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Southern Spice by Jami Leigh Burk


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WARNING: This is 18 and over content.


Chapter 1 “When are you gonna give me some grandbabies?” My mama sure knew how to open a conversation. “Jesus, Mama!” I was incredibly sick of hearing how she was the last one of her friends at her bridge club that did not have a grandbaby. “Dolly Jane Good, do not take our Lord and Savior’s name in vain,” she scolded. “Sorry, Mama.” I never used cuss words or said “JC” in front of, or within a mile of earshot of, my Southern Baptist Mother. This minor slip was because of the current frustration with my dating life. It made it extra special that my mama kept dumping salt in the wound by asking for grandbabies at least once a week. Our weekly telephone chats happened on my lunch break on Fridays just before the weekend so that she could get a run-down of my potential gentleman callers. Unfortunately, I exhausted all my Tinder prospects and gave up on trying to find a date in this city. So, to satiate the beast, I pulled names from my favorite smutty romance novels and used those to keep her at bay. This week I would date Gideon Banks. Gideon is an orthodontist who likes to role play as a pirate. I was all-in to bury his treasure, if you know what I mean. It gave me great pleasure to picture my mother clutching her pearls in utter shock, knowing her proper southern daughter was into such things. However, at this point, she wasn’t telling me to hold an aspirin between my legs on a date. After hurrying off the phone with my overbearing and nosey mama, I ran to the restroom to straighten myself up. I moved to New York about three years ago to work at the biggest real estate development firm in the tri-state area. I had big dreams for myself and had vowed to do anything possible to get out of that Podunk town, and I did. I worked my ass off and became a lawyer. My specialty is zoning law. Some folks might think that was boring, but I found it exciting. They did not take me seriously when I first started practicing in New York, mainly because of my incredibly thick accent and my uncanny resemblance to my namesake, Dolly Parton. I had to really prove myself to get to my current position at Donaldson Reitman Development Company. Every Friday at 1:00 p.m., Orion Donaldson would hold check-in meetings with the legal staff. He was such an incredible man and the reason I had been so successful at DRDC. He would often confide in me about decisions because he appreciated my southern bluntness. When he died, I thought about leaving, but recently, I received an email about the restructuring of the organization with Beckham’s leadership. I was curious about the changes, so I stuck around. Expecting the meeting with the new CEO today, I wore my smartest suit, which was a black mid-calf, tight-fitting pencil skirt, and a black three-quarter sleeve blazer with a red belt. Since turning thirty, my petite cheerleader body gave way to some insane curves. I was no bigger than a minute, then one day, I woke up and my yoga pants looked like I stuffed them with two honey baked hams from the backside. Maybe it didn’t happen overnight, but it sure as heck seemed like it. It was a challenge for me to keep all my goodies under wraps. Fashion was my thing, and I loved to be a bit extra with my wardrobe, but my shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair was my calling card. When I walked into a room, I simply demanded attention, and it was exactly what I got. Unfortunately, I haven’t been successful in getting any attention from the opposite sex lately, and it was really messing with my confidence. When I got back to my office, my best friend—and Mr. Reitman’s personal assistant—Muriel was sitting at my desk waiting for me. Of course, she was the opposite of me. She was this tiny little spitfire from Brooklyn. She was single as well, but faring better than me as a New York single. “How was mama?” She asked, using her fake southern drawl. “Well, you know mama,” I said, smacking her feet off my desk. “Dolly Jane, are you pregnant yet? You know, I would love to have a grandbaby before I’m dead and gone,” Muriel mocked. “Oh my gosh, Muriel, please stop. You are too good at that, and I’m fixin’ to have a mental breakdown if I have to hear the word “grandbaby” again today.” “Grrr—” She began to say the forbidden word when I damn near tripped over my own feet to get a look at the man that stopped in front of my glass office door. “Dolly Jane, what the hell are you—” Muriel stopped in her tracks to inconspicuously look out my see-through door. “Hush up!” I hissed. “Who is that fine specimen of a man standing outside my door?” Thank goodness he stopped to talk to a couple of other people, because if he looked to his right, he would see two women that were about to fall off their rockers to check out his fine ass. “That’s Beckham Donaldson,” Muriel answered. “I’ve never seen him in person, but damn.” “That is Beckham Donaldson? My new boss?” I asked out loud to assure confirmation from my all-knowing best friend. “Yes, and you have a meeting in less than fifteen minutes with said boss, so get your shit together.” “Shit!” It hit me right then that I would have to spend Friday afternoons with this man. “How do I look?” “You look great. Your tits look big in that blazer.” “What the hell am I supposed to do with them? They are like cattle; I can’t rope them back in once they get out.” I started messing with my size D’s ensuring nothing was inappropriately popping out. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” she responded. “Shit. Okay. I look fine though?” I asked again. “You look amazing. Now, go, and try not to think of him naked.” “Christ almighty, Muriel. I’m going to hell in a hand basket.” “Yes, you are, and I will have the seat next to you. Now go.” Muriel was pushing me out of my office door when I turned in the direction of the boardroom and caught Beckham Donaldson walking down the hall only six feet in front of me. His hands were in his suit jacket pockets, which exposed his perfect backside in his snug suit pants. I almost cat-called in appreciation, but I was a damn professional, and I could handle myself in that manner, or so I thought. When I got to the conference room, I noticed I was the last one in, while all the other good boys and girls of the legal team were sitting in their seats all attentive and prepared while Beckham made his way to the head of the conference table, standing and shuffling papers around. I froze for a moment until he looked up and cleared his throat. “Won’t you join us, Miss...” He was most likely questioning the spicy disaster, standing awkwardly trying not to draw attention to herself. Oh, shit! He was talking to me. “Good.” I responded. “Well, Miss Good, won’t you have a seat?” There I was, front and center, albeit unintentionally this time. The conference room wasn’t as large as one would think, and the last seat available was to the right of the man himself. I tried my best to scoot my ample back side through the tight squeeze of folks that were already seated and the other table holding water pitchers and glasses. As if I couldn’t be any more embarrassed, my bubble butt knocked over a glass, but thank God, it didn’t break. I hurriedly picked it up and apologized, then shoved the rest of the way to my seat, not realizing Beckham Donaldson’s eyes had not left me. Fuck me! I really know how to make a fantastic first impression. I thought to myself while noisily attempting to get myself together, organizing the papers placed in front of me. “Are you good, Miss Good?” He asked. “Yes. All... good.” When he spoke, it was as if my mind turned off and my lady parts turned on. He was gorgeous, like lip smackin’ after a fresh glass of sweet tea delicious. He was tall, maybe six feet, extremely well built, but not too muscular. You could tell he wasn’t a stranger to the gym. Dark, perfectly coiffed hair. And oh, those gorgeous silver-blue eyes. Surprisingly enough, I was paying attention to what he was saying. He spoke well, but a lot of what he said was a load of crap. I wonder if anyone else noticed that he did not know what he was talking about. Knowing this group of sheep, they would say nothing, which was why Orion had me around. I was a straight shooter with him. No bullshit ever came from my mouth. I looked around the room, watching my colleagues nodding their heads at this load of hogwash. Orion Donaldson would roll over in his grave if he knew what his son was saying. It really got under my skin, and I was getting mad. If there was one thing I knew, it was how to do my job and do it well. I knew more about this business than any of these old coots sitting at the table. The best part was that I wasn’t afraid of them, and especially not Beckham Donaldson. And so I interrupted before he dug himself deeper into a hole. “With all due respect, sir, I am going to have to disagree with most of what you are saying.” He stared at me intently with those icy blue eyes. There were no daggers being thrown my way. It was more like shock that I called him out, and he looked worried. “Well, Miss Good, maybe you would like to elaborate further after I am finished with this meeting—in my office.” I swear I heard a collective gasp from the peanut gallery like we were all in the fourth grade, and I had just gotten in trouble and sent to the principal’s office. “Wherever you would like, Mr. Donaldson,” I responded with a sexy smirk, which he shot right back. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, I was a flirtatious person, but not like this, especially at work. After the meeting, I headed back to my office, waiting for the call from Beckham’s assistant to head to his office. Muriel was waiting for me, sitting in my chair behind my desk. “Don’t you have your own desk?” “Oh, no, I need the details. I heard you made quite the spectacle of yourself.” It amazed me sometimes how fast news spread around this place. “Why are you surprised?” I raised my eyebrow as if suspicious of the fact she didn’t know who she was talking to. “I didn’t expect it to happen the first day he was here.” “What can I say? I move fast,” I shrugged. My phone rang, and I ended up fighting it out of Muriel’s scrawny little hand. “Dolly Good,” I answered. It was Susan, Beckham’s assistant, calling to let me know he was ready for me. Fuck. Muriel got up from behind my desk to grab my shoulders. “I’m going to miss you. I really loved working with my best friend,” she said as she hugged me. “Oh my gosh, stop.” I rolled my eyes. “Go get ‘em tiger.” She smacked my ass, which hurt, as I walked out, and I scowled back at her. Unfortunately, I had a decent elevator ride to stew about how I was going to fix what my mouth got me into. If there was another thing I was good at, it was talking my way out of trouble. Being a police chief’s daughter, I really had to get creative and convincing. Walking off the elevator, I felt a bit better about the situation. The one bright spot being that I could stare into Beckham’s eyes for a few more minutes before I had to depart for my lonely weekend of fun times with my rabbit, Ben & Jerry. “Come in, Miss Good.” He said as I stood outside of his opened door waiting for him to invite me in. “Sit.” He commanded, then began taking off his jacket, revealing his fitted white button up with a deep blue tie. I felt the heat turn up in the room and my throat went dry. He proceeded to remove his cufflinks and slowly rolled up his sleeves to reveal his defined forearms. I gulped again, praying there was enough saliva to stop me from hacking. “Miss Good, I wanted to talk to you about—” “Mr. Donaldson, before you continue, I wanted to first apologize. Good Lord, this mouth of mine, it really gets me in trouble sometimes, especially when it’s something I’m passionate about. My colleagues in the room, they know how I am, and that my outbursts come from a place with the best of intentions. It had occurred to me that, for someone that doesn’t know me, I could come off as somewhat...” I trailed off. “Insubordinate?” He inserted. “Um, I was thinking more... spirited,” I smiled my best beauty pageant smile. “I think you are mistaken, Miss Good. I do know quite a bit about you. My father spoke very highly of you.” “He did?” I asked, somewhat surprised that he had talked about me with his son. I choked back another dry throat cough. “Yes. In fact, he told me that if there was one person that he could trust at this company, it was Dolly Jane Good.” My God, I never got wet hearing my full name, but he sure as shit made it a first. “Wow. I’m honored that Orion would speak so highly of me. He was a great man and mentor. I am so sorry for your loss. I would have loved to pay my respects, but I know it was a private service.” “I appreciate that, Miss Good.” “Please, call me Dolly.” “Okay, Dolly. Back to why we are here. I would like to make a proposal.” A proposal from this man would be a slap in the face to all the neighbors back at home, thinking I would be single for the rest of my life. I would come home with my sexy, CEO fiancé and shove my three carat Tiffany cut solitaire right in their unfortunate faces. “A proposal?” I asked, knowing damn well it wasn’t the proposal I envisioned. “Yes, I want you to be my personal counsel. But, before you answer, hear me out. I need someone like you to help me navigate this company, call me out on my bullshit—like you did today—and above all, give it to me straight like you did for my dad.” “So, you want me to be your assistant?” I said reluctantly. “No. No, I want you to be my advisor. My right-hand man.” “You mean woman,” I snapped back. “Yes, you know what I mean,” he laughed. “I don’t know, Mr. Donaldson.” I was apprehensive about this proposal. I didn’t want to be bringing this man his coffee and bagel order every morning and picking up his dry cleaning. Those dues had already been paid. “Call me Beckham, and I will pay you $150,000 more a year.” “Whoa. Are you joking? You have to be joking.” “I am very serious,” he said as he came closer to me, leaning against the desk in front of where I was sitting. “With all due respect, you ain’t got the good sense that God gave a rock.” He looked confused. “Listen, Beckham, I would love to take $150,000 off your hands, but do you think this is the wisest decision? I mean, you don’t even know me. So, I guess I’m questioning your common sense here.” He let out a sexy chuckle that caused his crossed arms to drop. “Oh, I know you, Dolly Jane.” He shot me a sexy smirk. “More than you think. And if my father trusted you, then I do too.” I avoided making eye contact so that I could process the proposal. “Well?” He was anxiously awaiting my answer. Well, fuck me sideways. I’m going to agree with this. I sighed. “Yes. I’ll do it.” He clapped his hands together and smiled. Of course, he looked please that he got his way. This was the most positive reaction I got out of a man in a long time. “Perfect. The first order of business is to move your office up here and get you an assistant.” “Wait, an assistant? For what?” “You are in the C-suite now, Dolly Jane. You get whatever you want.” I had this nagging feeling that this was going to be the opportunity of a lifetime topped with a whole lot of trouble.

Chapter 2 Just as I was relishing in the excitement with my new boss, I heard a screeching voice that was like nails on a chalkboard. “Baby!” I quickly stood up and turned around to see a beautiful, tall brunette with subpar highlights throw herself into Beckham’s arms. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, planting playful pecks of kisses all over her lips and neck. I almost gagged. I couldn’t help being green with envy. “I’m sorry. Dolly, this is Kara, my fiancée,” he said, never taking his eyes off her. “Nice to meet you, Kara. Aren’t you just pretty as a peach?” I said, laying the fake southern hospitality on thick. “Nice to meet you, Dolly,” she responded sweetly. “Oh wait, like Dolly Parton? That is too cute.” Clearly, she was being a sarcastic bitch and making fun of my name. “Kara, Dolly is going to be my personal counsel and Chief Legal Officer of Donaldson Reitman.” “You’re a lawyer.” I couldn’t tell if she was asking or if she was shocked. “Bless your heart, have you not met a woman lawyer before?” I snapped back. Beckham, sensing the tension, broke up the exchange of unpleasantries. “Kara, we were just finishing up here. Can you meet me in the car? I will have them bring it around to the front of the building.” “Of course,” she said as she shot daggers in my direction. Then she went to shove her disgusting tongue down Beckham’s throat to assert that he was hers, which was fine with me. Any man that would be so shallow as to marry that half-wit for what I was assuming, her looks was not worthy of an ass and brain like mine. “So, that was Kara,” he said, sounding somewhat embarrassed. “She seems charming.” I rolled my eyes. After ten more minutes of finalizing some logistics for my new position, we parted ways. I went home to my three friends—rabbit, Ben and Jerry—while he went home to that airhead. The weekend went quick. Another two full days on my couch loathing the current state of my love life and thinking about Beckham’s proposal that I rushed to accept. How could I not accept a proposal that doubled my salary, got me a new fancy office right next door to the most gorgeous and engaged man on the planet? I shoved my pillow over my face and screamed. Why me, Lord?

Chapter 3 “Muriel, please, I don’t want to talk about this right now,” I said as I plopped my head down on the conference table in Becks’ office. It has been three months since I took the position of general counsel and the CEO’s personal counsel. My work life was everything I dreamed of when I was thinking of giving up in law school. The office was incredible, with an amazing view of the city. The salary and perks were more than I could have ever asked for. Muriel was not only my best friend, but she was also now my assistant. I couldn’t do my job dealing with Becks without her. She also doubled as my therapist, since I recently needed one to get me through the day. “You must tell me how it went. I know you really connected with this one through text. What could have gone so wrong?” “What could go wrong?” Becks interrupted as he walked in looking as handsome as usual, sipping his coffee out of his “best fiancé ever” travel mug, his intellectually challenged soon-to-be wife bestowed upon him for Valentine’s Day. “Oh, Dolly had a date Saturday and is holding out on us.” Muriel really had a big mouth and now I knew neither of them was going to let this go. “A date?” he questioned. “Don’t act so surprised,” I snapped. “I do date, you know.” “I know you date, but I thought you had given up per the last disaster with the loud chewer,” he chuckled. Becks seemed to remember things about me that I try to block out so that he can bring them up in later conversations just to piss me off. “Ah, yes, Mark, the loud chewer. It was the lip smacking with the audible sloshing of food.” I gagged. They both made a disgusted face. “Well?” He asked. “Don’t hold out. We need to hear about this date.” “Yeah, Doll. Answer your boss.” I loved Muriel, but sometimes she was a real asshole. “There really isn’t much to tell. It ended after the appetizer.” “The appetizer?” Becks asked, looking confused. “Please, tell us more.” “We went to a sports bar to watch sports.” “Which normally happens at a sports bar,” he responded sarcastically. “It was all going fine until the server came over and asked if we wanted to put in for an appetizer. I was starving because I hadn’t really eaten all day. He said he didn’t want anything, and I quickly interrupted and said that I would like to have the fried pickles. Y’all know me and how I love me some fried pickles with ranch dressing.” “They are delicious.” Becks stated in agreement—and to be a bit patronizing. I knew he was expecting the story to get more ridiculous and over dramatic as I make so many things out to be, which was also part of my charm. Muriel shook her head in agreement. They are both entirely too much alike in so many ways that it feels like I’m getting ganged up on sometimes. “Go on,” Muriel prompted to keep me on task. “So, while the server was standing there, he said ‘do you think you should be ordering an appetizer?’ She looked at me and her eyes got wide, like she was in shock he would even say something like that.” Muriel gasped. “Oh my God, Doll, did you reach over and punch him straight in the face?” “Why would he say something like that?” Becks responded with confusion, like he didn’t even know my weight was an issue I had been struggling with. The shallow men in the even shallower dating pool were not looking for thicker women like myself. No matter if I was a successful, strong, funny—I could go on—woman. “Bless your little heart. You can be so naïve sometimes.” “I just don’t understand why he would say that to you. Was he being cheap?” Becks said, still not catching on. “Really?” Muriel shot him a questioning look, dumbfounded at his complete lack of subtext recognition. “Please don’t make me rehash this. I already feel like shit about it,” I begged, as I caught my head again in my hand. “I’m sorry, but I simply don’t get it. You ordered fried pickles, and he questioned it for some reason. I don’t get it.” “Becks, it was because he thought I shouldn’t be eating foods like fried pickles. Because he thought I was fat.” Saying it out loud to him was brutal, knowing full well he would never even give a curvier woman like me a second look if he were single and on the prowl. I looked at his expression, and it was a look of sheer horror. I’m sure he felt awful making me say it. Muriel shot daggers at him. He was outnumbered, and he would have to tread lightly. “Clearly, that guy was a piece of shit, and I really hope you punched him. Hell, if I was there, I would have done it myself. No one messes with my Dolly Jane.” I shot a look across the table to Muriel. Without speaking, we both picked up on the “my Dolly Jane” comment. I mean, we had gotten close over the last quarter, but not to where he could claim me as his. Albeit, I would have loved to be his. After a few seconds of awkward silence, I forced myself to speak. “I appreciate that, Becks.” I smiled at him and got caught in those eyes that I love. He reciprocated with his sexy smirk. “I really hope you got the fried pickles,” he chuckled. “Or I will have to take you to get some today for lunch.” “I did get them. And after I ate them, I had a few beers. Then, to close it out, I said I had to go water my cactus and left him with the check.” They both laughed.


Chapter 4 Despite my crumby love life, work has continued to be amazing. Being general counsel for a major New York development firm had changed my life. I moved into a badass apartment a few blocks from the park on the Upper West Side. It was a game changer moving into a place that was huge compared to my tiny studio, five-floor walkup. Ever since the pickle date heard around the world, I have been trying to stick to a healthier lifestyle. Since I was so close to the park, I started running to my favorite little coffee shop in the morning. Every day, I ran a bit farther and was proud of myself. It was great I could start doing the new morning ritual because my commute to the office was so short and made possible by the private car provided by the company at Becks’ insistence. He treated me extremely well, and I did the same in return. I worked my ass off for him. He was really blossoming as a CEO that rivaled his father. I must admit, in the beginning, I wasn’t optimistic, but he had proven me wrong. The early May weather was perfect for my morning run to the coffee shop. I put on a pair of black leggings, a white sports bra, and a cropped black hoodie. I wasn’t messing with my hair, so I pulled it up in my UGA hat and took off toward the park with Nicki Minaj’s Boss Ass Bitch blaring in my ear buds. When I arrived at The Bean, there was a line, so I kept listening while I scrolled through social media. Not aware of my surroundings, someone tapped on my shoulder, and I jumped. “Holy shit!” I screamed loud enough so that everyone looked at me as I turned around to see Becks standing there in his running gear. I never saw him out of his usual suit and tie. It was an entirely unique experience. I quickly took my ear buds out, not realizing how loud the music was. Of course, Nicki’s Megatron was on, which wasn’t the best song to be blasting while in public when trying not to get noticed. “What the hell are you listening to, Dolly Jane?” He laughed as I fumbled with my phone to turn it down. “It’s Nicki Minaj. You do know who she is?” I said sarcastically in response to his slightly judgmental tone. “I know who she is.” He stepped closer to me, towering over my five-foot, two-inch frame. I normally had three-inch high heels on because being a short woman in my line of work was not conducive to being taken seriously. The taller I could make myself, the better. “Let me buy your coffee,” he said. “That’s not necessary, Becks.” “I insist.” He said as he put his arm out to lead me to the counter to order. “Fine.” After we received our drinks, we went outside and walked around the park. “What are you doing over this way? Don’t you live in Soho?” “Actually, I just moved,” he stated. “How did I not know that you were moving?” I exclaimed. “I am your personal counsel, after all.” “Yeah, well. Kara, the agent, and the lawyer handled everything with the move,” he responded, looking a bit defeated. “She hasn’t moved in yet. I think she is waiting until after the wedding.” “Oh, Kara. Got it.” I didn’t want to talk about that little tart, so hopefully he took the hint. “Wait, I should be asking you the same thing. Did you move?” He perked up. “Yes, I did. See, my boss gave me this big fat raise in exchange for daily entertainment. So, I moved out of my shit apartment, moved to the Upper West Side in a spacious one-bedroom with a view to die for.” I over southern’d my accent and animated myself more than usual. “Oh, so we are like neighbors now? I get to run into you during non-work hours?” “There aren’t many of those ‘non-working’ hours left since my boss is a lil’ needy.” He laughed again and took a sip of his coffee. “You make me laugh, Dolly Jane.” We stopped walking, and he turned to me. Again, with those fucking gorgeous eyes, and when he says my name, I just about melt. “I love that about you. The fact that you are who you are, and you are so genuine and real. So, refreshing.” I couldn’t keep staring at this man or I would grab his shirt and throw his sexy ass down in the middle of Central Park. I wasn’t too much of a lady to do it, either. Against my inner hoe’s wishes, I began walking again, since I had no clue what to say. It was a first for me. “What do you think of Kara?” Becks sipped his coffee again. I could tell this was a serious question. And judging by his tone, which I have become a professional at deciphering, he seemed upset or unsure about something. “I don’t think it’s my place to offer an opinion on such things,” I responded, being sure to tread lightly with this topic. “But it is your place. This is the kind of input I need from you. You are the only person I trust.” I immediately caught on that the man needed a friend more than anything right now. My thoughts on the topic were something I would need to put through a few filters before saying them out loud. “Well, give it to me straight. What do you think of her?” I sighed as we stopped to sit down on a bench and turned toward him, trying to be as genuine as possible. “Kara is absolutely gorgeous. She has a timeless classy style, perfect body, great hair. I am sure she will make a stunning bride.” “Come on. That wasn’t a Dolly Jane response. Give it to me.” Oh hell, I wanted to give it to him—more than he even knows. I sighed again and closed my eyes to get the energy I needed for the response he requested. “Okay. For one, I think she is as dumb as a box of rocks. Two, she is about as shallow as a puddle during a drought, and three, she is a gold digger.” I cut myself off before I got myself in to trouble. “Is that all?” He questioned, knowing damn well I probably could have gone on. “Becks, I am being completely honest with you because you asked. And overall, I would have to say Kara is a bit cunty.” “Cunty?” He asked. “I was trying to be nice about it, but yes, she is, in fact, a cunt.” “Wow, okay,” he chuckled, as if not phased or mad that I called his wife-to-be, one of the worst things to call a woman. I mean, that word is a fightin’ word, and I didn’t care, because he asked for the truth. I knew Kara was horrible the first time we met. My judge of character was impeccable, or so I’ve been told. I overhear them fighting about dumb stuff all the time. Their conversations, when she drops by at the office, were full of contempt. They were always questioning each other. There was no trust in that relationship, among other red flags. I had just assumed he wanted the trophy wife, and after she popped out a couple of babies, they would get divorced. She would have half of his fortune, and he would, no doubt, have an heir to the Donaldson throne. “Listen, buddy boy, you asked, and I answered.” “I know, but it was different hearing it from you.” Fuck my life. Now he looked sad. Great, Dolly, way to make a man doubt his already fragile relationship even more. I needed to get out of here before I said something even more horrible. “Okay then. With that, I am going to excuse myself since I must be at work in a couple of hours. I don’t want to get fired.” I stood up to walk away as he grabbed my hand and stared deep into my eyes. I was frozen but melting inside. What the hell was going on? “I could never fire you.” I dropped his hand. “Good to know,” I said as I turn to walk away. “You really think I’m needy?” I heard him yell back at me. Smiling to myself, I held my arm up to wave goodbye without turning back. During the week, Kara showed up several times to visit, and every time, there was yelling coming from my neighboring office. Unfortunately, it was muffled because of the semi-soundproof walls. Muriel had caught me with a glass against the wall the other day trying to make out details of their conversation. After questioning my morals, she joined in as well. I know we were awful, but we couldn’t help ourselves. Plus, Becks wasn’t really engaging too much with me on personal issues. I really hoped he wasn’t upset about the other day.



Chapter 5 “So, what did he say?” Muriel probed. “What did who say?” Becks busted in, looking chippier than he had the past couple of weeks. “The new guy in legal that took over for Dolly. He asked her out.” Muriel blurted. I gave her wide eyes and a look that could kill. I didn’t want him to know about the date. There wasn’t a policy on workplace relationships, but I still didn’t want my boss to know I was going on a date with my replacement. “Drew?” He said with a bit of disgust. His reaction kind of pissed me off. “Yes, Andrew,” I snapped, then looked back to only address Muriel. “He is super cute, polite, and funny, like cheesy funny.” We both giggled, then caught Becks angrily shuffling papers. “Don’t we have some work to do, ladies?” Becks asked, annoyed by our childlike laughter over a man that was not him. I believe his jealousy was showing. Beckham Donaldson was not the center of attention, and I could tell it struck a nerve. “Why, I declare we do.” I did my best breathless Scarlett imitation. And as a result, I got my favorite sexy half-smile out of him. “Okay, in all seriousness, though, we need to talk about the fundraiser. It’s coming up, it’s my first time planning it, and it has to be perfect.” “It better be,” he jokingly threatened. “I am trusting you with my father’s most favorite event. I don’t think he would want anyone else to take it over.” The fundraiser was for a homeless shelter for families. Orion took one of his buildings and flipped it to a one-stop shop for families to get back on their feet. Whether a parent was in jail or rehab, it was a place where families got to be families again. It was the project I admired most and donated time for when I first started. Every year we do a themed gala to raise money for the shelter. This year we had a circus theme—sans wild animals. There would be a big top tent, acrobats, clowns, circus treats, you name it. But what I was really excited about was that it was a formal event where we had to wear something circus-like. No detail was too big or too small. *** A few weeks later, we were in full-swing planning. The fundraiser was a week away, and I was finishing up the last details with the event planners. I had been working a lot of late nights at the office and noticed that Becks was staying later as well. Normally, he left around 6:00 p.m. to be home with his wretched fiancé, but there hasn’t been a rush lately. He has been holed up in his office, trying to run the company just as well as his father. I was proud of him, but I could tell he really needed to let loose. “Hey, boss.” I knocked on his partially opened office door and walked in. He looked up and gave me the biggest smile. “What are you still doing here?” He asked. “I should ask you the same thing. You have been staying mighty late these past few weeks. Is everything okay?” I was genuinely worried about him burning out. “Yeah, just busy. What about you?” “You know, planning this gala fundraiser, trying to impress the boss,” I laughed. “Well, the boss is impressed.” I smiled and walked over to his desk and leaned forward so I could remove all the papers stacked in front of him. “You know, as your personal advisor, I think you need a break. Let’s go have a drink.” He stood up and leaned toward me, close enough that I probably could have moved an inch and my lips would have been smack dab on his. I was getting hot but didn’t back up. “That sounds like a fantastic idea,” he agreed. We ended up a couple blocks over at a martini bar, one too many martinis into some business talk. “Seriously, Dolly Jane, you are really an amazing person. You are incredibly smart, funny, and thoughtful.” “Aren’t you being sweet,” I said, not really knowing how to take a compliment since I didn’t normally get many. “I know you think you aren’t respected, but you are. You are a force, and you have proved it in the last six months. Everyone on the team sings your praises. You truly are DRDC’s ray of sunshine,” he said in a cute southern accent. “Why, Beckham Donaldson, are you turning country on me?” I chuckled. “Maybe,” he laughed. We continued to sip our drinks when he started to say something, then stopped to think about it, as if he was being careful. “How are you and Drew?” I wasn’t expecting that question. “Good. We’ve been on a couple of dates. He is a nice guy, funny and smart.” I shrugged. There really wasn’t much to say. We had been out on a few dates and both enjoyed our time together, but there was very little chemistry between us. He was more like a friend than anything. “Is he your date to the gala?” “Yes, Andrew Alden asked me to the gala, and I accepted.” I smiled. “It will be a novel experience going with someone. The last two years I went stag, so I’m looking forward to having someone to dance with.” “Will you save one dance for me?” Becks genuinely looked like there was a possibility I would say no. I didn’t understand what was going on between us right now. Maybe it was the alcohol? “Won’t your fiancé get mad if you are dancing with your lawyer?” “I really don’t care if she does.” I wasn’t going to push the issue any further. So, I ordered us another round of martinis. “You know pretty much everything about me, but I feel like I don’t know much about you pre-DRDC.” Becks knew a good bit about the Dolly I am now, but really had no clue about my life before me working at the company. I was surprised he asked. “There isn’t much to tell.” “Oh, I know that’s not true. Tell me about where you’re from. Your parents. Siblings.” “I am from Madison, Georgia. Which is small, and beautiful, and known for its historic architecture. You would love it.” I never saw Becks so attentive and excited to hear me talk in the six months I had been working for him. “I’m an only child. My daddy was the chief of police and my mama was a stay-at-home mom and homemaker. She volunteers a lot at the church. She is extremely religious, and you could imagine how that relationship works with me as her daughter.” We both laughed. “My dad passed away five years ago from a heart attack.” “I’m sorry.” He said. “Thank you, I appreciate that. But Becks, there is something I want to say to you. When your father passed, it was like losing my second dad. He was such a good man. I want you to know how much he talked about you and loved you.” He looked away, and I could tell he was getting emotional. “Thank you. That really means a lot. Especially when I think I’m never going to be as good as he was at running the company.” “I think you might be wrong about that. You are doing an amazing job. Maybe even better than your dad. He would have been so proud of you.” The man beamed at me. He needed to hear that from someone. “Okay, now back to you. College?” “You know I went to UGA.” He shook his head, motioning for me to continue about my college experience. “What you might not know is that I had a cheerleading scholarship. I was a flyer.” “A flyer?” He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, you know, one of the girls that gets tossed up in the air. Of course, that was forty pounds ago.” “Okay. This has been bothering me.” He interrupted. “I don’t want to upset you, but I must ask. What is the obsession with your weight? You have been making comments ever since the pickle date.” “Ah, the pickle date.” I shook my head. “You know, I have body image issues stemming from going from a tiny cheerleader body to a curvy lawyer body.” “You shouldn’t have any issues, Dolly Jane. You look perfect to me,” he said, stroking my cheek. I knew this was wrong, but if that man wasn’t engaged, I would take him home right now and fuck him to sleep. How is this even fair? The one man on this earth that is perfect in every way thinks I am perfect too, but is engaged to a stupid skank witch that has no idea what she has in a future husband. I was getting so angry at the situation that I was almost in tears. “Um, I think I am going to get going. I have an early meeting tomorrow. Thank you for the drinks,” I said, trying my best to look away and get out of there as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t see me cry. Once I pushed out of the bar, I started to speed walk as the tears streamed down my face. I wanted to scream out that it wasn’t fair. I loved Becks more than anyone or anything ever. Stopping to catch my breath, I heard a voice calling my name. It was Becks. Shit. I had to wipe these tears away. I couldn’t let him see me cry. “Dolly. Wait!” He finally caught up. “Yeah?” I said, doing my best to cover up that I had been bawling my eyes out. “What’s wrong? Did I say something? Are you crying? Why are you crying?” He said as he put his hands on my shoulder to inspect my face. I’m certain that it was giving away the fact that I was having a small mental breakdown. I closed my eyes and couldn’t fight back the tears anymore. “No. No, don’t cry.” He said, putting his hands on my cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” He sounded panicked, but I couldn’t let him know why. “This isn’t fair, Becks.” “What isn’t fair?” I knew after I said what I was going to say, I might as well quit my job because things would never be the same. But I couldn’t take it anymore. This is mostly his fault. I was fine watching him from afar, being the friend and not the leading lady. He constantly made me think I was maybe more than that and gave me false hope. “I can’t do this. I have to go.” I broke from his grasp and the prison of his perfect eyes and ran off. Yes, I chickened out. No, I was not proud of it.


Chapter 6


Over the next few days, Becks tried to get me alone. No doubt to talk to me about the spectacle I made of myself the other night. I purposely blew him off. I didn’t have it in me to tell him how I felt, especially knowing it would ruin everything we already had. The worst thing was, I didn’t even tell Muriel how I was feeling. How do you even say that you are madly in love with your engaged boss out loud?


The day of the gala finally arrived, and I ran to the office to pick up some items I needed for tonight. When I got in, there was an enormous bouquet of the most beautiful peonies I had ever seen. They were in pink and purple pastels with huge white ones scattered about. I opened the little card on the plastic holder.


Save a dance for me. -B


My heart skipped a beat, but then I quickly remembered that he wasn’t mine and never would be. If I danced with him tonight, I would have to do it as a colleague or a friend. Nothing more. It was a lie I was telling myself that would help with my self-preservation so that I could make it through the night with all the pieces of my heart intact.


Muriel and I made appointments at our favorite spa to get pampered all day before the gala. We got the works—massages, facials, make-up and hair. If anything, tonight, I would look amazing and have the confidence I needed to face Becks and Kara together.


Muriel and I parted ways to go home and put our gowns on and await our dates to pick us up. Andrew was a great date for tonight. He was sweet and attentive, everything I could ask for.


When I put on my red corset satin gown with an extremely high slit up the leg, I felt transformed into one badass bitch. I topped it off with a ringmaster hat and long black gloves. The dress hugged my curves perfectly and lived up to its three-thousand-dollar price tag. I completed the look by putting on a pair of black strappy heels that were higher than my usual.


We arrived at the gala right on time. Andrew looked great in his black suit with a tiger print bow tie. It was the perfect touch. Muriel’s dress was a beautiful sequin zebra print mermaid dress. She looked stunning, as always.


My eyes scanned the crowd for any sign of Becks and his retched fiancé, but they were nowhere to be found. After an hour or so of rubbing elbows with clients and colleagues, the band announced Becks would say a few words. I helped him write his speech and I have to say it was a work of art.


Finally, Becks stepped up to the podium. He looked fucking amazing. The gold and red jacquard floral peak lapel jacket, red vest and bowtie, and fitted black pants, was the most Becks way to do circus style.


I pushed my way closer so that I could get a better view. He found me in the crowd and smiled. He spoke the words we wrote together about his dad and the shelter, and I got emotional again. The effort it took to fight back the tears was gone when he locked eyes with me once again when he spoke the most meaningful words in the speech. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him right then and there.


After the speech, everyone clapped, and the band played music once again. Drew was coming toward me with a glass of champagne in his hand. “Cheers to the most beautiful woman and the most amazing event,” he said as he clinked my glass.


“You are the sweetest.”


He was really one of the nicest guys had I ever met. The problem was, I had no desire to have sex with him or touch him or even kiss him. It would be so incredibly easy if I had the feelings for Andrew that I had for Becks. But really, what fun would that be?


The music went from a fast-paced dance song to a slower song. Andrew was ready to take my hand to dance until Becks approached us.


“Drew.” Becks nodded to say hello. “Do you mind if I dance with Dolly for just one song?”


“Sir, you will have to ask Dolly.” Andrew was so damn wonderful. I truly wished I wanted to jump his bones as much as I wanted Becks.


“Okay,” I answered as Becks took my hand to lead me onto the dance floor.


“You look amazing,” he said as he placed his hand on my lower back and pulled me close. My breath hitched. His other hand traced down my right arm to grab my other hand and left goosebumps in its wake. I began breathing heavily, feeling an insurmountable need for this man.


“You look amazing as well.”


“Thank you,” he responded. “You have been avoiding me this week, Dolly Jane. I don’t like when I don’t get to talk to you or see you, and after the other night, I think we really need to talk.”


“Becks, stop messing with me, okay? I can’t take it anymore.”


“What do you mean, messing with you?”


“Stop playing dumb, Becks. You know how I feel about you. After the other night, seeing me cry over the fact that I will never be the one you want. Why do you want to talk about something that is just going to hurt me?”


“Dolly, I don’t know how you feel. You have this impenetrable wall up with me. And the other day—when I saw you crying—that was the first time you ever showed me anything.”


“This is a useless conversation.” I snapped. My reaction was to guard myself so that I wouldn’t get hurt. “Shouldn’t you be dancing with your fiancé? Speaking of, where is she?”


“I don’t care. I am with you right now. Nobody else.”


Suddenly, I recognized the song playing—“You & I” by John Legend. Everything about this moment would have been perfect if it wasn’t for one insignificant detail that was walking toward us looking madder than a wet hen. Before I could warn Becks, she was already standing between us.


“What is going on here?” she bit.


“I’m dancing with Dolly.”


I wanted to leave, believe me, I did, but I love a good dramatic scene, and I am excited to see how this dumpster fire is going to play out.


“I am your fiancé, Beckham. I don’t think you need to be dancing with this trashy bitch.”


“Uh huh.” I stepped up to her, madder than hell at the trashy comment. Bitch, I could handle, but trashy? No way. “I will look over the fact that you just called me trashy so that you can save yourself the embarrassment of assuming something that you shouldn’t.”


“Do you think I am that stupid?” I really wanted to answer her, but I kept my mouth shut and let her finish. “I see the way you are always looking at him. You think you can have him, but you can’t. He would never want someone like you. Like honestly, that dress just screams southern trash.” She said as she pretended to trip and spilled her glass of wine all over the front of my satin dress. I look over at Becks standing in shock. If Becks knows one thing about me, he knows I will cut a bitch.


As much as I wanted to smash my champagne glass and go for this bitch’s jugular, I checked myself because this event wasn’t about me, or Becks, or cunty Kara. It was about Orion’s vision for the shelter and to bring families together.


No, murder wasn’t the answer this time. Cooler heads prevailed, and I went for her terrible hair extensions, yanking a clump as hard as I could in an effort to tear them out. It wasn’t hard. She would need to fire her stylist for the terrible job.


“Now we’re even, bitch,” I said as I turned around to grab my purse and phone from Andrew and walk straight out of the tent.


I said nothing to anyone, including Andrew. Getting out of there was my top priority. I didn’t want to stick around since there was a crowd gathering around us and people were clearly aware I had a gigantic wet mark down the front of my dress that just so resembled the shape of a very erect penis. The night was completely on brand for Dolly Good, spicy disaster.


My feet were killing me by the time I was ten blocks away from the gala. I grabbed an Uber, but I didn’t want to go home, so I went to Central Park and cry this night out sitting on my favorite bench. The bench Becks and I frequently sat during our morning coffee meetups.


Everything else aside, I just realized my expensive designer dress was completely ruined. I lost my composure again and sobbed. How could this night go so wrong? I could never face any of them again, especially Becks. And Andrew. He would probably never speak to me again. I ripped my purse and phone out of his hands without a word and stormed out. Being empathetic to the position I had put him in, I wouldn’t blame him one bit if he never spoke to me again.


I leaned forward to catch my head in my hands, trying to mask my ugly-crying face. And for the next fifteen minutes, let my mind go blank as I released all the emotion I have been holding in for so long. It took me a few seconds to realize someone was standing next to the bench, and when I looked up, I saw Becks’ face illuminated by the street lamp behind us. Heavens to Betsy, he looked amazing, and it angered me. Don’t ask me why, but it did.


“What are you doing here?” I sucked back my tears and reached down deep to grab any sort of sass that I had left.


“Can I sit down?” he asked.


“It’s a free country,” I said as I sat up, slumped down, and crossed my arms.


“I am so sorry about tonight. Kara was way out of line.”


“Ya think?” I said sarcastically.


“Dolls, I think we need to stop beating around the bush here and be honest with each other.”


“Honest about what?”


“Stop it. You know what I mean.” Becks was getting a little annoyed. I could tell because he always fidgeted with his hands when he was annoyed.


“No, I don’t, Becks. Please enlighten me.” If this was going to go down in a pool of flames, I was going to make him jump first. I was done saying anything about the way I felt about him. It was his turn.


He took a deep breath.


“Dolly,” he turned to look at me. My goodness, this man could render me breathless with one look. “I have loved you from the first time you walked into my conference room—maybe even before.”


Did he just say he loved me? I had no words and was speechless for the first time in my life. He saw the expression of shock on my face and my hands shaking. Maybe it was from the adrenaline from wanting to attack Kara with a prison shank earlier, or maybe it was from all the pent-up feelings I had for him. In an effort to calm me, he grabbed my hands, but it only made it worse.


“My father always talked to me about you. He told me how smart and what an incredible person you are. I even crept on your social media months before I even met you because I needed to find out all I could about you. My dad would always say he would have loved for me to end up with someone like you. Someone that would challenge me to be a better man. Someone that would be as equally driven, but also knew when to make me stop and enjoy life. When he passed, I wasn’t going to take the CEO position because I was terrified. I would never live up to his—and everyone else’s—expectations. But I remembered him telling me that you had been there for him, and I hoped that you would be there for me. It was you, Dolly Jane, that inspired me to do this. And it is only you I want by my side, every step of the way.”


Oh, shit, no! I couldn’t stop it. The faucets turned on, and I was sobbing uncontrollably.


Beckham Donaldson just touched every part of my soul with his confession. It was probably the most perfect thing he could have said to me, but there was still a huge problem. He was getting married. How could I even take this to heart? I couldn’t because my heart was shattering with every second. I sat with him, knowing he wasn’t mine. So, I did what I always did when it came to Becks. I got up and ran away as quickly as I could, hobbling along with my blistered feet. Damn these shoes! What I wouldn’t give for a pair of sneakers right now.


To add insult to injury, the unpredictable summer weather of New York kicked in and it down poured. Oh, for fuck’s sakes! Why me?


“Dolly Jane! Stop!” I heard Becks’ yell, crossing the street. My feet hurt too badly to run anymore.


“Becks, just let me go. I don’t want to do this right now.”


“I broke off the engagement,” he said, out of breath, looking deliciously wet from the rain.


Meanwhile, I most likely looked like a drown rat with mascara streaks running down my cheeks. But that didn’t matter, because the one thing that was my obstacle no longer existed.


What the hell was I supposed to do now? It caught me completely off guard. The world froze around us.


Becks grabbed my waist and pulled me tightly into him. “Kiss me,” he demanded. Becks never had to ask me to do anything twice, and after all, there was nothing in this world I love more than Beckham Donaldson.


I threw my hands around his neck as his lips connected with mine, carefully exploring and getting to know how our lips reacted to each other’s. In no time at all, we gained comfort knowing that we were both feeling the same, and the kiss deepened. Our tongues played a cute game of cat and mouse. It was perfectly pure but so sexy all at the same time. After a few moments, we came up for air, laughing and smiling at each other.


“Come home with me,” he stated. It wasn’t a question, and if it had been, my answer would have been yes.


Fortunately, my subconscious had me running toward Becks’ apartment building, which we were a block away from. Unfortunately, my feet were bleeding from the shoes.


“Becks, I want to come home with you, but unfortunately, I can’t walk anymore. My shoes are killing my feet.” He smiled, then kneeled to unhook the straps of my shoes. I held onto his shoulder to steady myself as he teasingly ran his hands up and down the back of my thighs as he moved from one foot to another. He had no clue what he was in for. After my shoes were off, he hoisted me over his shoulder effortlessly, like I weighed nothing. I laughed as he began speed walking to his building with me slung over his shoulder.


“Good evening, Mr. Donaldson,” the doorman said as he opened the door. “And good evening, miss.”


“Good evening!” I yelled, laughing, as we passed over the threshold.


When we made it to the elevator and the doors opened, he put me down. And when those gold doors closed, we unleased all the pent-up fire of six months. Becks grabbed my face gently as our lips connected again. This time, it was hunger and need for each other. He pushed me against the wall as his hands moved down to my waist and back up. When the elevator stopped and opened, he picked me up again and carried me into his penthouse.


“I will give you a tour later,” he said as he practically jogged to his bedroom.


He put me down right in front of the two floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Central Park.


“This view is breathtaking.”


“No, you are breathtaking.” He answered as he planted gentle kisses down my neck. It hadn’t really occurred to me we were both soaked from being in a downpour. “I think we need to get you out of that dress.” I could tell he had a smirk from his reflection in the window.


“Mr. Donaldson, I reckon you better get to work.” And he did, slowly unhooking the back of my corset dress. I wondered if he had experienced unhooking corsets because he did it effortlessly. It turned me on even more.


My dress dropped, exposing my breasts. I still had my back to him, and I slid the dress all the way down to my ankles, leaving nothing but my black lace thong. He then traced his fingertips, gently gliding them over my thighs, stomach, nipples and shoulder. A trail of goosebumps followed the path, and as a result, I let out a small moan.


“Do you like that?” he whispered into my neck.


“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. This man nearly brought me an orgasm by a gentle touch, and I had no chance of anything else he would do to me.


I turned around to take my turn, assisting with his clothing removal. I started unbuttoning his vest, then his shirt. I got annoyed with the hard-to-maneuver buttons and just ripped it open.


“Why Miss Good, rushing things a bit, aren’t we?” He flashed his cocky smirk. Mirroring him, I flashed one right back. Throwing his shirt to the side, I took in the top half of his body, running my hands over his perfect abs, tracing my fingers over his pectoral muscles and over his biceps. In return, he threw his head back and let out a sexy growl. “God damn it, you drive me crazy.” I laughed as I moved my hand back down to his pants.


I would not make this easy for him. Six months of having him parade around was like dangling a big, juicy steak in front of a starving tiger. I was going to enjoy every second of driving him insane.


My hands landed at his hips as I walked around him, gliding my hand around his waist, moving to his hips, then his backside, and I gave it a little slap. He chuckled. Damn, this man had a fine ass.


As I walked back around, I couldn’t help myself but to push into him with my hand on his package. I desperately needed to check out the goods. I was met with absolutely zero disappointment when I felt the length and girth of his rock-hard member. A tinge of anticipation quivered between my legs.


“Do you like that, baby?” He whispered into my hair. I nodded and unbuttoned his pants. As I dragged them down slowly, I stopped and gave his backside a nice squeeze. Becks stepped out of his pants and kicked them to the side. “My turn.” he growled. Sweet baby Jesus, I loved when he growled.


Becks grabbed the sides of my face and brought me in for a deep kiss and push me toward his bed. I fell backward and moved up the bed like I was his prey and he was about to pounce.


He crawled slowly up to me, never breaking eye contact. Pushing half on top of me, he ran his hand from my cheek to my breasts. He stopped to play with them. It was like giving a kid play dough for the first time. He touched me like he had never experienced a woman with a large chest. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you like those?” I giggled.


“Oh, my God. Yes.” he answered as he began to gently kiss and nibble on my nipples. I moaned in response.


Making his way farther down, he came to my thong, grabbed each side, and ripped them off.


Having a man rip off my underwear with one hand was the biggest turn on. I felt the aching between my legs indicating that even the slightest touch could throw me into a feral release. He slipped his fingers between the throbbing space between my folds. A moan escaped my lips. It had been too long since someone had touched me. Just when I thought I couldn’t handle anymore, he trailed kisses and nibbled his way down my breasts, stomach, and, oh my lord.


My breathing stopped. His kisses teased my inner thighs and the area around my sex. I closed my eyes, not knowing what to expect. This had only happened to me one other time, in college, for thirty seconds.


Becks spread my legs a little further, rubbing my clit, exploring the most private part of my body. Then one finger entered me, and I moaned louder. Then, a second finger entered. He slowly began moving them in and out while still giving my clit the attention it deserved. His lips kissed my folds. Using his tongue to spread me open, he began licking and sucking. “Oh, Becks. Yes. Don’t stop.” His fingers rubbed my spot, and it threw me over the edge. I experienced the most delicious release. I moaned and in response, he made that sexy growl noise.


He came back up to kiss me. “Do you want me inside you?”


“Yes. Please, God. Yes!” I exclaimed.


Becks stood up to pull off his boxers, and my breath hitched again at the sight of his size. He crawled back on the bed, stalking me like his prey. “Spread your legs for me,” he whispered as he began teasing me with his tip, rubbing the tip up and down between my folds. “You are so wet, baby. Are you ready for me?”


Was I ever! I had been waiting for this moment for six months. “Yes.” And with that, he thrusted inside me. In response to the initial tinge of discomfort, I moaned. He caught my gaze, no doubt to see if he had hurt me. By that time, my body had adjusted and was ready for business. I smiled.


Becks forged in and out of me as I matched his thrust with my own. He stopped for a moment. “Are you ok?” I asked, worried.


“Yes, I just don’t want to come yet.” I smiled, knowing that I was pleasing him. We stayed in the same missionary position for a few more seconds when he exited me.


Becks grabbed my hips and positioned me on all fours. Oh, how he already knew my favorite positions. I laughed at his aggressiveness, throwing me into position. “Fuck, your ass is amazing,” he said as he slapped it, then he grabbed it to knead away the sting. I looked back at him and smiled.


He lowered himself down so that he was positioned on top of me with easy access to my neck and mouth. “Tell me you’re mine, baby,” Then, he entered me again, and in this position, I felt every inch of him. I was his. Becks could have whatever he wanted. “I’m yours, Becks.”


In and out, he thrusted from behind as he continued to rub my clit. “Oh God, yes, Becks. Don’t stop.” I yelled.


“Do you want to come with me, baby?” he asked.


“Yes, please. Make me come. I’m so close.” He moved in and out, harder and harder, while his hand moved faster between my legs. I was so close. “I’m so close,” I yelled.


With every thrust, I felt it build up in my core. Just when I thought I had a few more seconds to fight it, Becks tensed up, and as a reaction, I did as well. We both released at the same time. Waves pulsing from our bodies. I had never experienced an orgasm like that before.


We both collapsed, and he pulled me in to lie on top of his chest. “I love you so much,” he whispered. I almost came again in reaction. Becks could simply say anything to me, and it could thwart me into the big “O.”


“I love you, Becks.” It was the first time I had said it—to anyone.


As we lay there looking out at the city, I wondered what would happen next for us. What would it be like to be in a relationship with Becks Donaldson? How would this affect our relationship at work? I had so many concerns and questions swirling around in my head.


“Baby, it’s going to be amazing. This is our happily ever after,” he said, then he kissed my head.


The fact that he already knew what was going on inside my head reassured me it was going to be our happily ever after, but there was that small part of me that had this wee feeling that it might not be as easy as we think.



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