A Billionaire's Mistake

43|Ready

Chapter Forty-Three: Ready

Lincoln

After meetings back-to-back all day, I'm thoroughly drained by the time I leave the office. But I promised Margo I'd go out with all of them tonight, and if Sienna is truly getting out of the house, I'll push whatever tiredness I have to the side and shove it somewhere deep, deep down inside myself. This is too important for something as foolish as exhaustion to get in the way.

I let out a sigh as the elevator doors open to my elaborate condo in Manhattan. I'm loosening the tie around my neck with one hand as I carry a bag of Chinese food into the kitchen with the other and set it down onto the marble countertop. The space around me is too clean, and I wrinkle my nose as the smell of lemon wafts from the floor.

Fucking Margo.

There's no other explanation for it. We've been best friends since high school, and I know her fastidious tendencies can get the best of her. It's not that I'm not grateful for it, of course I am, but she didn't have to do this. I have a cleaning crew come every Monday for a reason.

Too lazy to do it yourself? Margo's voice floods into my head, and I smile just at the thought of what her bitchy reply would have been to me saying that. She's always hated the fact that I waste money on things I could simply do myself, but it makes my life easier, and I'm not going to apologize for that. In fact, I have a lovely relationship with my cleaning crew, and they're compensated very nicely because of it.

I hear heels clattering down the hallway. Heels. Heels I haven't heard in months. Sienna's power-stride comes barreling into the kitchen, her head held high and that familiar man-eating grin that I've missed for so long.

My heart swells with pride and uncertainty. Is she ready to do this? Did Margo talk her into doing this too soon?

I've been so accustomed to Sienna wearing sweatpants and baggy t-shirts of mine that I almost forgot what she looks like all dressed up. And it's not that I don't love her in baggy t-shirts of mine — she could wear anything and make it look good — but I'm not used to this. Her freshly curled brown hair falling over her shoulder in elegant waves. Her makeup done heavy with a familiar shade of red lipstick that is making me let out a sigh of frustration just at the sight.

"Well?" She does a twirl with her hands up in the air, and only now do I notice her outfit. "Do you like it?"

A black mini leather skirt emphasizing her long, slender legs and perfect swell of her ass is teasing the fuck out of me. I rake my eyes up to a long-sleeved red bodysuit covered in lace that's see-through, glimpses of her silky skin shining through. My cock is straining against my dress pants, begging and longing for release.

It's been too long since Sienna and I have done anything remotely romantic. Since she's been staying at my place, it's as if she's a roommate, and although I hate it, having her around as a friend is better than not having her with me at all. I'll take what I can get, and given what she's gone through, I never expected anything more than this. I understand it as awful as it makes me feel.

But right now...right now I'm thinking with my cock as it remembers all of those times it was inside of her tight, sweet pussy. How wet she got just at the mere thought of me touching her. The urge to sink down on my knees and bury myself underneath her skirt is so appetizing that I'm not even hungry anymore for the Chinese. I know exactly what I want to eat, and it's nothing on the food pyramid.

I grip my hands on the island, my knuckles turning white. You can't, I'm forced to remind myself. You fucking can't.

"Do you like it?" she repeats.