Page 34 of Dirty Little Secrets
“Ms. Summers. I see you've brushed up on your time management skills.”
I’ve brushed up on a lot more than that. “Good morning,” I say, schooling my expression into something neutral.
“I need to know when my morning team meeting starts.”
I slide into my chair, power up my computer, and scan the calendar. It’s in an hour. In the Conference room on his floor. Full team. Including Landon.
I send it to him via email and the familiar ping from his desktop reaches me.
“You do have two legs, Ms. Summers. If I wanted a reminder notification, I’d set one myself.”
How can one man be so goddamn attractive and still act like an infuriating control freak? It’s jarring—the contrast between this version of Xaiden and the one who had me trembling the night before.
I push back from my desk, grab my coffee, and walk into his office wearing one of the new outfits he purchased in Las Vegas. Bash dropped me off at a boutique; Xaiden handled the bill. Ten outfits, shoes, plus lingerie.
At the time, I didn’t know he was my match on Obsidian. If I had, I might’ve chosen something darker, sexier. Not that I’m complaining. The garter set beneath this dress makes me feel like I’m in control of what I want.
“You didn’t spill coffee on your blouse this time.”
I sink into the chair across from his desk. “I kind of like this one.”
He smiles and it almost makes me spill the damn coffee. His teeth are perfect. Straight. Bright. Sinful. Last night, I was too busy riding him to notice the details.
“You seem to be in a better mood,” I say, crossing my legs. His eyes flicker—just for a second. “How was your weekend?”
His onyx-colored eyes hold mine. My pulse jumps. There’s no flicker of recognition. But I know he’s thinking about it. Just like I am.
“It was… exactly what I needed.”
“Good,” I murmur.
But it was different than anything I’ve read in Forbes. Yes, he made the cover. “Tech Billionaire Refuses to Sell Company.” But no article prepared me for the version of him behind closed doors. The man who devours with words. The man who breaks you and licks the pieces clean.
I kept scrolling all the public pages since I have no social media of my own. I was raised in a place where public libraries were the only computer access. I learned code like a second language, quietly. Not because someone gave me opportunity, but because I hacked a network and found I was good at it.
Xaiden Drazen didn’t keep his birth name. It says his mother and father are Mexican. His mother id deceased but there is no mention on how she died. No information on his father. He built his own empire. Drazen isn’t just a surname, it’s a brand. And his mouth? Definitely not made for boardrooms.
“The meeting,” he says. “Will there be a problem?”
“Why would there be?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
He means Landon. He could show up shirtless with an apology card stapled to his chest and I wouldn’t flinch.
His gaze sharpens. “You have history.”
“None I care to remember.”
Xaiden raises an eyebrow. “Let’s hope he feels the same.”
“If he doesn’t… that’s his problem.”
When I push the refreshment cart inside the double wide doors inside the boardroom, glass greets me in front of the New York skyline. The sky is overcast promising rain.
I set the refreshments out in the center of the boardroom table as men in suits file in.
I first notice Mike from programming and then Steven. I heard enough about him from Kristina and the promises he didn’t keep. Mike, I heard from Kristina was the closest to Mr. Drazen from all the men that worked on this floor.
Then, Xaiden walks inside like an emperor about to take the throne. He takes his seat, his black suit jacket stretched to its limit from his muscled biceps. The parts I was able to familiarize myself with last night was nearly not enough. I want more and ache for a repeat.
