Page 17 of Tender Offer (Chance at Love #3)

Preston

“ W e have coffee and scones in our office—the one we pay a shit ton of money for across the street.” William turns up his nose at the pillowy treat he pokes with his fork.

This café is far from hideous. It actually supplies some of our office snacks, unbeknownst to him. He could at least add preserves or clotted cream to the damn thing if he’s going to complain.

I sit back and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “It will do you some good to stretch your legs.”

He smirks. “They stretch just fine over good pus—”

“I’ll take this week’s projections.” If my brother wasn’t phenomenal at his job, he and his ignorant dick would be out of one.

William slides the tablet we use for our weekly meetings across the wooden table.

We’re expanding our brand to Southeast Asia, thanks to the man across from me who’s whining about scones.

My brother is wild in his free time, but he’s one of the reasons the Donnelley Brand has been so successful since I took over.

As COO, William oversees the implementation of our strategic plans and daily operations through our general managers, among other tasks.

He’s my right hand, someone I trust with my life. We give each other shit but hold ourselves accountable.

“Have we filled all of the open positions in Laos?” I roll my eyes when he scowls after taking a sip of coffee.

“I fly out on Monday,” he says, his hand raking through blond waves. “KD should be there to go over budgets since we missed each other last week.”

I look up from the tablet with a stare to remind him not to fuck around. “Stay out of trouble. That goes for the both of you,” I say about our CFO, who primarily works out of our Paris office.

William flashes a devious smirk. “You’re one to talk. If I recall, your New Year’s trip before you ran off to wherever-the-fuck Colorado was more than business.”

I volley back my own. “Do as I say, not as I do.”

The end of last year had me by the balls. Between wrapping up projects, last-minute site demands, and the board, I was up to my ears in stress. Nonna put her foot down and told me I needed a break. She’s half my size and twice my age but still cracks her kitchen towel like a whip.

I spent Christmas with her in Sicily, then swung over to Paris before heading to the States. Pussy has always been a stress reliever. I was face-deep in it and only came up for air when breathing was necessary.

My knee bounces when I remember the rush of nestling myself in the valley of Madison’s thighs at Ravenous.

She was a feast I consumed like a starved man until the pressure from her legs almost sent me into the afterlife with her orgasm.

I had one of my own after I escorted her back to her friend at the bar.

It’s a miracle I still have a penis the way I pulled my dick over the last two nights.

My trousers are tightening now at phantom images of her parted mouth glistening in the candlelight.

“Look at you over there love drunk.” William’s bark of laughter breaks me out of the fantasy. The prick doubles over in his gray suit, silently convulsing at my expense.

A waitress stops at our table to fill up our waters. “He’s fine,” I say in response to her cautious looks at my brother, whose head is now rattling the table.

She hesitates but nods before rushing off.

“You’re such a child.” I toss my napkin at his head, and he uses it to dab his eyes.

“No”—he wipes a stray tear—“you’re completely smitten. Admit it, bruv.”

I lift a shoulder. “Never denied it.”

“Alright.” William checks his watch and stands. “I’ll leave you to it. Some of us have business to conduct.” He reaches in his pocket to pull out money but stops at my headshake. “Let me guess, you bought out the café for your meeting?”

I cut my eyes at him, and his lips spread into a grin.

He laughs. “Tell my future sister-in-law I said hi. Can’t wait to meet her.”

Meetings take up the next two hours on the second floor of the café that’s become my satellite office.

The lower level is open to patrons, but the top floor will stay closed until I’m done.

It’s a bit of a hassle coordinating security, which is why William and I conduct business at the office or approved locations.

I’m finishing up a call when Madison’s voice floats up from the bottom of the wooden staircase. The café itself is small, but there’s enough chatter below to suggest the wait staff are in the middle of a lunchtime rush. I make a mental note to leave through the private entrance.

The sound of heels moving up the steps accelerates my pulse. I adjust my red and blue tie and run my fingers through my hair for the twelfth time. You’d think I was closing my first deal with how I’m acting.

Madison examines the white subway tile walls adorned with hanging plants and vintage photos. This floor is narrower than downstairs, with only six or so tables with metal chairs. I pulled two together for my laptop and paperwork.

Her back is to me, granting me a full view of that thick ass stuffed into a knee-length skirt. It’s been years since I made those cheeks clap, and I miss the beat.

It takes her a minute to notice that the floor extends back to where I am. Her lips part when she peeks over a shoulder.

I stand, button my suit coat, and make my way to her. She hasn’t moved from her spot next to the stairs, and I haven’t taken my eyes off of her. With our height difference, I’m at the perfect vantage point to watch her cheeks heat and her deep breaths stretch her shirt beneath her jacket.

A flashback of me licking and rolling her light brown nipples between my teeth sends blood straight to my dick. The bulge growing behind my zip earns her full attention.

Her tongue drags over her lower lip. “What are you doing here?” The question is for my erection.

“Forgot my measurements?” I keep my tone low and force down a smile.

“I’m meeting someone.” Her brows kiss. “A prospective client.”

“In need of a stylist,” I finish for her and motion to my tables.

“Doubtful.” Her glare sharpens on my custom-fit navy suit.

I grin. “Never said I didn’t have a tailor.” I motion again to the tables. “Please.”

She mumbles, “You don’t need me,” in a strut that does nothing to deflate my erection.

The gentleman who makes my suits is a retired Italian designer in his sixties, and he’s worth every euro. But Madison is still wrong. I need her, more than she knows.

I unbutton my suit coat and mentally prepare for a battle that will be bigger than any boardroom showdown to date.

Having my assistant schedule a consultation under her name was a gamble.

Madison made it clear she wants nothing to do with me.

The fact that she’s still sitting here would make me question it…

if her thoughts weren’t already showing her hand.

Every line on my face is under investigation as she searches for an answer that’s staring back at her. I’m the man from Ravenous, the one who sent her over the edge with his tongue.

The whispered chant of my name on her lips skated across my body, shattering every assumption that a second chance isn’t in the cards. Madison wants me. The proof was in her calling out for me and creaming my face.

She blinks through hooded eyes. “Sorry.”

“No worries, Puff.” She shifts in her seat at the nickname. Good girl . I straighten, widening my legs so our knees touch.

Madison puckers her lips and tilts her chin. “If this is some kind of game, your security won’t make it upstairs fast enough before I throw you out the window. Time is money, and I don’t like mine wasted.”

Masochism might be an unlocked kink the way my dick is petrified against my leg. No one in their right mind would talk to me how Madison just did. She doesn’t give a shit about my title or net worth. It’s one of the things I love about her.

“I assure you, I’m not here to play any games, Ms. Monroe,” I say. “I don’t have a stylist, and I’d like to hire you.”

“Doesn’t look like you need one.” Her accusing gaze hardens the delicate edges of her face.

I grin. “You think I look good?”

“Preston.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I cannot afford for you to play with my business.” Her scowl drops in a plea. “If you’re not serious—”

“I’m not here to play with your head or your heart.” I take her hand. To my surprise, she lets me.

I don’t speak out of fear she’ll snap out of the trance that’s charging the air between us. Being this close to her again stimulates my mind and body.

Contemplation softens her features as she fights to resist the force that’s pulling us back together. To finish what we started, heal what we left undone.

With her eyes on mine and a long breath, she surprises me.

“We do this on my terms. I’m here for the rest of the week, and I can squeeze in a wardrobe analysis.

” Her eyes narrow. “ If our professional agreement works, I’ll consider keeping you on as a client.

You’ll pay an hourly fee for my services.

Flights and accommodations for any special events are on you. ”

“No.”

“No?” Madison’s eyebrow raises.

I commend her for her business prowess, but I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t go after what I wanted.

I roll my bottom lip between my thumb and index finger. Madison tries to maintain her curtness, but I earn a living reading people. Right now, her tone is terse, but the desire pooling behind her dilated pupils and shuttering the breath she fights to steady says otherwise.

“I’d like to hire you for a closer collaboration.” I shift my knees away in preparation for any blows to my shins. “Three months. You here in London, with me.”

Her eyes grow two sizes. “Are you out of your mind? I can’t leave my life behind!”

“Not leave, relocate. Temporarily.”

She scoffs and stares out the window.

“I imagine your clients aren’t all in New York,” I continue, my focus steady on her profile. “You’ll still travel as needed.”

“And where will I stay? Your place?” she deadpans.

I swallow a smirk. “Might I remind you, I own several properties. You’d have access to the finest amenities.”

Silence settles in the middle of the table. I’ll make some concessions, but I have no intention of letting her waltz out of my life. Not without a fight.

Madison processes what a temporary stay would mean. Triumph floods through me when she draws in a deep breath and sighs.

“I have responsibilities in New York. I don’t want to be away that long.”

“You’re free to come and go as you please,” I say.

After a long pause, she traps me in a stare that lets me know I shouldn’t push more than I already have.

“Three months. You pay for my stay and a base salary of seventy-five thousand. Any needs or special events outside of standard work hours activates an hourly rate of two hundred and fifty pounds. I leave when I want to, and I won’t stay beyond our three-month agreement. Do we have a deal?”

Madison’s response is sharp, her tone final. I would’ve agreed to sign away the deeds to all my homes the moment she said yes.

“We have a deal, Ms. Monroe.” I smile and extend a hand, which she shakes. I lean closer. “Just so we’re clear, your rates are too low. Let’s triple your fees. I’m in a different league, and so are you.”

I press a kiss to the tremor in her jaw. “I look forward to our arrangement, Puff.”

Whether Madison knows it or not, she gave me a priceless gift: her time.