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“Don’t make me pull out a ruler, Christensen. Your forbidden Vegas escapade trumps everything out there. And you’re trending under #ZelBeckEpicFuck. No one is talking about our company, Beckett. It’s all about you, the bad boy with the insatiable sexual appetite. A virgin and a pastor’s daughter? There were no other damn choices?”
“Listen, Rhys, I take full responsibility for my actions, but one thing is certain, Zelda was no virgin.” I point an angry finger at him. “I’m willing to back it up with my entire fortune.”
“That’s not what her father claims.”
“This is a publicity grab on the pastor’s part,” I say. “Zelda is as much of a virgin as I’m about to be canonized as a saint.”
“Why would her father risk his reputation if it wasn’t true?” Rhys asks.
I’m about to retort when a memory surges.
“It all makes sense now.” I slap my forehead with my palm.
“What are you talking about?”
“Zelda was adamant. Fucking her pussy was a dealbreaker. Her father claims she’s a virgin, but it’s semantics—”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That woman’s ass is well used, looser than many pussies I’ve fucked. She gets fucked in the ass to pretend she’s still untouched.”
Rhys lifts his hand. “Too much information.”
“I’m not going to sit here and be accused.”
“What about last month’s presidential fuck with the President’s daughter? What was your excuse again?”
“I have none,” I say. “Trust me, her father’s former position was the last thing on her mind as she was begging for my cock.”
Always aim higher, is my motto.
I graduated from almost fucking the former Vice President’s daughter and her two best friends in a club in London to fucking the former President’s daughter. Honestly, that almost foursome in London could’ve cost me everything. If it wasn’t for the fact my three playmates invited a few friends—who only party with drugs—to join us without my knowledge or consent, my dick might’ve put me in some hot water. Going on pure instinct, I bailed out just as a reporter was making his way to the room where the fun was happening. It was a close call… way too close for comfort.
“In my defense, she kept insisting once you go to Texas, you never go back,” I say.
That woman knows how to show Southern hospitality.
Rhys shakes his head and lets out a sarcastic laugh.
“What?” I demand.
“I get this isn’t your first real taste of success, but it is for me. And right now, your dick is fucking it all up—for me, for you, and for all the hard-working and dedicated employees who believe in our vision. You owe them more than that!” He jabs the air with a finger.
We stare at each other long and hard like two silverback gorillas about to engage in a brawl, his blue eyes burning into my own.
Alpha versus Alpha.
“Beckett, you’re the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m the lucky bastard who gets to ride this along with you. You need to start thinking with your other head.”
“I can multitask.” I sneer.
I hold his defiant gaze.
The fury dissipates from his eyes, replaced by an air of defeat.
This company is his raison d’être. Sometimes he forgets it’s also mine.
I get up, plow my hand through my hair and take a seat on the edge of my desk, my gaze never leaving his.
