Page 57 of Ryker

“One hour.” She holds up a manicured forefinger. “One hour a day, we both get actual work done.”

Looking at the piles of folders on her desk, I’m sure Tara can’t afford to take an entire month off like she’s supposed to. To deny her this request would make me a hypocrite because I can’t afford it either. “Fine. But it happens in my office. You can’t have work in the suite.”

Tara’s smile lights up the room. “Deal.”

She thinks she’s won this negotiation, but I’m the one who’s making out. If I watch her work, there’s a good chance I’ll be able to figure out who that motherfucker was who attacked her, and I’ll go after him once she’s asleep.

Chapter 20

Tara

Time holds little weight in the walls of the Monarch and it’s easy to forget there’s an entire world outside. It’s been a whirlwind of orgasms, sleeping, eating, and now checking our emails in Ryker’s office together.

This victory feels weird.

I can’t tell if I’ve made Mr. Hudson rethink how our next three weeks can work amicably or if I’ve just made him more frustrated. He doesn’t like me. That hate fuck in my bedroom yesterday was proof. But Mr. Hudson is a man of his word, and this is a solution that can benefit us both.

I get a safe space to figure out how to get what I want, in and out of the bedroom, as well as keep my motherfucking job.

And he gets to keep his beautiful club running smoothly while enjoying easy pussy that’s at his beck and call.

He’s a liar if he says he doesn’t want me. And Ryker doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would fuck just anyone—even out of obligation. At the very least, he wouldn’t enjoy it. Mark my words, Ryker loved hate-fucking me.

And I loved every second of it, too.

The way he overpowered me was intoxicating. Seeing him turn into an aggressive, greedy animal, chasing his release. The man was relentless and savage and borderline monstrous. It was fucking amazing.

My foolish heart almost wishes there was a deeper reason for his actions, but I know better. He thinks I’m a princess who gets what she wants, when she wants it. I’ve already put him between a rock and a hard place by using that building as leverage, which would only solidify his suspicions of what kind of ruthless piece of shit he thinks I am.

The real truth is I’m a stepchild who had to claw my way up to reach the same level of respect everyone else gets for just existing. I work hard to stay in my stepfather’s good graces so my mother doesn’t have to choose between us, and I will work myself to the ground on her behalf, and my stepbrother’s, and everyone else who’s on my ass all the time about doing what’s best for the company.

But I hate it.

“I’m sorry,” Ryker says into his cell as runs his thumb lazily along my inner thigh. “But seven doesn’t work for me tonight.”

One caveat of getting work done is he insists it be in his office. Together. With me in his lap. Trust me, I’m not complaining. I’m still shocked he said yes to me. But ever since we came back here yesterday, he’s stuck to me like glue. It’s like he’s done a complete one-eighty in attitude. No matter how badly I want to ask why, I won’t.

“No. This entire month is booked solid.”

I lean back against his chest to whisper in his ear. “If you need to leave, you can.”

He doesn’t need my permission. But I enjoy giving it, anyway.

Ryker’s eyes cast down to mine. “Hold on a minute.” Muting his cell, his brows dig down. “Are you sure? I won’t be long.”

“It’s fine. I’ll likely need to meet my mother for brunch Sunday, so…”

Tit for tat.

Wow, this is weird.

Ryker’s jaw clenches. After his gaze lingers a little longer on me, and I suspect he wants to object, he hits the mute button on his cell again and responds to whoever is on the other end of the line. “I can do nine o’clock tonight.” He keeps staring at me. “Two of us will be there.” He swallows and I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “No, not Dmitri. Someone else. See you then.” He hangs up and leans back with a sigh.

Instead of prying, I lean forward to concentrate on my emails. Ryker’s hands slide across my belly until he’s wrapped his arms around my waist. I furiously type my email and smash the send button. Then my cell goes off.

He’s allowed me to have that back as well. But only if it stays, with my laptop, and my files, in his office.

“May I… Sir?” I look over my shoulder at him.

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