Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Good as new. Somehow, you still look perfectly normal. I guess I didn’t rough you up enough this time.”
This time.
“So…” Ember said, hesitating with a hand on the door. “Does this mean you’re not going to send me your nightly emails anymore?”
“That will depend.”
“On?”
“Whether I need to know you’re finger fucking yourself on a particular night. And now I imagine I’ll have the option to take the real thing if I choose.”
“Did you just call me a thing?” she asked, grinning halfway.
“You know what I meant.”
“That you’re planning to distract me with nightly booty calls instead of simple, civilized requests to masturbate?”
I cleared my throat. “Those aren’t the words I would choose. But… essentially. Yes.”
“Alright,” she said easily. She reached up and gave my tie a quick series of tugs and pulls, presumably to straighten it. She ran her palms down my lapels, and then…
She cupped my cock through my slacks, gave it a squeeze, and bit her lip as she looked up at me. “So I’ll meet you in your office, then?”
“Not necessary,” I said.
“You are terrible with Davenport on your own. You need me in there.”
“Fine. But I’m not agreeing to that because of what we just did. I’m only agreeing because it makes sense.”
Ember rolled her eyes. “I get it, Orion. We’re just playing around, and you’re not going to give me special treats at work. We already established that, so relax.”
I nodded and tried not to read into the look on her face. It was a look that said she understood the score, but maybe she was having her own doubts about it after the last few minutes.
I wished I could say she was alone in that.
“See you in my office,” I said, pushing open the door and rushing out of the small closet.
33
EMBER
Iwalked into Orion's office on shaky legs, feeling like I had "I just had mindblowing sex in a closet" tattooed across my forehead in neon letters. My body was still humming with pleasure and unfulfilled need—I could feel the wetness between my legs with every step. I had stopped by the bathroom to clean up before coming to Orion’s office, and I found Orion and Davenport were already speaking when I arrived.
Davenport sat in one of the leather chairs across from Orion's desk, looking completely at ease. He smiled warmly when he saw me.
"Miss Hartwell! Excellent timing. I was just telling Mr. Foster here that I had an interesting conversation with that other young man earlier today—Cole Northman. He’s extremely eager to get my business, it seems.”
My stomach dropped. I forced what I hoped was a neutral expression. "Oh?"
"Quite the sales pitch." Davenport's eyes twinkled. "Very polished. Very... rehearsed."
Orion settled behind his desk, his face unreadable. Only I could see the slight tremor in his hands as he straightened his tie—the same tie I'd been gripping minutes ago.
"Mr. Davenport," Orion began, "I’m sure Cole Northman would love to earn your business. So would we. Maybe you can tell us what you need us to do and we can start there?”
"All this simpering and begging has me thinking,” Davenport said, ignoring Orion’s words as he leaned forward. "All these meetings, all these presentations... It all reeks of team meetings and calculated manipulation, don’t you think?”
“Manipulation?” Orion began. “I would hardly—”
“No, you would hardly call it that,” Davenport agreed. “That would be too honest. And the way you big shots orchestrate these meetings and client acquisitions is hardly honest, is it? So let’s try something new. I’d like to hear you tell me exactly why you want my business. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me truthfully, and keep in mind my bullshit detector is world-class.”
I perched on the edge of a chair, hyper-aware of Orion's presence. The memory of his fingers inside me was so fresh I could barely focus on Davenport's words.
Orion's jaw tightened. He stared at Davenport for several long, uncomfortable seconds, and then he finally folded his hands in front of himself on the desk and leaned in. “I want you as a client because I want Foster Real Estate to be the biggest company in Manhattan. Successfully renovating your factories is a step in that direction. You care about the legacy of your factories and the lives they touched, right? Well, I’m still creating my legacy. Making a masterpiece of this project is part of cementing that legacy. My own self-interest is exactly why you can trust me, Mr. Davenport.”
“Legacy,” Davenport whispered as he softly brought his fist down on Orion’s desk. “Yes. Now you’re finally speaking a common language, young man. Why do you care about building a legacy? Why does it matter if your company is the biggest?”
Orion sat back slightly, eyebrows drawn in deep thought. “My father died when I was a boy. All my memories of him were watching him struggle to provide for us. If… he’s still watching, in some capacity, I want him to be able to rest. I want to show him the people he cares about are provided for—that his passing didn’t doom us.”