Let's Play A Dirty Ass Game, Mr. CEO

Chapter 53: TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT

LAURA

I spent the next few days a bundle of nerves, especially ever since Tristan gave me the details of the first private strategy dinner.

I’d pondered over it too much...obsessed about it at every given opportunity. I wondered if it would be wiser to pull out now, than to test my limits with the man who broke my heart in a way or two.

But my body wouldn’t stop buzzing with want. So I arrived at the closest, most logical conclusion. Lust, which wouldn’t let me breathe until I shoved my fingers in the fire and let the heat consume me.

Work had been busy and hectic, but somehow, my mind still found ways to wrap around Tristan Pierce. While sticking the pins into a client’s dress during a fitting session earlier today, my mind had drifted to the night he sent me that photo of his chest...how he’d urged me to touch myself. And in the same vein, the pin had slipped and sank into the client’s skin.

I had to apologize repeatedly for my absentmindedness, beating myself up silently for the rest of the day.

By the time I got home on the third day of my nervous streak, I collapsed into bed and squeezed my eyes shut for a long time, trying to blur out every trace of Tristan from my mind.

But how was that even possible when the first strategy dinner was just a few hours away!?

I bolted upright, my eyes flying open. "That’s right," I muttered. "I still haven’t decided on the right outfit."

It was another torture, trying to figure out the best outfit for the evening. I didn’t want something that screamed my jarred nerves at first glance. Neither did I want something that screamed just how much effort I’d put in. Or how much I wanted him, and wanted to look good for him.

So I hurried into my walk-in closet, and the first dress that caught my eye was the burgundy dress Tristan had gifted me at the gala, a few weeks back. The same one I designed after a mad inspiration came to me in the middle of the night over a glass of wine.

I hesitated for a moment as I stared at the dress, wondering about the worst thing that could happen if I wore it to meet with Tristan for our first private strategy meeting ever.

Apparently, first impressions mattered. So whatever tone I set might just be what we flowed with for the rest of the strategy dinners to come.

Would I want him to stare at me all night rather than focus on the strategy plans? Would I rather he took the dress off, instead?

It was just a dress, but Tristan could read some kind of meaning into it. Wasn’t that the idea?

A wicked urge to tease him consumed me. The urge to torture and torment me, so he felt what I felt.

So I picked out the burgundy dress and placed it against my body in front of the mirror. It had a decent slit, but only I knew the extent of its decency.

As I watched my reflection, I knew just what shoes would compliment this vulnerable-yet-powerful look.

Tristan wanted private strategy dinners. That he would get.

My phone pinged on the bedside table, and I immediately hurried to it, expecting a text from Tristan.

°°°

"Remind me why we would be having private dinners, just us two?" I demanded as I made my way to the reception desk of Le Francine, the heels of my stiletto sandals clicking against the marble floors.

"I want you to be comfortable when we brainstorm on how to move forward as a partnership," Tristan’s cool voice drifted into the speaker. "We can call it off, do whatever you want."

I paused in my strides, studying my reflection in the glass wall. "So, you don’t want this?"

"I never said that."

"What are you saying, then?"

He heaved a sigh and said. "Just come up. I can see you’re here already."

I whirled in surprise, wondering where he could see me from.

"This better be worth my time," I snapped into the speaker before I ended the call and flashed the blonde receptionist a smile. "Hello."

"Welcome to Le Francine, ma’am. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes, please. Under Pierce Holdings."

She nodded and quickly clacked away at the keyboard in front of her. Then she handed me a key card. "That’s the dining area. Have a wonderful evening, ma’am."

I flashed her another smile and walked away, wondering just how wonderful of an evening it would or would not turn out to be.

It all depended on how I handled my nerves and the betrayal of my body.

When I arrived at the dining area where Tristan waited by the door, my breath disappeared down my lungs. He leaned against the doorframe, his throat and chest exposed in the midnight black suit he had on. His hair fell over his forehead in effortless strands, his jawline sharp, eyes fierce as they watched me.

He swept one long, lazy glance down my body, midnight blue eyes twinkling as they dilated, a muscle in his jaw throbbing. Then he jerked his head inside. "Come on."

Disappointment seared the walls of my chest as I followed him in and sank into the chair he pulled out for me. "Shall we get started already?" I snapped, dumping my purse and my tablet on the table.

He took his time sitting and relaxing against his chair. His gaze was fixed on my face the entire time. "Are you in a hurry?" he asked in a calm voice. "Is that why you came to our first strategy dinner in the burgundy dress I gave you? To hurry things up while looking like that?"

My cheeks flushed hot and I looked away.

Fuck. Have I ruined it before even starting? Did he not like this? Was he disgusted?

I swallowed a lump down and picked up the menu, refusing to look at him.

"You’re so beautiful in that dress, Laura," he said softly. "It’s torture to just sit here and stare at you, waiting for the moment you’d take the reins and tell us what to do."

I licked my lips and adjusted in the air, breathless. "What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself. You agreed to these dinners on the condition that they would happen on your own terms, your own rules. So, even though I’m losing my mind right now wanting to leap across the table and grab you up, I can’t do anything until you tell me what you want, and how you want it."

I blinked, tongue heavy against the roof of my mouth. "Aren’t we here for strategy purposes?"

His lips curved in a smirk. "That’s exactly why we’re here, Laura."