Page 504 of Most Eligible Billionaire CEO

Beckett: Don’t happy Monday me and don’t try to change the subject!

Arianne: What did I do?

Beckett: Your playing coy isn’t amusing.

Arianne: I’m just trying to understand why you’re so upset with me.

I roll my eyes.

Beckett: I gather you aren’t wearing a white skirt today?

Arianne: You gather correctly.

Beckett: What are you wearing?

Arianne: Clothes, obviously.

Beckett: Your cockiness is going to get you in trouble, Miss Buchanan.

Arianne: Maybe I’m looking for trouble, Mr. Christensen.

Well, hell.

My cock is in urgent need of relief. All thoughts of behaving fly right out the window.

Beckett: Get your ass to my office!

Arianne: Are you sure you don’t mean the intelligence room?

Beckett: Oh, you’re asking for it.

Arianne: We’ve already established that.

Beckett: Stop texting and start walking. Now!

I stand up, stuff her panties into the pocket of my pants, and remove my jacket. I’m so jacked up—and my cock is so hard—I can’t sit back down.

I pat the prize in my pocket, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.

I demanded her panties on Friday. She delivers them on Monday, and she has the gall to give me sass over it.

Who the hell does she think she is?

I pace the room as I await her arrival.

Minutes tick away.

Someone is defying me again by taking her sweet ass time to get over here.

There’s a knock at my door.

Finally.

I eat the floor and open it.

When I do, I freeze.

Who’s that girl?

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