window while people come up and slap heavy folders on my desk. All they want from me is a signature.
Last week, we had the new InFini acquisition. I’d laid a lot of the groundwork for that deal before Dad had retired. I knew the ins and outs, the financials, everything. So when the final deal was placed before me, I started reading through it, checking it over, making sure that everything I worked towards had gotten into the final agreement.
The pencil pusher who brought it to me started shuffling, clearly uncomfortable.
I looked up at him, eyebrow cocked. “Something the matter, Welby?”
He gulped, and tugged at his collar. “Well, Sir, it’s just that the accountants want this contract ASAP so they can put the financial wheels in motion. They, uh . . . they specifically said that any delay is unacceptable.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. It was a struggle to get my anger in check. “Well, to be honest I don’t give a fuck what they said, Welby. I’m the CEO of this corporation, and I’m the one signing off on this fucking deal. So I’ll be reading every word of this before I sign a damn thing. The accountants are just going to have to wait. Tell them to come talk to me if they have a problem with that.”
The poor guy just nodded, looking miserable.
And of course, everything had been as it should. The deal was just as I’d worked it—an expensive acquisition in the hi-tech sector that would pay off handsomely in the future.
I eventually signed the damn thing, poor Welby looking grateful as he scurried off towards the finance department.
But it seemed so hollow, somehow. That was the last deal I personally had any hand in.
Now, I’m just there for my signature, and my looks. All I have to do is sign the documents, and sometimes talk to a camera.
So yeah, it’s fair to say this game is starting to lose it’s shine for me. I long for the old days.
Brock is sitting beside me, and I feel the sharp nudge of his elbow in my side.
“Wake the hell up,” he hisses. “Two o’clock, question about margins.”
I glance over blearily - the entire boardroom is staring at me expectantly.
Great.
“Mr Alder, it’s important that you are engaged in this process. We need to show the board and your competitors that you are serious about making these aggressive acquisitions. There is some concern that now your father is gone, the company may lose some of its focus.”
“I understand,” I say through gritted teeth. “The margins look healthy. There is some concern for the longer term, five or ten years, say, but we can fix those issues once we complete the deal. I’m confident we can make good on our investment.”
There are murmurs of assent, and most of the people present look placated. I fold my arms and sit back, letting my thoughts start to wander again. It’s ridiculous, really—we’re talking about a multi-billion dollar deal here, but all I can think about is Tessa.
I cast my mind back to that night in the desert. I’d felt alive for the first time in forever.
“How much have you had to drink?” I ask.
She looks over at me and grins with one raised eyebrow.
“Enough to shed my inhibitions, but not enough that you need to worry about taking advantage of me,” she replies, her voice low and husky.
I frown. “And why should I have to worry about that?”
“Because,” she says, grabbing my tie and pulling me close, “we’re about to drive out into the desert and do something naughty.”
The way she kisses me leaves no doubt whatsoever that she means what she says.
My eyes widen, and I try to think of something clever to say. My brain’s not working, though; all the blood is being used . . . elsewhere in my body. Somehow, I managed to croak, “Whatever you say.”
I put my Maserati in gear, pull off the road, and out across the desert sands. It’s probably doing my very expensive car no good, damaging the paintwork and the suspension, but I don’t care.
The roof is down, and Tess stands up and laughs at the moon, in that same carefree way of hers that I’ve already started to love.
She looks down at me with shining eyes, and then glances down at my crotch. I’m rock hard just from having kissed her and the anticipation of . . . doing other things to her.
Tess grins at me. “What’s this you’ve got here?”
She places a hand over my engorged cock and starts to rub me through my pants. I groan, leaning back in the seat a little, struggling to concentrate on where I’m driving as she massages me, leaning over and biting one of my nipples too. My eyes widen in shock—no girl has ever done that to me before, but holy fuck it feels good.
We swerve across the desert until I’m finally forced to stop. I just can’t take it any longer.
We’re in the absolute middle of nowhere, miles from the road. Our only company is the full moon and a few cacti.
Tess climbs out of the car and wanders around to the hood, pulling her dress off as she goes. I quickly follow, tugging down my pants.
She eyes me hungrily as I pick her up by her beautiful ass, then she wraps her legs around my waist. She’s only wearing her bra and panties, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Fuck me here, under the stars,” she whispers hoarsely in my ear.
I don’t need telling twice. I lower her onto the hood, still warm from the drive, and strip her last remaining clothes off in a frenzy.
She lays there naked, her legs spread, her pussy slick and gleaming in the moonlight. I yank off my boxers and kneel in front of her, starting at her beautiful pink nipples—nibbling, sucking, biting. She moans and arches her back, urging me on.
I kiss my way down her body. I’m trying to be gentle and tender, take it slow, but I need her so badly I just can’t. I devour her, my lips everywhere, her hands grabbing handfuls of my hair as she gasps and moans, telling me exactly how good it feels.
And then finally I reach her pussy. Her wet, eager slit. I slide my tongue down onto her most intimate place. Her clit is engorged with desire, and when I start to tease her with my tongue she comes alive, screaming her desire out into the night.
My cock jumps at the sound and I don’t think I can get more aroused, but then she writhes her delicious little body on the hood, arching her back and throwing her head back. She’s an irresistible temptress.
I press down on her with my tongue, and she cries out as I slip two fingers into her eager wet slit.
“I don’t want your fingers,” she gasps. “Give me that cock. I need it. Now.”
I stand, rock-hard and ready, but then she leans forward and takes my throbbing tip between her lips. I’m dying to bury myself balls deep inside her, but I’m not about to say anything to stop her. I grunt as she dips down, taking as much of me as she can, before coming up for air.
“Enough foreplay,” she says. “Fuck me.”
I grip the base of my cock and slide right into her. She’s so wet I glide in easily, her tight walls gripping me hard, pulling me in.
She shudders as I push fully inside—her eyes closed, her mouth open, tongue running across moist lips. The sight of her is almost enough to make me explode immediately, but I manage to get a hold of myself.
We fuck under the stars, and it’s the best, most passionate sex I’ve ever had. Our bodies dance to an ancient rhythm, melding together like we were always meant to do this.
The chill of the night air on my skin and the heat of her. It’s a delicious contrast. I lose myself in her, totally and utterly, until I feel her hands scrabbling at my chest, her breasts heaving.
“Don’t stop!” she cries. “Don’t stop, Luke!”
And as she cries my name, I feel the force of her climax, her slick pussy pulsing around my hard shaft. It pushes me over the edge, and I finish inside her with one final roar, spurting deep inside,
again and again and again until I’m spent.
After, when we’re dressed again and sitting in the car, she looks sleepy. The night is almost over, and I’m just hoping I can get her to come back to my suite with me—not even for more sex; I just want to spend more time with her. I’ve never been so intoxicated with someone.
As I consider my next move, Tess suddenly sits up, looking alert. “I know what we should do now,” she says with an impish grin. That grin piques my curiosity.
“Yeah?”
“Let’s go to the Chapel of Flowers. It’s where Dennis Rodman and Carmen Electra got married. Will you take me there?”
I start the ignition. “Okay.”
“We should get married there.”
I laugh, but she looks completely serious. I shrug. Why not? I’ve listened to every single other crazy idea she’s had tonight, and I’ve had the best night of my life. I haven’t felt this alive in . . . God knows how long. Why stop now?
I put the car into gear, and start driving back towards the distant lights of the strip.
Brock elbows me again, and I turn to him, pissed off now. There are other ways to get my attention.
But before I can start on him, I see the look on his face. He’s pale, like he’s seen a ghost. I follow his gaze toward the entrance to the boardroom, and . . .
Holy shit.
Standing there, looking nervous but just as gorgeous as I remember, is my wife.
Tessa
My first day and I’m running late.
Well done, Tess. Way to show your new boss exactly how unreliable you will be—during the probation period, no less.
I went to sleep early last night, I swear. I wanted to knock it out of the park today.
But then I woke up with the worst morning sickness. There’s nothing quite like puking your guts out before the first day of a new job.
I’d spent ages choosing my outfit, doing my hair, and choosing some tasteful but understated jewelry. I’d made sure everything was just right.
And then I’d damn near vomited all over myself. Story of my life.
By the time I got up from my knees and flushed, my legs were wobbly and I only had minutes to spare. So I just quickly brushed my teeth and left, still feel distinctly green around the gills.
Maybe at some point my luck will turn, but it looks like the universe still has it out for me right now. Maybe I was a murderer in my past life or something, because I don’t think in this life I’ve been anywhere near enough of a bitch to deserve this crap.
I just about make the train, squeezing on just as the doors are closing. It’s busy, and too hot. I spend most of the journey with my head crammed in some guy’s smelly armpit, wondering if anyone will believe me if I tell them I’m pregnant so I can attempt to have them give up their seat for me. I’m not brave enough to try - maybe when I’m actually showing.
As the train rattles along, I take a few deep breaths. I just need to get through this first couple weeks and get my first paycheck, so I can pay my lawyer and get this annulment ball rolling.
I wonder if Luke’s come to terms with the fact that I don’t want anything to do with him.
I was surprised at how he’d acted, the morning after. He really did seem like he wanted to meet with me. I would have thought that, big-shot rich guy like him, he would’ve been only too happy to move on and forget this thing ever happened.
I mean, he must have had dozens of one night stands. So why was he so earnest, making those wisecracks and trying to get me to talk things over with him?
The train announcer breaks through my self-absorption, and I look up at the station name.
“Oh, shit.”
I’ve missed my goddamn stop, and all because I was thinking about my “husband.” As if this morning couldn’t get any worse.
I dash off the train at the next station and run out onto the street a sweaty, gasping mess. I hail a cab.
“The InFini building,” I say to the driver as I hop inside. “And step on it.”
I don’t have the money for this cab and for food tonight—it’s one or the other. But I’m already late, and I can’t risk making it worse. I’ll dig out some ramen from the back of the cupboard or something, live college-style for a bit.
The cab screeches to a halt outside the huge, glass-fronted monstrosity that is my new workplace, and I reluctantly hand over my last, crumpled five-dollar bill.
Stepping out of the cab, I crane my neck and look up. This place is the tallest building in the city by far, and I’ll admit I’m intimidated. I’m just going to be a tiny cog in a huge machine in a place like this, and it’s going to take some adjustment.
Whatever, right? I’ll be a well-paid cog, at least.
I check myself over one final time. I’m sweaty, disheveled, my hair is a mess, and I may or may not smell like vomit.
“You’re killing it, Tess,” I murmur, taking one last deep breath and pushing open the doors. The receptionist sitting behind her huge desk looks up as I enter.
“I’m Tessa Elliot, I’m starting today. Personal assistant. Could you tell me where I need to go?”
She smiles sweetly. If she’s noticed that I’m late, she doesn’t mention it. She taps away on her computer for a few seconds, then looks up at me. “Ah, the new PA. Forty-fourth floor. Mr. Garamond, your manager, is expecting you. The elevator is just over there.”
I thank her and half-run over to the elevator. It takes eons to come all the way down from wherever it is, and I tap my foot impatiently. My stomach is doing flips. I just hope this Mr. Garamond is feeling kind this morning.
I step onto the elevator, press forty-four, and wait as it glides upwards.
I step out into a huge open-plan office. People sit at their desks, studiously working, mostly in silence. I have absolutely no idea where I’m going to find my boss amongst these hundreds of people. I’m working up the courage to ask someone when . . .
“Tessa Elliot? You’re late.” A man shoves a notepad into my hands, along with a pen. He’s middle-aged, slightly overweight, wearing an expensive suit and glasses.
I just nod, feeling sick all over again.
“You’re supposed to be up in the boardroom, taking the minutes of the new acquisition.” He raises his eyebrows as he pushes the bridge of his glasses up his nose. “Normally I wouldn’t throw you in at the deep end right away, but Jenna has called in sick so it falls to you. They’ve already started up there, so I need you to go up right away. You know how to take minutes, right?”
The boardroom? On my first day? Oh hell, I am so not ready for this.
“Sure thing,” I say, sounding much calmer than I feel. If I can handle this, he might forget that I was late on my first day. “I can do that. Which floor is the boardroom on?”
“The top one,” he replies. “Now, quick, run along.”
So it’s back into the elevator for another long trip upwards. I try not to hyperventilate. I know how to take minutes—all I need to do is sit quietly at the back of the room and write down what they say. Easy.
I step off the elevator and wander down a long corridor, until I finally see a door with the gold-embossed word ‘Boardroom’ on it. I knock quietly, my heart pounding, and enter the room.
I open my mouth, an apology poised at the tip of my tongue, and then I see him.
Luke Alder.
My husband.
Sitting at the head of the table.
He’s seen me too, and he looks about as shocked as I am.
No. Freaking. Way.
This can’t be real.
He must be a figment of my imagination.
I blink, trying to clear my head, but he doesn’t disappear. He’s still there, looking just as chiseled and handsome as I remember, dressed in a very fetching—and expensive, no doubt—suit.
I catch my breath.
He’s the reason I’m late. He’s the reason I feel like crap with morning sickness. He’s the reason my life is an unfathomable mess. And he’s here
.
I realize everyone is still staring at me. The meeting has completely stopped while I stand there gaping at Luke. I clear my throat, my face burning.
“Sorry for interrupting,” I croak. “Jenna is sick today, so I’ll be taking the minutes of the meeting. Please, continue.”
I find a seat at the back of the room, feeling the heat of Luke’s gaze on me as I walk across the room, trying desperately not to meet his eye.
I’ll deal with . . . that, later.
For now, I need to focus on the job at hand.
The meeting continues. It seems to be lawyers, discussing the finer details of some sort of merger or something like that. It’s all stiff, legal language that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. But because it’s so impersonal and formal, it’s relatively easy to follow. I scribble down what they’re saying in shorthand. I’ll write it up properly afterwards.
I soon settle into a rhythm. They appear to be working their way down through a list and I sort of zone out, my hand scribbling away while my mind wanders.
“...an initial capital transfer of five hundred million dollars....”
Should I tell him about the baby? Doesn’t he deserve to know?
“...to ensure a smooth transition, I will ask that InFini executives….”
No. Not yet. I need to get this annulment dealt with as my first priority. Once that’s done, I can focus on other things.
“...important that we reassure investors in both companies to avoid a selloff…”
Besides, I’ve had a miscarriage before, and there’s every chance it might happen again. I don’t want to say anything to him until I’m totally sure. There’s no point bringing it up now and making things even more complicated.
“And that concludes the legal details. If everyone is in agreement, and if Mr. Alder is ready, we can complete this deal now.”
Everyone, including me, turns to face Luke. He glances at me, then around the table.