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He moves up my body, kissing me hard, and I can taste my own juices on his lips. "Let’s get you dressed," Brian rumbles against my lips. "The meeting starts in five minutes."
He helps me put my clothes back on, but I’m still completely dazed, the feeling of satisfaction still humming through me.
This is going to be a hell of a team meeting.
6
BLAIR
I'm working late again.
But this time, it's not because I have extra work to do before that night's over. It's because of the email I received right before I was going to clock out. Not to my work email either but to my personal address. I read it, over and over again, and it chilled me to my core.
Right there on the screen in black and white is an email from an anonymous address that’s just a string of numbers.
I know what you've been up to, Blair Wright. I know that you were dating the heir of Beckett Industries, but when they didn't make you rich quickly, you moved to the CEO himself.
Are you fucking that old man, Blair? Is he buying you nice things? Designer bags?
It's time for you to quit. If you don't, I'll ruin your professional future by revealing all of this to the entire building. And then if you still don't quit, I'll leak it to the media, too.
I bet that won't go over well for Mr. Beckett.
Have a good night, Blair. Think it over
The implications were clear. If I didn't quit and get out quietly, by next week, this whole thing would blow up. Well, fuck that, I wasn't going to go down without a fight. If there was blackmail, it was time for me to fight back.
Except...I can't deny that I'm scared. Whoever has this information has to be somewhere close, and the idea of walking the short walk from the Uber to my apartment makes me feel sick. What if I'm attacked?
So I linger in the building much longer than necessary. Eventually, though, I know I have to leave. So I sign off, pull my hoodie on, and start for home, trembling and always looking over my shoulder.
Well, at least one good thing comes out of the email. I'm definitely too scared to think of the confrontation I'll have if Brian sees me leaving the building alone again.
Cradling my phone to my chest, I step out into the night. My ride still isn't here, and the app keeps crashing. Once the door closes behind me, I know I can't get back into the Beckett building, and it makes my stomach clench.
God, someone could come up behind me right now. I take a few steps onto the sidewalk, and I'm so afraid that I don't know what to do with myself.
Then, I see the figure across the street, dressed in all black, his face hidden by his hood. He raises a hand in my direction, and my knees turn to jelly.
Hands shaking, I open our work messaging app, hoping that someone might still be inside the building and could let me in. Of course, there's only one person online.
And of course, it's the man who lives in the penthouse. The CEO and owner of the company.
The man who ate me out on the conference table. Brian Beckett.
I have to call him. What choice do I have? The man across the street isn't moving, but he isn't leaving either. Maybe Brian can give me a ride home, but I'm so frightened and disturbed that I hope he'll bring me to his penthouse for a few minutes. At least for a glass of water.
Steeling myself, I click his contact and press the call button. He picks up after two rings.
"Blair, is something wrong?" Brian answers immediately, sounding strong and safe. Just hearing him relaxes me some as the night wind pulls at my hair.
"Mr. Beckett, it's kind of complicated. Listen, I'm still at the building. Could you come let me in? The Uber app crashed, and I'm locked out."
There's a long pause, and then Brian says, his tone deadly serious, "I'll be there in two minutes, baby. Is something going on?"
"I-I'll tell you when I see you," I say faintly, closing my eyes to keep from crying. This is overwhelming. "Thank you, Mr. Beckett. I'll be in front of the building."
"And Blair," Brian adds softly. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Brian? I think we're well acquainted by now."
