Sultry in Stilettos (17 page)

Cranking open the door to the eleventh
floor, she checked the hallway. To make sure her heels didn’t make
a sound, she carried them. She took the path with the tall cubes
down by the kitchen. She was short enough that she couldn’t be seen
over the tops.

Having learned her lesson, she peaked
into her office window before going in. She couldn’t deal if he was
waiting for her again.

“Oh, thank God,” she mumbled when she
finally made it to her office and locked the door behind her. The
way she figured it, she’d be better equipped to deal with Beckett
after today. She’d had some time to think about what to say to him.
And so far she hadn’t come up with anything good, but she was sure
she would.

Her bunched muscles finally started to
relax once she got into her work day a little. She had two
fantasies coming up this week that she had to put finishing touches
on. A rattling sound in her closet startled her. “What the
hell?”

Frowning, she went over to
the spacious closet and checked it. In the darkness, she didn’t see
anything until the far wall started to rattle again, then she
caught the light gleaming off the metal door knob.
Shit
. She’d forgotten
that this building was a former hotel. When the builders had
renovated it, they’d left some of the doors as connectors. She and
Beckett had one of those doors between their offices

When the door to his office jerked
open, she stumbled back several feet. “Damn it, Beckett, you scared
the hell out of me.”

He scowled as he came through the
closet and occupied the archway. “You want to tell me what the hell
went wrong on Saturday? I’ve been going nuts trying to figure out
how to fix it.”

What to say, what to
say.
She couldn’t very well say, I’m
terrified that if I get too close, you’ll break my heart just like
your brother did. So instead she said, “I don’t know. I just needed
a day or two to wrap my head around—everything.”

“Damn it, Ricca, I need you to talk to
me. Say something. Tell me you regret it. Tell me you never want to
see me again. Tell me you would rather have slept with Carter.
Actually no, don’t tell me that. But for fuck’s sake, tell me
something.”

She backed away. “Beckett, I’m sorry.
I didn’t want to wake up to find you gone, and then I didn’t want
it to be awkward, and then I had no idea what to say, so I took a
minute to try and get my bearings.”

His eyebrows shot up.
“And?”

“I don’t know what to do. I’ve
never—”

He strode toward her. “I don’t know
what to say either. But we have to figure this out together. You
and me. You can’t run from me. It won’t work. I’m too stubborn to
just let you walk away without a conversation.”

She squared her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve
noticed.”

His gaze skipped over her body. “You
look pretty today.”

She glanced down at the lilac Pucci
dress. “Thank you.” Her skin warmed under his intense
scrutiny.

“Ricca, look at me please.”

She tipped her head up to meet his
gaze. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to wake up next to you.
We’ll figure this out, I promise. No matter what, I won’t let this
mess with us, okay?”

She nodded, and he took another step
into her space. Heat sizzled under her skin. “Beckett, what are you
doing?”

“What I wanted to do yesterday
morning.”

He drew her up against him into a kiss
so soft she wondered if it was real. Her response was immediate.
Her knees went wobbly, and the muscles in her core contracted. She
wanted him, even now. Reaching up, she wove her hands into his
hair, and he deepened the kiss. As his tongue delved into her
mouth, his erection hardened against her belly.

Ricca clamped her thighs together when
she felt the damp warmth in her panties. God, what he could do to
her with a simple kiss.

All she’d thought about the whole time
at Micha’s was how his hands had felt on her body. How he’d used
his tongue to stroke her to orgasm not once, but twice. How he’d
taken the time to explore her body and find the hidden spots to
make her melt.

He drew back. “Ricca, shit,
I—”

Even though she knew she shouldn’t,
she couldn’t help herself. He made her feel wanton, and sexy, and
daring. She reached between them and wrapped her fingers around the
rigid length of his erection.

He groaned, and his hips jerked.
“Ricca, what are you—”

“I’m seizing the day.” She stroked
again, and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Ricca, you do that again, and I’m
going to fuck you right here in your office. Is that something you
want?”

She met his gaze. “Maybe,” she
breathed.

His gaze flew to her door. “I’d almost
think you planned this,” he chuckled.

She pulled at his shirt.

He dragged her toward the closet. He
yanked his connecting door shut, then slid his hands down her arms,
intertwining their fingertips. “Brace your hands on the
door.”

She shook as she complied. “Beckett,
what are you doing?”

“You’ll figure it out soon
enough.”

He shifted behind her and kissed the
nape of her neck. His broad hands stroked her hair as he exposed
her shoulder. “You are so sexy. This color suits you.”

Everywhere he touched her, he left a
path of shivering temptation. Desire skipped across her nerve
endings, and heat pooled in her core. She needed him. “Beckett,
please.”

When he started to slide the fabric of
her dress up, her breath hitched, and zings of desire pierced her.
His hands caressed her ass, and his fingers hooked into her thong
and dragged it aside. He stroked her exposed flesh, and she bit
back a moan.

“No. Ricca, I want you to tell me that
you like what I’m doing. I want to hear it.”

“Beckett. Someone will hear
us.”

He inserted a finger into her slick,
damp heat, and she let her head fall back.

“You do have a point. You’ll get a
pass this time, but I want to hear you tell me how much you want
me. Maybe tonight. Maybe before then, like at lunch time. I want to
take you home so you can be as loud as you want.”

Anything. Whatever he wanted, she’d
give it to him. Anything. She just wanted the deep aching to stop.
"Okay. Just…I need you now.”

“And next time, you won’t run. I’ll
just come find you again.”

“N-No. Beckett, please.”

He chuckled. “What the lady wants, the
lady gets.”

He kneeled behind her and placed
feather light kisses on the backs of her thighs. Her legs quivered,
and he steadied her with his hands on her hips. When he canted her
hips up and ran his tongue from her damp center to her clit, she
did cry out. “Oh, Beckett.”

She heard foil ripping, then the
jingle-jangle of his metal belt buckle. All the while, his tongue
took her to the edge of oblivion.

He stopped his ministrations, and she
cried out, missing his warmth. He parted her thighs, and she
automatically widened her stance. He filled her with one fluid
stroke, and her eyes fluttered shut in bliss.

“Jesus, Ree, you are so tight.” He
retreated an inch, then slid back in. Retreated two inches, then
surged in to the hilt. He slid his hands around the flat planes of
her belly, then down to her clit. Tracing slow circles in time with
his thrusts. It didn’t take much before the torrent of pleasure
started from her toes and rocketed through her body.

The moment she started to crest, he
increased his pace, sliding home over and over again, until he
tensed behind her and roared, muffling his shout in her neck.
Unable to hold her weight any longer, Ricca’s knees gave
out.

Beckett caught her. “I swear, Ricca,
you’re going to be the death of me.”

Maybe, but what would he do to her
heart?

“Beckett, you have a visitor
downstairs in the lobby.”

Beckett’s head snapped up to look at
Emily. "Who is it?" He’d been lost in the memory of what he and
Ricca had done in her office this morning. His whole body went
rigid just thinking about it.

Emily shook her head. “Your dad and
your brother. Front lobby just called it up. Want me to tell them
that you’re not in? I know that you’re still recuperating and
stuff."

There it was again—the pity
he'd been getting from everyone in the office. All the women had
been fawning over him like he was a broken dove or something. The
guys, on the other hand, were circling like vultures. Like they'd
been hoping he wouldn’t be back so soon after the accident.
Too bad suckers
.
I'm not going anywhere.

"Can you do me a solid and let the
team know I'll be about fifteen minutes late. Oh and if you can
make sure Angel transfers any of the remaining files regarding
Lila’s fantasy to me and Ricca, that would be great." He hadn't
spoken with Angel since she'd shown up at his place the other
night. He’d have to deal with her sooner rather than later though.
Knowing Ricca, she wouldn’t want gossip all over the office about
them. Angel didn't have much to go on, but at the end of the day,
she could speculate, and he and Ricca didn't need that kind of
headache with everything else.

When Beckett walked by Ricca's office,
she wasn’t inside. Maybe she was at her meeting with Lila by now.
She'd said something about connecting with her for the planning of
Roberto’s next Fantasy.

He wasn’t a fan of how easily Ricca
dominated space in his brain now. It had been bad enough when he’d
only obsessed about her fantasy basketball league plays and what
ridiculous thing he could do or say to make her laugh. But now that
he’d touched her, being with her again was all he could think
about.

Taking the elevator, he stretched out
a little. They'd been all over each other, and frankly he was
exhausted. Though more than happy to do it again.

When the doors parted, his father
waited for him in the lobby. The one person he would rather not be
dealing with, lounging in the lobby as if he belonged there.
Beckett set his jaw and strode over, anxious to get the old man out
of sight and out of mind.

"Dad, what are you doing
here?" Beckett did a quick scan of the lobby and saw Braedon in one
of the leather lobby chairs. His bother shrugged and
mouthed,
I’m sorry
. Damn, would a warning phone call have been too much to ask
for?

"Beckett, would you believe I came to
check on you, since you wouldn't return my calls? When your office
said you were injured, I tried to reach you."

First of all, Pops wasn’t
on Beckett’s next of kin phone tree; it was Ricca first, then her
mother, then his brother.
Never
the old man. His father had made it clear years
ago that if Beckett wasn’t going to do as he was told then he might
as well consider himself an orphan. So if his office hadn’t called
Dear Old Dad, that meant the old man had found out about the
accident from Braedon.

"Maybe you don’t understand
the concept, Dad. You having your assistant call me, and you
calling me yourself, are two totally different things." He clamped
his lips together.
Just find out what he
wants and get back to work.
You don’t have
time to fool around.
From the corner of
his eye, Beckett saw Carter walk in. Carter looked a little
surprised to see him, but nevertheless gave him a nod.

"Well, Dad, you've seen me. I'm
obviously fine. Sorry to disappoint. Now what are you doing here?
If you wanted to check on me, you would have called me yourself.
And if my lawyer didn't call, letting me know you've stopped
contesting my trust, then that means you’re here for something
else."

His father frowned. “I’ll stop
contesting your trust just as soon as you grow up.”

Beckett shook his head. “You’ll never
get it, will you? I’m trying to do some good with that money. You
know what though? I don’t need anything from you. Burn it all, if
you must. I’m not interested in what you have to say.”

“Beckett, this is your legacy. You
can’t just keep playing your whole life. You have a fucking law
degree from Stanford, but instead you’re here, doing what? Playing
cops and robbers? That’s not a job. That’s a vacation.”

“If you’re here to convince me to join
the firm, you’re doing a stellar job.” Beckett’s heart raced as his
anger simmered, and he forced himself to lower his voice. “Not
going to happen, Dad. I’m sorry you wasted your time."

His father's face turned two different
shades of red. "Why are you being so stubborn?"

"I could ask you the same thing. You
have never been interested in me. You think I'm the family screw
up. Why you're so desperate to have me at the firm is really beyond
me. I'd think you would be happy that I was out of your hair."
Beckett folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. "Dad, all I
want is to renovate that building. That’s it." He was so damn tired
of fighting with the old man. He’d spent a lifetime trying to
justify who he was, and in that moment, he realized his father
would never understand.