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Fuck.
Now, I’m all worked up again.
“Beckett?!” The sound of my name snaps me back to reality.
Rupert Cahill’s expectant gaze is trained on me.
What did he say?
I rack my brain, but come up empty.
Shit.
Instead of focusing on the meeting, my mind is in the gutter.
“I’m sorry, Rupert. I missed that last part.”
“Do I have the green light to ask our lawyers in Hong Kong to go after the copycats threatening to cheapen our brand?” our head of in-house counsel asks.
Got it!
“Absolutely! We need to send a message. A strong one! I want to deter other idiots from following the same sleazy path.”
“We’re on the same page,” he says.
“It’s one thing for them to steal our design—as cheap looking as it is—it’s another for them to use a near-copy of our logo. It dupes customers.”
“Agreed,” Rupert says. “Thanks to astute private investigators, the lawyers in Hong Kong have already zeroed in on the culprit’s plant. They’re just waiting for an answer from you.”
“Whatever it takes,” I say.
“Excellent!”
Rupert takes trademark infringement seriously.
“For the next item on the list, I’d like to tackle—” I stop mid-sentence when I catch sight of the silhouette striding behind Rupert.
I lose my train of thought.
The advantage of having clear glass conference room walls is you don’t feel like you’re trapped in a dungeon. The disadvantage is you see everything that’s happening outside and it can be quite distracting.
Like now.
Arianne trails past the conference room with Flora by her side, laughing her head off. Her exuberance isn’t what catches my attention. What she’s wearing has my cock on alert.
“Beckett?!”
In a matter of minutes Rupert catches me not paying attention twice. Not good for the CEO of the company.
I force myself to gather my thoughts. “I’m sorry, Rupert. As I was saying—”
What. The. Fuck?
My attempt at focusing goes to shit when Arianne comes to stand with Flora right across from the conference room, her back facing me.
My eyes are glued to her ass and I can only picture myself reddening said ass, leaving my mark with every slap. My cock swells at the idea of a mouth-watering encore.
I proclaimed predictability was such a bore, but damn if I don’t want to drag her to my office for a repeat of yesterday’s naughty play.
