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.

Jesus Christ, I can't believe I'm asking permission to answer my own fucking cell phone.

"Yes."

I quickly snag it. "How's Paris?"

"Dreadful," my mom says. "I came back early because I was bored."

Biting my lip, I refrain from saying what I want. My mom and I grew up poor and she somehow snagged one of the richest men on the planet—well, at least my stepfather acts like he is—and ever since, my mother's taken the rags to riches concept to a whole new dramatic level.

"Did you meet any friends there?"

"Everyone's on holiday that I'd want to see. The weather was awful. It rained most of the time."

"How was fashion week?"

"Dreadful. The styles this season are atrocious."

Oh my god, I can't even. My mother used to buy her clothes at Wal-Mart and thought Macy's was for fancy people. Now look at her. Pretentious as fuck.

Ryker's hands slide between my thighs, and he spreads my legs. My body automatically melts against his chest, giving him easier access to the rest of me. Look, I don't know what's going on between us, but I'm not missing an opportunity to receive pleasure. I've been starved of it for most of my life and my time with him is finite. I'll take all I can, please and thank you.

"Maybe look at the new…" I suck in a harsh breath when he shoves a finger inside my pussy. "The new Dior line."

"Mmm." My mother sighs. "I'm tired of them too."

He plunges a second finger inside me. "Um. Well." I grind myself against his palm, seeking friction for my clit. He nips my earlobe with his teeth, the sensation sending a sharp jolt of lightning to my pussy.

"Want to meet for lunch, sweetie?"

"I c-…" oh my god, this feels so good. "I can't today. Let's stick with brunch on Sunday."

"About that. William wants us to have it at home."

My thighs slam shut immediately, and I pitch forward. "Why? What's happened?"

"I think he just misses us all being together."

Lies. We never do family things.

"Your father's been working himself to the bone lately."

"Step."

"Tara. Don't start. You know he hates it when you call him your stepfather."

But that's exactly what he is. "Okay. Then I'll see you two on Sunday."

"Garret's coming as well."

I should have known. "Great!" I fake my excitement. Ryker's still as a statue behind me, but I can feel his hard on against my ass. "Sorry, but I have to get going. My next meeting's about to start."

"Okay, sweetie, love y—"

I hang up immediately.

Shit. We only have family meals when someone's in trouble. I'm pretty sure that someone is me.

What am I going to do?