Black Ties and White Lies(54)

Fuck this business trip.

Fuck the snow storm.

And fuck how badly I want to bury myself inside her and fuck all the anger right out of her.

I rip my tie from my body, throwing it to my feet. I’m angrily shoving my pants down my thighs when I hear her voice from right behind me.

She must be a fucking ninja, because I didn’t hear her turn off the shower or leave the bathroom. I must’ve been too busy lingering in the anger of being stuck in this situation to hear her at all.

“Why are you so mad at me?” she asks from my back.

I work at the buttons of my shirt, not daring to face her. I don’t know if she’s covered her body more or not, but my restraint is paper thin right now. If I see her in that set of lingerie again, I might just lose control and rip it from that perfect fucking body of hers.

“I’m done talking.” My words are short, leaving nothing up for interruption. I truly don’t want to talk right now. I’d much rather put our mouths to better use, but I can’t exactly say that out loud. Or I could, but it wouldn’t do anything but prove to me that deep down she wants me, but she won’t let it happen.

“Well, I’m not,” she snaps, looping around me to stand in front of me. At least she’s wrapped a white towel around her body, shielding her flawless body from my view.

I catch her looking me up and down. I’d intended to be fully dressed in the god-awful pajama set I’d found in the gift shop by the time she stepped out of the shower, but yet again, she couldn’t just fucking listen to me.

My shirt hangs open, giving her a view of the muscles I work hard to maintain. Her eyes catch on my navy blue boxers, further fueling the already hard on I had by seeing her in lingerie.

“Do you ever do as you're told?” I sigh, putting my hands on my hips.

She hugs the fabric of her towel closer to her. “Sometimes. Tell me why you’re mad at me, and I may actually listen to you.”

"You don’t want to know why I’m mad.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I do or don’t want.”

“If you ask me again, I’m going to tell you, and I promise you don’t really want to know.”

“Tell me why you’re mad.”

There’s no hint of reservation in her eyes, only pure defiance. There are so many things I’d do to her to wipe the smug look from her face.

I pull my arms from the sleeves of the dress shirt, throwing it onto the bed next to us. “I’m livid because I’m stuck in this fucking hotel room with you, and the only thing on my mind is how bad I want you. I’m fucking desperate to kiss you, taste you, fuck you. I want to spend the entire night finding new ways to keep that perfect body of yours warm. You want to know why I’m pissed? Because I know deep down you want all of those things too, you’re just too stubborn—too god damn afraid—to let it happen. And for once in my god damn life, I want something—need something—I can’t fucking have. So there you have it. I’m livid because I want to fucking make you mine, and you won’t let me because my brother was a dick to you and you’re not over it.”

She stares at me wide-eyed, blinking over and over. My chest heaves up and down. My throat is hoarse from shouting the words at her, needing to get them off my chest. There’s no going back now. She knows how I feel. I’ve told her how bad I fucking need her, and now I need to prepare myself for whatever excuse she’s going to give why we can’t just give in.

Except she doesn’t do it. In fact, it isn’t what she says…it’s what she does.

The towel drops to the ground.

The lingerie is long gone.

Margo is naked in front of me. Her fingers play with her nipples when she looks me in the eye. “Is this the point where I beg?”





I’m completely and utterly fucked. Metaphorically.

Physically? I hope to be by the end of all this.

Beck’s tongue peeks out to wet his lips, and I applaud myself for how long I fought the undeniable chemistry between us.

I gave denying him a good try. I stuck to my guns for longer than I’d expected to. But at the end of the day, I’m tired of having wet dreams about my boss. My future fake fiancé. My ex’s older brother. I’m ready for him to make good on every dirty threat he’s ever made.

I’m ready for Beckham Sinclair to fuck me. I want to know what it feels like for him to bury himself inside me. I’m desperate to feel all of him, to know nothing but him filling me as deep as I can take him.

His thumb runs over the spot he just licked. I’d half expected him to fly across the room and have me bent over already once he saw me naked. At the very least, I’d expected him to kiss me.

The growing erection in his boxers is proof of how bad he wants me, he’s just not acting on it yet.

A low growl erupts from deep in his chest. “I meant every fucking word when I told you you’d have to beg for me to fuck you.”

“Tell me how to beg and I’ll do it,” I answer immediately.

He smirks in appreciation, running his palm over his cock. “Oh I will, don’t worry about that.” He takes a step closer to me.

Out of habit, I cover the intimate parts of me with my hands. It’s not that I don’t want this. I had time to think about it in the shower. I’d stripped out of my clothes in there and left fully knowing what I wanted. It’s what I’ve wanted from his first threat in my old office.