Twenty Five （B） – Eliza
TWENTY FIVE (B)
ELIZA
Later that night
F rederick demands that I organize Harrison’s wine collection in order of year and taste, and that I listen to a short audiobook titled Seductively Seal the Deal at least three times.
But between the rate I’m struggling to handle the different versions of Bordeaux and the narrator’s breathy repetition of the phrase “a lady would never consider this act,” I’m ready for a break.
I last another hour before leaving and retreating to my room. I slip out of today’s heels and into a pair of socks. Tossing my earbuds onto my desk, I grab a few bottles of glitter and head to the living room to decompress.
“There’s no way you’re finished that fast.”
Harrison’s voice catches me off guard from the kitchen. “I was only with my client for thirty minutes when you started…”
I turn around to see him in a dark grey suit and matching tie—a fast change from the sweats and T-shirt he wore earlier.
“Do you really have to wear a suit to meet with your clients at this point—especially on short notice?” I ask. “I doubt they’d care if they ever saw you in normal clothes.”
“It’s part of the package when they sign a deal with me,” he says, closing a cabinet. “The suit shows that I take them seriously.”
“And what did walking around the condo half-naked say about how you take me?”
“I’m not answering that question.” He motions for me to take a seat at the bar.
I oblige, and he sits across from me.
For several minutes, we just stare at each other.
“You haven’t insulted my walking in over five days,” I say finally. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Both.”
I arch a brow.
“Good because you’re improving. Bad because eventually, a lot of other men will see what I’ve seen from day one.”
He clears his throat and shifts gears before I can respond.
“Your brother called me this morning in a panic,” he says. “Well, his version of panicking.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Something about Carrington Farms being added to the attendees list.” He picks up his phone, taps a few times, then shows me the screen. “Do you know this woman?”
My heart drops.
“Yeah…” I nod. “That’s Harper Sage, Jackson’s ex-girlfriend. Her family built a farm resort a few years ago, and they’ve gotten popular way faster than us.”
“Is your brother wrong to worry?”
“She’s had a personal vendetta against him ever since the breakup, so… no. I hate-follow her on social media. Her solo account has over a million followers compared to our farm’s fourteen thousand.”
“As long as you focus on what you’re doing and don’t get distracted by her, you’ll walk away from that conference with the highest number of deals.”
I nod, even though the surge of confidence I’ve been building doesn’t feel nearly enough to compete with someone like Harper Sage.
Harrison tucks his phone away and glances at the card on the counter—the audiobook title front and center. I brace myself.
“When’s the last time you had great sex?” he asks.
“What?” I feel the heat creep up my neck. “You can’t just ask me that.”
“I just did.” He flips the card over to reveal chapter titles I haven’t reached yet. “Tell me the last time you had great sex.”
“It was in college.”
“What made it great?”
“My boyfriend said it was?—”
“I meant for you. ”
“Oh. I guess… being that close to someone, feeling like I could be naked and intimate without judgment.”
“What about high school?”
“My brothers ran off any guy who got too close,” I say. “Lance more than Jackson. I didn’t even have the chance to think about sex until college.”
“When’s the last time you had any sex?”
“That’s none of your business.” I cross my arms. “It has nothing to do with everything.”
“It does.” His smile is slow. Dangerous. “Tell me.”
“No. I’ll finish the damn audiobook, okay?”
“Eliza…” He leans closer. “When’s the last time you had sex?”
I stand to walk away, but before I can take a step, he grabs my waist and lifts me effortlessly onto the bar.
“You don’t get to run from this.” His voice drops. “Not tonight.”
My breath catches as he steps between my knees, both hands firmly gripping my thighs. I brace for a joke or a sarcastic line—but there’s none. Only silence. Tension. Heat.
He pushes my hair behind my ear and leans in, his lips brushing my jawline. “Did you ever have an orgasm when you had sex?”
“Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper.
“What did it feel like?” His mouth is near mine now, his words dark and deliberate.
“I’m calling Jackson,” I say, weakly. “I’m telling him you’re being inappropriate.”
“Be sure to tell him you liked it.” He slides a finger up the inside of my thigh. “Did it feel like you never wanted it to stop?”
I don’t answer.
He kisses me—hard. One hand tangling in my hair, the other slipping beneath the hem of my shorts. I moan into his mouth, my fingers clawing at his chest.
He tears my panties to the side and presses his thumb against my clit—slow circles, steady rhythm, unwavering control.
“Oh my god…”
He bites my lip, just enough to sting. Then slides two fingers inside me, filling me deep and slow, like he’s mapping every inch of me.
“Ride my hand,” he growls. “Now.”
I hesitate.
“Ride it like you’d fuck me,” he says again, each word rougher than the last.
My hips move before my brain can stop them. I grind against his hand, my body rolling with his rhythm, chasing the edge like it’s the only thing keeping me alive.
Just when I’m there—seconds away—he pulls his hand out and steps back.
“What the?—”
Before I can finish the sentence, he drops to his knees and yanks me to the edge of the counter.
Then his mouth is on me.
Hot. Demanding. Relentless.
His fingers finds the hidden tattoos between my thighs—a small yellow daisy—and he massages it in a way that makes my toes curl.
My head falls back and my hands clutch the counter as waves of ecstasy crash over me.
Higher. Higher. Shattering.
When I come, he keeps his mouth on me, drawing it out, holding me steady as my body trembles uncontrollably.
Then he stands, kisses the corner of my mouth, and whispers against my ear:
“Was it ever like that?”
Never… I’m too wrecked to speak.
“That’s the feeling you should be after when you’re trying to close a deal, Eliza,” he says, coolly. “It’s an ecstasy that’s as close to sex as you’ll ever feel.”
His phone buzzes.
He doesn’t look at me when he answers it.
“I have to take this.”
He glances back, dead calm.
“We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.”