Power Play: A Black & White Collection Story (9 page)

Then, it came to him.

“We’ll work together.”

She stood before his desk and through her reflected image in the glass he could see he’d gotten her attention.

He turned to look at her, a wickedly wonderful idea forming in his mind. “We’ll put the Wedded Bliss presentation together as a team. We’ll start now. Order in food for the next two days. Take turns sleeping on my couch. It’s the only way.”

She nodded, clearly understanding exactly how far behind they were. “Okay. That’s a good plan. Surely between the two of us, we can—”

“If we land the bid, we share the wager.”

She shook her head. “No. No more wagers.”

“The game’s not over, Frankie. You shook on the deal.” He was a bastard to push this, but he couldn’t let her go yet. He just couldn’t.

“We shook on a competition. We’re collaborating now.”

“We’re still competing. Only this time, it won’t be against each other, but against The Wilkerson Team and three other firms. The competition is stiff on this one. The wager stands.”

“Stands how?”

He could see she was equal parts distrustful and intrigued. Though she’d given him a brief glimpse at the vulnerable woman inside, he could tell she’d tucked her away once more. Sexy, self-assured Frankie was making a comeback. “We share the fantasy. Name one fantasy—anything you want—and I’ll give it to you.”

“A threesome.”

Her quick answer sent his brain into a tailspin and he studied her face to see if her response was the truth or merely a way to pick at him. As always, she gave him nothing. “So should I round up another man or another woman?”

She smiled. “I don’t share with other women.”

“But I’m supposed to share you with another guy?”

She shrugged. “Why not? I don’t belong to you.”

He wanted to refute that fact, but there was nothing he could say that she would listen to and suddenly he understood her request. She thought by pushing him into a ménage, she’d be able to keep the wall between them high, impenetrable. “Fine.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine?”

“I’ll find another man to join us in this next fantasy.”

She raised her hand. “This last fantasy. After this, no more games.”

He readily agreed. It was time he stopped fucking around, stopped pretending. The moment their last fantasy was realized, he was going to turn his attention to seriously wooing Ms. Frankie Carlyle. She wouldn’t know what hit her. The idea actually made him smile. “No more games.”

“Fine, then I suggest we get started on the campaign or our wager won’t—”

“Don’t you want to know what my fantasy will be if we win?”

She took in a sharp breath and he could see she’d forgotten that detail. “Sure.” She dragged out the word, proving she really didn’t want to know at all.

“Exhibitionism.”

“I don’t understand.”

He walked around the desk, watched as she fought to hold her ground. She was definitely going to take him on a merry chase. He couldn’t wait to begin. “There’s going to be an audience the next time we have sex.”

“Oh.” He watched her process his demand. If he’d expected her to refuse, run screaming from the room, once again he was disappointed. The woman was indomitable. She gave him a small smile. “That could be fun.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I have to admit this fantasy didn’t exist until our rendezvous in the alleyway.”

She laughed. “What happened there?”

“It dawned on me as I was thrusting into that hot body of yours that I didn’t care if the world walked by and caught us in the act. In fact, I was sort of hoping someone would happen upon us.”

“You do realize what’s driving this, don’t you?” Her words were playful and he suspected her next comment would be a jab.

Even so, he grinned and egged her on. “No. What?”

“It’s your overweening ego. You think you’re a stud of a lover and you want to show off. Plain and simple.”

He took a step closer, grasping her quickly with two hands on her waist before she could retreat. He pulled her closer, pushing the erection she constantly inspired into her stomach. “Sweetheart, you seem determined to insinuate that I’m not a good lover when you know the truth.”

She laughed. “I didn’t say you weren’t…” she paused, then chose a word sure to annoy him, “…okay.”

“Looks like I’ve been dropping the ball. If we’re going to put on a show for people, maybe I should brush up on my game. Practice a bit.”

His gaze dropped to her suddenly turgid nipples and he gave her a devilish grin. “Take off that shirt.”

She shook her head, pushing out of his grip. He let her go, simply because her earlier comments were still playing in his head. He was worried about her. While he’d resigned himself to the fact he was in love with her, he knew Frankie wouldn’t concede defeat on that emotion easily. Throughout the past few weeks, he’d gotten to know her better and he’d sensed a small wounded part inside her that seemed determined to hold the world at arm’s length. He’d tried to dig for an answer, tried to figure out what it was that was scaring her so, but he’d had no luck uncovering the truth. He could only assume she’d loved and lost before.

“No. We are already in a world of hurt on this campaign and we don’t have time for sex.”

He glanced at his watch and knew she was speaking the truth. “Dammit. Much as it pains me to admit this, you’re right.”

She ran her hand along his rough jaw, his five o’clock shadow making its daily appearance. “You’re a very hard man to resist sometimes.”

He smiled. “Working so closely to you for hours on end and not touching you? It’s gonna be tough.”

She nodded and he could see in her face she agreed. She looked at him for a moment and he sensed she was fighting an internal battle with herself. “Fuck it,” she muttered.

“What?”

“How about I set up a reward system?”

He leaned back on his desk, not bothering to hide the obvious bulge in his pants. Frankie had apparently gotten used to it. It also looked like she’d decided she was tired of fighting their attraction. “I like the sound of that. What did you have in mind?”

“You’ve heard of strip poker. I was thinking we could adapt it. For every hour of work on this project, we take turns removing a piece of clothing.”

He nodded. “I like your idea of incentive.”

She held up a finger to ward him off when he took a step closer. “The game only continues until nine tomorrow morning when the other employees come in. At that point, my clothes go back on. Then tomorrow night, we’ll disrobe where we left off and start again.”

“Solid plan. I like it.”

“Oh and we’re just undressing. Nothing else.”

He shook his head. “No deal. With each piece of clothing that comes off, we have five minutes to enjoy the newly uncovered body part. We’ll call it a work break.”

She considered his addendum and then nodded. “Okay. You’re on. Five minutes.”

They moved around his desk together as he opened up a file and the first hour passed in the blink of an eye as they bounced around ideas. Reed was impressed by Frankie’s creativity and energy. Though the workday had wrapped up for everyone else in their company, she’d gotten a second wind that was pulling him along for the ride.

He didn’t realize working with a partner, an equal, could be so invigorating. She fired him up and, for the first time in a long time, he remembered why he was doing this job. He’d always loved the art of the deal, creating campaigns, planning marketing strategies. All of those things were like crossword puzzles to him. He also loved The Donovan Group, loved this company and his uncle. He had a vested interest in its successes and failures, simply because it felt like home to him. Watching Frankie work on an angle, sketching out designs for artwork, proved how smart Brian had been in hiring her. He’d been a fool to try to sabotage her, an idiot not to form this working partnership from the beginning.

“First hour’s up,” she said, stirring him from his thoughts. “Looks like we need the break. You’ve been lollygagging in la-la land for the last ten minutes. I’m not sharing any fantasy with you if I do all the work on this bid.”

There had been very few people in his life who’d ever felt confident or comfortable enough to give him shit about anything—his uncle, Carter, and now Frankie made up that short list.

“Um, excuse me, but who was the person who came up with the idea of using photographs for the artwork, mimicking the look of a wedding album? We were stuck until I suggested that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’d hardly consider that an earth-shattering epiphany, but who am I to split hairs? I’ll even take one for the team and lose the first item of clothing.”

He leaned forward in anticipation of spending the rest of the night working with a topless Frankie.

She reached up and removed one earring.

“What the fuck? That wasn’t part of the deal.”

She shrugged. “Jewelry wasn’t eliminated as clothing and it certainly qualifies as something you wear.”

She’d fucked him over with semantics. Next hour it would be his turn to lose a piece of clothing, followed, no doubt, by her other damn earring. A quick glance at her hands confirmed she was wearing two rings as well as the bracelet dangling from her wrist. Hell, she even had a necklace on. It would well past dawn before he ever saw any skin and by then, the game would be over until tomorrow night.

She chuckled softly as she returned to her sketches and he decided it was time Ms. Carlyle understood exactly who she was messing with.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She looked up at him, confused. “Am I?”

“Five minutes of fun. Start the clock now.”

Before she could respond, he pulled her out of her chair and on to his lap. She started to protest, but he cut off her comments with his lips on her now earring-less lobe. She moaned when he sucked it into his mouth and he tucked away the new information that told him Frankie’s ears were definitely an erogenous zone for her. With his teeth and tongue, he teased the tiny bit of flesh, even blowing along the edge of her ear, loving the slight shudder his breath provoked.

Her nipples peeked through her blouse and she began to squirm on his lap. He started to suspect she wouldn’t complain if he shoved her skirt around her waist and took her. But, where would be the fun in that? She’d attempted to play him for a fool with her jewelry trick and now he was going to make sure she suffered for that gag.

“Time’s up,” he said after several minutes of tormenting her tiny earlobe. She startled at his proclamation and he hid a grin as he watched her try to shake off the residual effects of his touches. She was horny as shit. Good.

She stood up from his lap, returning to her chair slowly. He ignored her gaze on him and turned back to his computer, pretending to work. He tried to discreetly adjust his pants. It was going to be a long night.

Frankie rose from Reed’s lap on unsteady legs. It was well after midnight and the man had kept her in a state of perpetual horniness since they’d started this damn game. It was her own fault for initiating the stripping idea. She’d been trying to gain back some of the ground she’d lost when she’d lowered her shield, asked him to postpone collecting on a bet he hadn’t even won. What the hell had she been thinking? Why hadn’t she bothered to ask him if he’d even created a campaign before conceding to him?

She knew why. For weeks, she’d lived with an uncomfortable truth. She was falling for Reed Donovan. And that was something that simply could not happen. He was too controlling, too set in his ways. Hell, hadn’t he informed her during her first week at The Donovan Group that it was a man’s world? An image of her father flashed through her mind. She wouldn’t become her mother. She wouldn’t give up a career that meant everything in the world to her simply to appease a man.

She’d asked him to hold off because she needed time to regroup, time to rebuild her walls. Enacting their fantasies had opened her eyes to the very unsavory fact that there was very little she wouldn’t do to please this man in bed. And while that hard truth had so far been contained to the sex realm, she was terrified it could creep over into their professional lives as well.

“How come you never married?”

His question jarred her, dragging her from her worries thoughts. She shrugged. “I don’t know. No time, I guess. You know how much work goes into building this career.”

He nodded. “You never wanted to get married? Never met Mr. Right?”

She tried to understand his sudden interest in her love life. “No.”

“Don’t you ever date, Frankie?”

She scowled. “What’s with the third degree? None of this is any of your damn business.”

“I’m just curious. Working on this campaign got me to thinking about marriage and weddings.”

She decided to lob the ball back into his court. “How come you’ve never gotten married?”

His answer came easily. “If you’d asked me a couple of months ago, I would have said the same thing as you. Work keeps me too busy to pursue a relationship.”

“That’s not the answer now?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I think the reason I’ve never taken the leap is because I’d never met the right woman. A woman who made me think forever wasn’t such a bad proposition.”

He was looking at her too intently, his eyes seeming to confirm what she was reading between the lines. Was she his forever woman?

She closed her eyes, blocked out the image and the thought. Not gonna happen. Reed was completely wrong for her. She repeated the words a few times, wishing they would penetrate her foolish heart.

She felt Reed’s finger tapping lightly on the tip of her nose. “Open your eyes.”

She obeyed, trying to harden her heart to his kind face.

“Time for another work break. My turn to shed a piece of clothing.”

He’d already lost his shoes and a sock. She’d given him three mini foot rubs, while he’d tantalized her ears and neck with warm, soft kisses as she’d shed her other earring and necklace. She expected him to pull off his last sock, so she was surprised when his hands began tackling the buttons on his shirt. Dammit. This wasn’t going to be good. There was no way she could resist his bare chest. Her body had been in a constant state of arousal since the game had begun. There was no way she’d make it through the entire night without embarrassing herself, begging him for more.