Page 48 of Mexico Can Choke On It
“We’re moving up the timeline,” he says. “The CEO announcement happens this week. The board wants something concrete for the shareholders meeting.”
I grit my teeth. “That’s not possible. I haven’t finalized things with Heartvest yet.”
“You haven’t told Gavin you’re leaving.”
It’s not a question. It’s an accusation wrapped in disappointment—his signature move.
“There have been complications. But I’m handling it.”
“Don’t tell me you’re handling it, Bryce. Just handle it.”
The line goes dead.
I don’t know what hits harder—the command, or the fact that it didn’t surprise me at all.
Reginald Sterling doesn’t waste breath on feelings or emotion.
Through the closed door, I hear Petra laughing at something Christine said. The sound is so genuinely carefree, it causes a pang in my chest. When was the last time I laughed like that?
I step out and find Petra lounging on the leather couch as if she’s back in her apartment. Legs crossed, one sandaled foot is bouncing to some internal rhythm only she can hear.
Christ.The difference between her and Amanda is staggering. Amanda would have positioned herself elegantly, spine rigid, a flawless ornament, expecting admiration from a distance.
But Petra? She sprawls without a care, wild and defiant, daring the world to question her.
Her words from the limo circle back:“Try the rebel, not the debutante.”
“I have to admit, B. This whole private jet thing? Not terrible.”
She shifts and stretches full length on the cushions with a sigh that sounds like pure sin. My mind paints her in nothing but attitude—those red lips ghosting down my neck, her thighs open, my fist tangled in that dark hair while she begs for—
“When I flew to Greece, this guy sitting next to me decided to have a spa day.” She rolls onto her side. “He whipped out a whole pedicure kit. I’m talking files, clippers, those weird toe separator things. Then—” she mimes an explosion “—toenail shrapnel directly into my pretzels.”
And my penis shutsdown.
“That’s revolting.”
“Exactly! And that’s why I’m glad I got stuck next to him. This is all fine and dandy, but if everything’s always perfect, you miss out on the good stuff. You won’t have any wild travel stories if you only fly private. The chaos… That’s what makes life interesting.”
She shifts on the couch, trying to get comfortable in the sleeveless vest.
“This fancy outfit isnotmade for lounging.”
Her arms go behind her head as she wiggles and—
“Petra.”
“What?”
“Your, um…” I clear my throat, looking anywhere but directly at her. “You’re having a wardrobe malfunction.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. See! This is why Sebastian should have let me wear my bra,” she mutters, hastily adjusting the fabric.
It’s too late. The sight of her exposed breast is seared into my mind. The delicate dusty rose of her nipple contrasting against her pale skin. The perfect curve. Her bud, hard from the cool cabin air.
My tongue—God help me—tingles with the desire to lick her.
That is the final straw. I’m confining myself to the bedroom for the rest of the flight. Nothing good can come from being in such close quarters with Pip.
