Page 100 of Wicked Fantasies

“What the hell are we going to do? We have to make a presentation to the Wedded Bliss people in two days. Brian will shit a brick if we tell him we don’t have anything.”

Reed turned slowly and looked out his office window at the hustle and bustle of the street below. While he knew he should be worried about the client, he couldn’t summon the energy. His mind was too fixated on Frankie’s earlier comments. She was hurting just like he was.

Then, it came to him.

“We’ll work together.”

She stood before his desk, and through her reflected image in the glass he could see he’d gotten her attention.

He turned to look at her, a wickedly wonderful idea forming in his mind. “We’ll put the Wedded Bliss presentation together as a team. We’ll start now. Order in food for the next two days. Take turns sleeping on my couch. It’s the only way.”

She nodded, clearly understanding exactly how far behind they were. “Okay. That’s a good plan. Surely between the two of us, we can?—”

“If we land the bid, we share the wager.”

She shook her head. “No. No more wagers.”

“The game’s not over, Frankie. You shook on the deal.” He was a bastard to push this, but he couldn’t let her go yet. He just couldn’t.

“We shook on a competition. We’re collaborating now.”

“We’re still competing. Only this time, it won’t be against each other, but against The Wilkerson Team and three other firms. The competition is stiff on this one. The wager stands.”

“Stands how?”

He could see she was equal parts distrustful and intrigued. Though she’d given him a brief glimpse at the vulnerable woman inside, he could tell she’d tucked her away once more. Sexy, self-assured Frankie was making a comeback. “We share the fantasy. Name one fantasy—anything you want—and I’ll give it to you.”

“A threesome.”

Her quick answer sent his brain into a tailspin, and he studied her face to see if her response was the truth or merely a way to pick at him. As always, she gave him nothing. “So should I round up another man or another woman?”

She smiled. “I don’t share with other women.”

“But I’m supposed to share you with another guy?”

She shrugged. “Why not? I don’t belong to you.”

He wanted to refute that fact, but there was nothing he could say that she would listen to and suddenly he understood her request. She thought by pushing him into a ménage, she’d be able to keep the wall between them high, impenetrable. “Fine.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine?”

“I’ll find another man to join us in this next fantasy.”

She raised her hand. “This last fantasy. After this, no more games.”

He readily agreed. It was time he stopped fucking around, stopped pretending. The moment their last fantasy was realized, he was going to turn his attention to seriously wooing Ms. Frankie Carlyle. She wouldn’t know what hit her. The idea actually made him smile. “No more games.”

“Fine, then I suggest we get started on the campaign or our wager won’t?—”

“Don’t you want to know what my fantasy will be if we win?”

She took in a sharp breath, and he could see she’d forgotten that detail. “Sure.” She dragged out the word, proving she really didn’t want to know at all.

“Exhibitionism.”

“I don’t understand.”

He walked around the desk, watched as she fought to hold her ground. She was definitely going to take him on a merry chase. He couldn’t wait to begin. “There’s going to be an audience the next time we have sex.”

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