Tell Me You Want Me by Willow Winters
Adrian
It takes great effort not to let on that my pants are tight from my little vixen’s text messages. I’m certain Wyatt wouldn’t appreciate that fact.
With that being said, it’s my office. My meeting.
And if I want to read the filthy things she’s messaging, I’ll damn well do as I please.
I’ll have to scold her when I see her. Not now, while she’s working, when I’m not buried deep inside her and she has nowhere to go.
Scrolling through the last messages she sent, I have to readjust in my seat.
Suzette Parks has a very dirty mouth and I want to do very dirty things to it.
It’s work hours, though, so I don’t respond to the three she’s sent me.
This morning was one thing, and technically I started the “sexting games” as she called it.
No panties today. I want to fuck you without having to rip them off.
Yes, sir.
That’s my good girl.
You say that now but if you tell me to crawl under your desk, that will be a firm no from me.
Why do I think you’re lying?
I remember when I sent the last message, I watched both the clock and the security monitors that kept track of her entering the elevator. It was nearly 9:00 a.m.
Tell me what you would do then, if I wanted you to keep me company in my office.
Did I set her up? Fucking right I did. Am I going to fuck her hard and rough to punish her for the unprofessional behavior she’s displayed? Hell yes I am. And we’re both going to enjoy it.
It’s all talk from her. I know it is. So, scolding her will have to wait.
“I don’t know, man,” Wyatt says, nudging the container of lo mein closer to me. Piling the bit of it left on his plate onto a white plastic fork he tells me, “I prefer the place on Fifth.”
“Shing Kwong?”
He nods, still shoveling the Chinese food into his mouth. Wyatt is tall, lean, and three years younger than me although it feels like there’s a decade between us. He’s naive, positive about far too much and riskier than he should be.
I didn’t come from money. We were slightly well-off, but not like the Pattons, Wyatt’s family. It shows. He makes deals like there will always be a safety net beneath him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t resentful of it at one time in my life. As the end of a noodle slaps his chin, sauce dripping down his amber skin, the corners of my lips turn up.
Wyatt is a puppy dog in the elite groups I run in, but he’s damn loyal.
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’re welcome to bring your own takeout next time you decide to swing by then, rather than having Andrea order it.”
“So I’ll have that contract for you in just a little bit.”
My brow arches at the very sudden change in topics. “I knew you’d bring it up.”
He smirks, not looking back at me, and says, “I can’t help it; I’m excited.”
“I haven’t said I’ll sign, and I’m still waiting on my lawyer to look over the clauses.”
“It’s been a year in the making,” he comments, finally putting down his plate.
“I’m not sure it’s the right time right now.”
It’s silent for a moment and Wyatt finally looks up at me, running his hand over his curly, jet-black hair. It’s cropped close to his scalp with a slight fade on the sides. “’Cause of this,” he says and motions behind him with his thumb.
Because of the eight-figure company I just bought? Yes. That would be why. Although I’d never admit it out loud. My funds aren’t typically tied up in so many holdings. The timing was right for Holt & Hanover, though. He was desperate and I had the last bit of cash flow I could manage.
“You know I don’t go into these things lightly.”
One thick black brow raises as he leans back in the chair, pointing a finger at me. “You know this is a good deal.”
“It could be a good deal,” I respond, correcting him and before he can say any more, I tell him, “Let the lawyers talk out the details.”
“They’re minor,” he presses, his insecurity showing as he grips the armrest of the lounge chair. “The merge is going to be a hit and I know you want in on it.”
I mirror his posture, leaning back in my seat as I ball up my napkin and toss it onto my empty paper plate that’s stained from lunch. “A number of events need to go accordingly.” In this business, there are ebbs and flows. Some people can’t handle the wild swings. Some don’t prepare for the crashes.
“You sound like my father,” Wyatt quips.
I merely grunt, checking my phone again and see she hasn’t messaged any more. I’m tempted to send another text regardless. My thumb taps on the desk, my attention very much focused on the last line she sent an hour ago.
“Who is she?” he asks and I stare back at him blankly.
“Of all the—” Just as a grin stretches across his face, ready to lay into me, there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in.” I’m grateful for the interruption.
“Mr. Bradford,” Andrea says, stepping into the room. If it weren’t for the faint wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her mouth, she’d look two decades younger than she is.
“Andrea could look it over?” Wyatt suggests and then huffs a laugh.
“She looks over all my contracts,” I’m quick to tell him. She may only hold the title of secretary, and she looks the part, but Andrea Anderson is sharp and has a legal background that could rival the best. Times were different back then and instead of a firm, or the head of an academic department, Andrea left law altogether and I was lucky enough to meet her before someone else got ahold of her.
“Sir.” Andrea folds her hands in front of her pencil skirt. “Your one o’clock is seated in the conference room.”
All traces of humor are gone and dread seeps in.
“Thank you, Andrea.” As I stand, Wyatt watches me button my jacket and take a mint.
Everything feels stiff and uncomfortable.
The moment the door closes gently, Andrea disappearing behind it, Wyatt comments, “Uh-oh. I’m guessing someone is about to get a harsh scolding from their new CEO.”
I huff a humorless laugh, striding around him and tossing what’s left of lunch into the trash.
“Can you clean up on your way out?”
“Yeah, you all right?” he questions as I open the door and glance through at he conference room. There’s a reason there’s only one office up here and then that room.
I get a glimpse of some of the employees seated around a table, my hand still on the doorknob. My hand is clenched so tight, my knuckles have gone white.
“You going to fire someone?” Wyatt makes another guess and this time he’s right. I look over my shoulder to inform him, “An entire department. A very inefficient, very much unneeded department.” I feel sick to my stomach just saying it. Knowing how in a single meeting I’ll change their lives forever. But it’s the right decision. The company is bleeding money with these cookie-cutter executives. Their pay increased while tasks were delegated and as the company grew, their roles diminished as new employees took on tasks that came with new demands. A dozen men and women walked into this building today overlooking tasks they barely comprehend.
“Shit,” Wyatt says and he doesn’t hold back on the misery. “I know if you’re doing it, it must be done.” His large brown eyes look sympathetic.
“Tell that to them.”