“Hey, you need me for something?”
Yes. God, yes. I need him for all the things I just heard him talking about. He may not have been into it, but I sure as hell was. Am I just undersexed, or is Dane as hot as I’m thinking he is right now?
“Uh . . . no. I just overheard you and wanted to say, you know, great job.”
“Heh.” He reaches a hand around the back of his neck. “Thanks.”
“So . . . you’re happy here, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, I’m good, why?”
“I just want you to be happy so you’ll stay. You’re good at this job.”
“I’m planning on staying till I finish school.”
“Okay, good.”
“Hey, thanks for replacing the coffeemaker.”
Sure thing. Thanks for almost getting me off as I walked past your office.
I wave a hand, dismissing his thanks. “No problem.”
“Did you need anything else?” He gives me an impatient look. “I’ve got another client.”
Ah, there’s the brooding grouch I’m used to.
“Nope, just . . . carry on.”
I turn to find Gretchen, but she’s gone. I’m okay with that. Right now, I just want to be alone in my office so I can think about what I just overheard.
I can’t wait for my IM date with RoughRider tonight. I hope I can talk him into a phone call. Hearing Dane talking to that client made me realize that while I really like reading RoughRider’s words, him saying them to me would be even better. And if that voice happens to be Dane’s . . . well, I wouldn’t be disappointed. Company policy be damned.
#IMhorny
ROUGHRIDER16: Hey, how are you?
SIENNAM: Not bad. You?
ROUGHRIDER16: I have the attention of a beautiful woman. Never been better.
SIENNAM: Do you like coffee?
ROUGHRIDER16: No. I mostly drink water. Why?
SIENNAM: Just curious.
ROUGHRIDER16: You know what I do like?
SIENNAM: ???
ROUGHRIDER16: The thought of silencing that sharp tongue of yours with a kiss.
SIENNAM: Sharp, hmm?
ROUGHRIDER16: Don’t worry, I know it’s mostly just your sexual frustration talking when you’re salty.
SIENNAM: Hang on . . .
SIENNAM: Sorry, just another sec . . .
SIENNAM: Okay, I’m back. I was laughing really hard there for a minute. What the hell would you know about my sexual frustration?
ROUGHRIDER16: I know I could turn that roar of yours into a purr.
SIENNAM: Do tell, O Rough one . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: I’d start with a massage. Slowly and sensually caressing every inch of you, but not the places you really want me to touch. I’d just suffer the sounds of your moans and the arch of your back as you silently begged me for more.
SIENNAM: That does sound like a strong start . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: Then I’d repeat the process with my mouth.
SIENNAM: You would.
SIENNAM: I mean . . . you would? *cringe of embarrassment*
ROUGHRIDER16: *grin*
ROUGHRIDER16: Never be embarrassed around me.
SIENNAM: What would you do next?
ROUGHRIDER16: Kiss you. Hard and fast. Slow and soft. I’d kiss you until your lips were tingling and your chest was rising and falling as you panted my name.
SIENNAM: I’d kiss you back. I’d wind my hair into your hair, close my eyes and just inhale you. Even if I couldn’t see you, just knowing what you feel and sound and taste like would be . . . more. It would be everything, really. The whole world knows what you look like.
ROUGHRIDER16: Wow. I’m very turned on right now.
SIENNAM: Me too.
ROUGHRIDER16: Was your first time having sex a good experience?
SIENNAM: I think it was better than most. It was with a high school boyfriend. We were both 17. He was patient and gentle. What about you?
ROUGHRIDER16: Well, I’m a guy. I think our first time is always a good experience.
SIENNAM: Why don’t I get any details?
ROUGHRIDER16: I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I was 16, she was 18. She lived in my neighborhood.
SIENNAM: Was she a virgin, too?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yeah.
SIENNAM: Was it a one-time only thing?
ROUGHRIDER16: No, it was a few times.
SIENNAM: You must’ve been good.
ROUGHRIDER16: Back then, who knows. I hope I was.
SIENNAM: But now you know you’re good?
ROUGHRIDER16: I’ve gotten excellent feedback.
SIENNAM: But were they telling the truth?
ROUGHRIDER16: I assume so. But I can feel it when a woman comes, so I’d know if they were lying.
SIENNAM: What sorcery is this?
ROUGHRIDER16: A man just has to pay attention. If he’s not completely focused on his own dick, it’s pretty obvious . . .
SIENNAM: How so?
ROUGHRIDER16: You really want to know all this?
SIENNAM: I really do. Whisper your pussy expertise.
ROUGHRIDER16: Well, if I was inside you, here’s how I’d know you were coming . . . you’d clench around me really tight and I’d feel you start to spasm. It would take all my self-control to hold on and not let that squeezing sensation milk me dry.
SIENNAM: Um . . . that sounds nice. You can feel that?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yep.
SIENNAM: What turns you on?
ROUGHRIDER16: Right now? Thoughts of you. What your hair would feel like on my chest, how your nipples taste, what you wear to bed, that kind of thing. What about you?
SIENNAM: Well . . . this.
ROUGHRIDER16: You like dirty talk?
SIENNAM: Sometimes. Most men aren’t very good at it. They just repeat the same two or three things over and over again . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: You’d look like a goddess on top of me, you know. With that red hair down your arched back and your hips grinding against me. I wouldn’t be able to let you ride me for long.
SIENNAM: Because you’d come?
ROUGHRIDER16: Hell no. Because I’d grab your hips and pound you fucking senseless.
SIENNAM: Oh. I think I’d like that.
ROUGHRIDER16: You think?
SIENNAM: This is frustrating. I want you.
ROUGHRIDER16: I want you back.
SIENNAM: I’m all wet and completely alone. So sad.
ROUGHRIDER16: FUCKING HELL. You’re making me crazy.
SIENNAM: You gonna do something about it?
ROUGHRIDER16: Why don’t you do something for me? Slip your hand into your panties.
SIENNAM: I want to, but . . . I can’t.
ROUGHRIDER16: Why not?
SIENNAM: Because I don’t know who you are and . . . I’m just not there yet.
ROUGHRIDER16: I understand. And I’m glad you were honest with me.
SIENNAM: I will be going to bed very hot and bothered, though.
ROUGHRIDER16: Me too.
SIENNAM: So tired, but talk again soon?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yes. Sweet dreams, Sienna. Or maybe not so sweet . . . ?
SIENNAM: I’ll never tell.
#stalkersgonnastalk
ROUGHRIDER HAS NEVER touched me, but damn, is he under my skin. Our IM dates have become a nightly thing. When I got out of the shower yesterday evening, thinking of messaging him for our date, I already had a message from him.
ROUGHRIDER16: Sorry, something urgent came up. I’ll be tied up for a while. I’ll msg tomorrow.
I’d been disappointed, which would have been funny if it hadn’t been so sad. How could I have let myself get so wrapped up in someone I don’t really know anything about?
My heels click on the concrete floor of the office hallway a little louder than necessary. I’m crabby and eager to wrap my hands around the cup of Starbucks Jane always has waiting for me.
But when I look at Jane’s desk, it’s not my coffee that grabs my att
ention. Ben Durant is leaning against the wall, apparently chatting with my assistant.
“Sienna.” He stands up straight when he sees me. “Why haven’t you returned my messages?”
Ugh. I made a big mistake going out with an investor. Now I have to figure out how to untangle myself from this mess.
“I’ve just been really busy.”
His expression is skeptical and contrite at the same time. “Can we talk in your office?”
In my mind, I’m replaying this tall, seemingly average man begging me to tell him he’s a bad little bitch. And not only do I not want to think about that night ever again, I definitely don’t want to talk about it.
“I . . . might be able to do that.” I look at Jane, trying to telegraph my desperation. “How’s my schedule this morning?”
“Wide open.” She grins victoriously.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Come on in,” I tell Ben.
Jane and I need to work on some nonverbal signals for future reference. She’s still looking pleased with herself when she calls out, “Oh, delivery for you on your desk, Sienna. I left your coffee there too.”
“Thanks,” I say weakly.
The delivery turns out to be an enormous bouquet of red flowers. There are a half-dozen different blooms, all the same gorgeous shade, arranged in a tall, cut glass vase.
“Oh, Ben.” My shoulders drop, and I look at him. “You shouldn’t have.”
He arches his brows with surprise. “I didn’t.”
“They’re not from you?”
“No. I wish they were, though.”
Furrowing my brow, I walk over to the flowers, their sweet scent greeting me as I pluck a small white envelope from its holder.
When I read it, my pulse quickens.
I’m sorry about last night. I know the ride’s been rough lately, but you still mean everything to me.
RoughRider sent me these flowers. That’s very real. This is the first tangible sign of the man whose identity eludes me. I do matter to him.
“Are you seeing someone else?” Ben asks, his tone hurt.
Thinking fast, I realize this is my out.
“Yes. We’ve had a long-term thing, actually, and we were on a break when I went out with you, but we’re back together now.”
“Back together?” He looks deflated. “So there’s no chance for us?”
No chance in hell, I want to say. You’ll have to find someone else to spank you and fist your ass.
“I’m sorry,” I say instead. “I didn’t mean to lead you on.”
Ben sighs softly and looks at the floor. “Okay. Can we keep what happened between us private?”
Ha! As if I’d ever want anyone to know about it.
“Absolutely. Thank you for understanding.”
He leaves my office looking dejected, and I exhale deeply. Bullet dodged.
I admire the flowers and read the card again before sitting down to message RoughRider, unable to keep the silly smile from my face.
SIENNAM: The flowers are gorgeous. Thank you.
He writes back immediately.
ROUGHRIDER16: Good. I chose red for your hair. It’s beautiful.
SIENNAM: Thank you. Will you tell me what color your hair is?
ROUGHRIDER16: It’s dark.
SIENNAM: I have something to confess.
ROUGHRIDER16: Lord, woman, we just made up ten seconds ago. Lol, let’s hear it.
SIENNAM: I thought about having my IT department figure out who you are.
SIENNAM: . . . ? Are you still there?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yeah, I’m here. You thought about it, but didn’t?
SIENNAM: No. It didn’t feel right.
ROUGHRIDER16: They wouldn’t have been able to find me anyway. I took precautions.
SIENNAM: That sounds ominous . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: It’s not. I just figured curiosity would get the better of you, so I got untraceable accounts.
SIENNAM: Nothing’s untraceable.
ROUGHRIDER16: True. But these would trace to someone other than me.
SIENNAM: You’re never going to tell me who you are, are you?
ROUGHRIDER16: Can’t we just enjoy what we have?
SIENNAM: Don’t you want more than this?
ROUGHRIDER16: Of course, but this is better than nothing.
SIENNAM: I’d love to hear your voice.
ROUGHRIDER16: Maybe at some point.
SIENNAM: Tell me something about you. Anything.
ROUGHRIDER16: I’m dog-sitting a friend’s German Shepherd for a week, and I don’t want to give him back. Best damn dog I’ve ever been around.
SIENNAM: What’s his name?
ROUGHRIDER16: Samson
SIENNAM: Do you have any pets?
ROUGHRIDER16: No, it wouldn’t be fair with my schedule. I want a dog someday, though.
SIENNAM: What are you wearing right now?
ROUGHRIDER16: khakis and a polo . . . you?
SIENNAM: black skirt and blue shirt
ROUGHRIDER16: a skirt . . . something to fantasize about all day . . .
SIENNAM: Skirts do it for you, huh?
ROUGHRIDER16: Yes, if you’re wearing them.
SIENNAM: What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?
ROUGHRIDER16: Strawberry. Yours?
SIENNAM: Cookies and cream.
ROUGHRIDER16: If you could go anywhere in the world for a vacation, where would you choose?
SIENNAM: Hmm . . . an island, I think. Somewhere with a beach and fruity drinks. You?
ROUGHRIDER16: I’d go anywhere with you. Antarctica. Siberia. Alcatraz . . . those all sound fun if you’d be there with me.
SIENNAM: Let’s stick with me choosing destinations . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: Deal. Hey, I have to do some work. I’ll msg later today.
SIENNAM: Okay.
ROUGHRIDER16: I meant what I said on the card.
SIENNAM: xoxo
I sign off the IM app and turn my attention to work. I’m making decent progress, but I can’t help looking at the flowers and card on my desk every now and then. Each time, I feel warm inside.
Is it crazy to be falling so hard for someone I don’t even know? Maybe, but I can’t help myself. Besides, I do know him. Like he said, we’ve met, I just don’t know which of my male acquaintances he is.
I realize I’ve got it bad when I walk to a nearby deli to pick up lunch, bringing the carryout order back to my office rather than eating there because I don’t want to miss RoughRider’s next message by being gone too long.
The independent, no-fucks-given woman I was a month ago is turning into a mushy mess over this guy. But for once, instead of considering all the potential pitfalls, I’m just enjoying it. It feels too good to do anything else.
It’s midafternoon by the time I get a new message from him, and my heart rate kicks up a notch when I do.
ROUGHRIDER16: Hey, how’s your day going?
SIENNAM: Good. Productive. How’s yours?
ROUGHRIDER16: It’s good. A little crazy, but good.
SIENNAM: Where did you say you work?
ROUGHRIDER16: I work in a building.
SIENNAM: Cute. *eyeroll*
ROUGHRIDER16: *wink*
SIENNAM: So I’m doing a phone interview this afternoon with a magazine reporter. I’m excited and a little nervous.
ROUGHRIDER16: That’s great. Don’t be nervous—you’ll be amazing.
SIENNAM: Thanks. I’m always nervous about interviews because some reporters make me sound like the madam of a sex ring or something.
ROUGHRIDER16: You? That made me lol . . .
SIENNAM: Google the one by a blogger named Marjorie McDonald. She has a huge following. Her article was supposed to be a tongue in cheek effort at me “harnessing” the unfilled needs of women, but her double entendre skills are lacking and she makes me out as a dominatrix with a bevy of whips, chains, and actual harnesses in my office. I was horrified.
ROUGHRIDER16: Wow. Yeah, tha
t’s shitty, but look at you now. They say even the worst articles create buzz.
SIENNAM: True . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: I had a dream about you last night.
SIENNAM: Do tell . . .
ROUGHRIDER16: You were in my kitchen, wearing just a t-shirt and panties. I was kissing the back of your neck and sliding my hand under your shirt . . .
I arch my brows, eager to hear more, but before I can start typing a response to that last message, my office door is thrown open, and a woman with wild, dark curls walks through, glaring at me.
Jane must have stepped out. There’s nothing I hate like walk-ins, but I’ll have to handle it.
“Can I help you?” I ask shortly.
“It’s all your fault. You ruined everything.” Her tone is tearful and shaky, with an undercurrent of rage.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
She shakes her head. “I’m Bella Moore. Isaac and I would be together if it wasn’t for you and your stupid policies, you bitch.”
Shit. Isaac’s unbalanced stalker is in my office right now. I reach for my cell phone to call 9–1-1, but Bella lets out an anguished sound.
“Drop. It.” She pulls something from her bag, a flash of silver making my blood run cold.
It’s a gun, and a pretty big one at that. Suddenly my lax security policies have bitten me in the ass. I hired security for Isaac when this thing with Isabella Moore went down, but I should have locked down the entire office.
I set down the phone, sneaking a hand onto my computer keyboard to type a message to RoughRider.
SIENNAM: 911 my office
“Put your hands in the air!”
I obey, putting both my hands where she can see them. The crazed look in her eyes terrifies me. I’m not sure she has any awareness of action and consequence right now. She just sees me as the one keeping her from Isaac.
“I’m sorry, Bella.” I offer a contrite, gentle apology, though my heart is hammering. “You’re absolutely right.”
“Why did you do that? Why wouldn’t you let him be with me?”
“I guess . . . I just wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”
She puts both hands on the gun, and it looks like she’s aiming.
“Please don’t,” I implore. “Let’s talk about this, okay? You seem like a really nice person.”
“I am a nice person. But you ruined everything! I might go to jail because of you!”
I glance over at my computer screen, scanning the IMs RoughRider responded with.
Alpha Mail Page 10
