From: [email protected]
Stop looking at me like that. Itâs been an agonizing week since the dressing room, and your lips are all Iâve thought about since. Bite them again when looking at me with those doe eyes and Iâll forget all about making you beg.
Arenât rules in place to be broken?
Beck
From: [email protected]
You need to stop looking at me like that. Iâm trying to do my job and take notes. Pay attention.
You pay me to work. Let me do my job.
Your assistant,
Margo
From: [email protected]
Itâs hard to pay attention when one of my most trusted advisors keeps stealing glances your way. If he looks at you again, Iâm going to make a scene and show him that if youâre going to be anyoneâs, youâre going to be mine.
Careful leading him on, Violet. Iâm a very jealous man.
Beck
From: [email protected]
Ezra will be picking you up tonight without me. Iâve got a meeting. Iâll still be home for dinner.
You should be waiting for me when I get home.
Beck
From: [email protected]
You looked too peaceful sleeping when I stopped by to wake you up. Ezra will pick you up whenever youâre ready for work. Grab yourself (and me) a coffee on your way in.
I wish we stayed up late last night for other reasons than work.
Beck
From: [email protected]
Iâm attaching the documents you asked for. Iâve also left a few comments for changes that I think may work better.
Margo
From: [email protected]
If I didnât know how talented of an artist you were, Iâd beg you to stay at Sintech forever. Iâve accepted your comments and sent them to the marketing team.
You continue to amaze me.
Beck
From: [email protected]
Winnie, Emma and I are doing matching costumes for Halloween this weekend. Would you want to join?
I think youâd look good in leather.
From: [email protected]
I canât think of anything Iâd rather do less than a coordinating costume.
Canât wait to see you in leather.
Beck
From: [email protected]
Iâm second guessing implementing casual Fridays per your request. Iâve never been turned on by a pair of jeans. I canât think straight with you in jeans. Itâs been almost a month since you turned me down.
Are you ready to beg yet?
Beck
From: [email protected]
If you take away casual Fridays I quit. Morale seems to be much higher since people get to dress comfortably on Fridays.
Youâre welcome for the suggestion.
Margo
PS⦠you bought the jeans. Iâm glad you love them.
From: [email protected]
Donât mistake my words. Iâd love to rip the jeans from your body. I actually despise the jeans. They remind me how much I fucking want you.
Why arenât you mine yet?
Beck
I jump when a loud tinging sound breaks me from the journey through my favorited emails in my inbox. It started off innocent. At first, I learned of the feature and favorited an email Beck sent me just so Iâd remember to complete the task. But then he kept sending me emails that sent my pulse into overdrive, and in a few weeksâ time I had a nice little collection of emails between the two of us that had me questioning why I just donât give into him already.
Itâs getting harder and harder to resist Beck. We live together, work together, and basically do everything together. Iâm not complaining about it. I actually love it more than I probably should. But because of all the time spent together, Iâm getting to know Beck for who he is.
And heâs nothing like his younger brother. They couldnât be more opposite if they tried.
Which makes my excuses for why Beck and I canât give into the sexual tension for us weaker and weaker.
Iâm getting attached to him no matter what, even if we havenât kissed again after that day in the dressing room over a month ago. Things havenât been completely innocent with us either. Looks have lingered at home and here at work. We both have come up with excuses to spend more and more time together. The only time we spend apart is if he has meetings that Iâm not needed for or when we both go to separate beds at night.
Iâm wondering how much longer I can last. His advances continue. Beck isnât shy about making it clear what he wantsâme. At least for the next year. And Iâm running out of reasons to deny him.
A flashing notification at the top corner of my desktop computer has pulled me from my imaginations of all the fun Beck and I could have if I wasnât so set in my ways.
I open the email, noticing itâs from Beck. My eyes flick to the glass window in front of me. From it, I can clearly see out into the conference room where he sits through a presentation from one of his heads of development. Except when I look at him, he isnât watching the presentation on the screen. Heâs staring right at me.
I instantly look away like Iâd been caught reaching into the cookie jar. Metaphorically, I guess you could call it me reaching into the cookie jar when I know Iâm not supposed to. The cookie jar in this instance is just Beckâs dirty, teasing emails.
My eyes track over his email, trying not to show too much of a reaction knowing he still might be watching me.
From: [email protected]
Should I be jealous? Youâve been staring at your computer monitor with a smile on your face for thirty minutes now. Now youâre crossing your legs. What are you looking at, Violet?
Focus on me.
Beck
My cheeks twitch as I fight a smile. An idea pops into my head. One that has no business being there, but one I canât resist. My focus stays pinned on the keyboard in front of me as I type out a response.
From: [email protected]
Make me.
Iâm busy feeling proud of myself, addicted to the thrill of the cat and mouse game Beck and I have going on when my office door is slammedâloudly. Looking up, I find an angry-eyed Beck staring at me.
âMiss Moretti.â He keeps his voice steady despite the deep, gravelly tone to it.
âYes, Mr. Sinclair?â
Beck looks over his shoulder, out the glass windows that everyone can see into it. It isnât hard to miss the curious eyes that are pretending not to watch the both of us in here. Itâs like being in a fishbowl. With the dangerous glint to Beckâs eyes right now, Iâm not sure Iâm thankful that all my coworkers can see in right now, or if I hate that they can.
âDo you think itâs cute to send emails that get my blood pumping damn well knowing I canât act on it.â
I sit back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other as I look up and down his towering form. Thereâs an angry set to his shoulders. His jaw is clenched so tight Iâm wondering if heâs grinding his teeth down in the process. âIâm afraid I donât know what youâre talking about.â
I run the top of my pen over my lip, knowing exactly where Iâm drawing his attention with the movement.
âMaybe I should bend you over this desk right now and punish you for punishing me.â
I stick the pen between my teeth, smiling around it at him. âIn front of all your employees?â My tongue clicks. âSomething tells me HR would think thatâs a very bad idea.â
His nostrils flare as he watches me closely. He takes his time answering me. Itâs like he can read my mind, knowing that his silenceâmixed with his menacing stareâis enough to make me squirm.
My stomach drops when he runs his thumb over his bottom lip before it turns up in a sinister smile. âGod, itâll be so good when I finally have you on your knees. Maybe Iâll punish you just as much as youâve punished me.â
Before I can respond, he straightens his back. He takes a step closer, his eyes flicking to my computer screen. I hastily try to close out of the tabs that show me re-reading all of our old messages. The smile that had my skin prickling with intense need has disappeared, his mask he uses for work back into place.
âTell me, how do you feel about Colorado?â
My eyebrows pinch together on my forehead in confusion. âExcuse me?â
He runs a finger down the edge of my desk. His touch dangerously close to my exposed knee.
âWeâve got a business trip to go on. Tomorrow.â
âTomorrow?â
His knuckles tap against my desk. âTomorrow,â he confirms.
And then he leaves me alone in my office, wondering how the hell Iâll survive traveling with him without finally giving in.