Chapter 11
NICK
Idrum my fingers impatiently against my desk after sending off my fifth email of the hour.
Riley left the office almost an hour and a half ago, and at first when I was told, annoyance filled me.
To think that she just left and didn’t even bother to tell me she was going.
Instead she chose to call my assistant, as if telling me herself was unacceptable.
I shouldn’t have left the office early to work from home today.
Regardless, if she had an appointment, I can’t blame her.
Though I am surprised. I know everything that happens in her life and I don’t recall hearing about any upcoming appointments in her calendar. Something I’ll have to discuss with my PI later.
Not long after she left, I went home expecting the usual text update from her that she sends when she gets home, but nothing’s come in yet.
The last text I got from her was right after we wrapped up our meeting this morning—and God, am I brilliant for insisting on one-on-one meetings every week. It’s not like I don’t keep up with her work daily, even when I have better things to be doing, but I’ll take any excuse to be alone with her.
I can’t be blamed, not when she walks around all prim and proper in those little pencil skirts that make me want to ruin her.
Going over her progress from the week while she looked at me from behind those sweet glasses, nearly vibrating in her seat at every bit of praise, is the sweetest torture imaginable.
I want to make her sit on my cock during one of those meetings and see just how put-together she is then.
My phone stays stubbornly dark no matter how harshly I glare at it, so I resign myself to sending off yet another email just to keep my hands busy. This is the most work I’ve done on a Friday night since I first started the company. Can’t say I’m enjoying it.
It’s not that I’m testing Riley, I just want to see the fruits of my labor.
I want some initiative on her end, a show that she’s just as needy for my attention as I want her to be.
She’s a shy little thing, and I know even texting me first was a big step for her, but that’s why I’ve been slowly setting up a bit of structure to the way we talk.
Texts before she heads into the office, on her lunch break, random updates throughout the day, and when she gets home.
I want the absence of conversation to make her uncomfortable, desperate for it.
Unfortunately, I’m an impatient bastard at heart. I’m back to tapping out an annoyed rhythm against the glossy top of my desk like I’m the desperate one in need of conversation.
My phone lights up, and I snatch it from the desktop before it even finishes vibrating, a triumphant grin on my face. It falls when I actually read the notification.
Thomas Vale: Doors open at 7, but you know you can show whenever you please. Got a table with your name on it.
Right, the auction.
As fun as Thomas’s events always are, the last thing I want is to go out and swat pawing hands away from me all night.
All I want is Riley. A part of me regrets even telling him I might be there.
He won’t hold it against me, but the thought of even promising that when I’m trying to pull in Riley tugs at my chest in a way I’m not used to.
Like guilt that shouldn’t be there.
I can’t help but imagine what it would be like taking Riley to that place. To see her put on display. For a moment the idea sounds appealing, then the thought of other men watching what’s mine slowly begins to sink in.
I don’t want to physically share her with anyone… but others watching me take what’s mine only makes the situation that much more desirable.
I groan in frustration, dragging a hand down my face as I swipe over to my text thread with her. I’m not the type to remind someone of my existence or ask for attention, but Riley gets a free pass, just this once.
Even though she hasn’t even read my last text where I told her I was wrapping up work.
Nick: Did you make it home safe, Miss Morgan?
Nicholas D’Amico, double texting. What has the world come to?
A response comes in before I can even set my phone back down. I refuse to feel relieved, leaning into smugness instead. I may not take up all of the space in Riley’s mind yet, but she still jumps at the chance to talk to me.
Just how I want it.
Riley: Hey! Yes, sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you!
Riley: Had a bit of a rough end of my day with some coworkers and then my best friend called and invited me out to some club tonight to get my mind off it.
A frown creases my brows at that. I thought she had an appointment. I swear to God, if Sloane is still finding ways to bother Riley, I’m going to send the bitch packing. She’s lucky she still has a job in the first place.
I type out a response, picking my words carefully so as not to give my identity away, but before I can hit send, another text comes in, and my mind goes utterly blank at the sight.
Two pictures light up my screen.
The first is Riley’s gorgeous face, free of glasses for once, with her hazel eyes highlighted by shimmery eyeshadow and a flick of eyeliner.
Her chestnut hair is let down instead of pulled back like she always keeps it at the office, flowing in easy waves over her shoulders.
She looks elegant and sultry at the same time, her lips painted with just a hint of glossy color, a delicate silver necklace resting between her collarbones.
The second is a full-body shot that nearly gives me a fucking heart attack.
If I thought she looked stunning at the gala, she looks fucking unreal now.
She’s draped in a skintight silky cobalt blue dress with a slit up one thigh, her bare leg peeking out.
Matching strappy heels give her a boost in height, but I have no doubt she’d still have to tip her head back to look up at me.
Fuck.
I need to see her in that dress.
I need to see her out of that dress.
Nick: Miss Morgan, you’ve outdone yourself. You look breathtaking. Where are you heading, all dolled up like that?
The thought of other men seeing her like this, wanting her, has me seeing red. No one should think they have a chance with her. They shouldn’t be able to lay eyes on her without the knowledge that she’s mine.
Anger courses through me as I clench my free hand and stand to my feet. I have to get ahold of myself. Regardless of the situation, I can’t let myself lose control. Making my way to the small liquor bar stashed in my desk, I pour a whiskey and throw it back in one go.
It’s not like me to get upset over a woman like this, and I don’t like it.
Riley: My friend said it’s called The Echelon. They’re holding a charity event or something; she got tickets from a friend who couldn’t make it. Have you ever been?
My simmering rage at the thought of anyone else looking at her shifts to interest as a slow grin spreads across my face.
Sweet little Riley, walking right into the lion’s den with this one.
Nick: I have. My friend owns the place. I take it this is your first time going?
God, Thomas is going to be insufferably pleased when I show up tonight.
It may not be my smartest idea, but it is a masked event, just like most of the shindigs at The Echelon, so it’s not like there’s much chance of Riley recognizing me. I’ve already managed to hide behind two masks without her noticing; a third can’t be that difficult.
Riley: Haha, yeah. Taylor said it’s super exclusive but that they open it up a little for events like this. Is it nice?
My lips twitch in amusement as I think through how I often spend my time there.
Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use.
I’d rather show her than tell her, though.
Nick: It certainly has its charms.
I can’t help being a bit annoyed that she’d go to a place like that without me, but she obviously doesn’t know the full extent of what The Echelon is.
Thomas doesn’t often advertise the back rooms when he’s hosting an event like this, and Riley clearly isn’t one for the nightlife.
Her friend might be aware, might even be planning to encourage Riley to have a little fun tonight, but I can handle that.
After all, I know where Riley is going now, and I already have a table set aside with my name on it. Getting my hands on her will be easier than ever.
And I’ve been growing steadily more impatient the longer we’ve been texting, anyway.
Riley: Are you going to be there tonight? Since your friend owns it and all, lol
God, she’s so cute when she’s nervous.
I can’t wait to fuck every last thought out of that pretty little head.
Nick: I already made my donation, so I was planning on spending the night in, but if you’re good, you might just see me.
Without waiting for a response from her, I swipe back to my texts with Thomas.
Nick: I’ll be there. Keep Riley Morgan’s ticket aside for the auction and make sure she’s selected, and put the entry fee for her and her friend on my tab.
A slew of question marks answer me, followed by rapid-fire demands for more information. I chuckle at his obvious excitement and bewilderment, but there’s no reason to keep Riley a secret anymore.
By the end of tonight, she’ll be mine, through and through.
Nick: I’ll add a zero to the check I wrote you if you shut the hell up.
The text flood stops immediately, with one final response coming in from him.
Thomas Vale: You’re a dick. I’ll make it happen.
What a good friend. Maybe I’ll add two zeros to that check.
After all, Riley’s worth it.
I push up from my desk and head over to my closet, stepping in to pick through my suits for something that will do for tonight.
The mask I always wear to The Echelon is stiff black fabric with intricate silver stitching, handmade and custom fitted.
I want to match with Riley, just a bit, so I decide on an all-black suit with a silky blue pocket square, leaving the first few buttons of my shirt undone to offer just a peek at my chest.
We’ll look stunning beside each other.
And she’ll look fucking perfect beneath me.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, a combination of excitement and arousal pumping through my veins as I walk back out of my closet to grab my phone.
Another text from Riley waits for me.
Riley: Am I really going to get to see you again?
A smirk tugs at my lips at the obvious hope in those words, but I decide to pocket my phone instead of answering her.
After all, she’s going to find out my plans for her soon enough.
No need to spoil the surprise completely.