Taming Sean Davis: Her Billionaire Biker Boss

Chapter 1

Rihanna’s POV

"Oh for fucks sake!!" I exclaimed as the emergency alarm on my desk phone blared at 9:47 p.m.  I was the only one left on the executive floor. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. Everyone except him. Damn.

I grabbed my tablet and hurried toward Sean Davis’s office, heart hammering. This was exactly the kind of moment my father had prepared me for...

"Get close when he’s vulnerable. Find the cracks....we have to bury his company completely"

But as I pushed open the heavy glass door, I realized I was the one cracking.

Sean stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in his large pffice, suit jacket discarded, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his sleeves rolled up. The city lights painted harsh shadows across his broad shoulders. One hand gripped a glass of whiskey so tightly I thought it might shatter. Fuck... he was beautiful to look at.

“Mr. Davis?” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “You called for the files?”

He didn’t turn around immediately. When he finally faced me, his expression was cold, and edged with his usual  irritation. Those stormy grey eyes flicked over my cardigan, modest navy skirt, and ballet flats with clear dismissal.

“You’re late, Princeton,” he snapped. “I asked for those files twenty minutes ago. If you can’t handle simple instructions, I’ll replace you with someone who can.” Damn...someone is icy today.

The sharp tone should have angered me. Instead, heat flushed through my body.

I stared at his eyes for another second, memorizing the exact shade of grey for when I wrote about him again tonight. He was the perfect anti-hero for my dark erotic stories... cold, demanding, and brutally arrogant.

In the recent novel I was writing, “Damien Black,” the ruthless CEO of a luxury motorcycle and supercar empire who took whatever he wanted.

And every night I let Damien do filthy, obsessive things to his innocent secretary while the engine of his blacked-out bike roared in the background.

I hated how easily the real Sean slipped into that role.

“I have them right here, sir.” I placed the tablet and folder on his desk, careful to keep distance between us. “The new superbike line is still vulnerable. Our competitors are undercutting production costs by eighteen percent.”

He let out a low, bitter laugh that sent a shiver down my spine.

“They’re trying to bury me, Princeton.” His voice dropped into a dangerous growl. “Those bastards think they can take what I built.”

Those bastards are my family.

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to stay composed. “I have the latest projections. We can still fight this, Sir.”

“And how the fuck do we fight it?” he snarled, finally turning fully toward me. “You’re always so fucking composed. Do you even have a solution, or are you just another robot wasting my time?”

His rudeness stung. But the worst part was how my body betrayed me.... my thighs pressing together, warmth pooling low in my belly. I imagined him shoving me against his desk the way Damien Black would, voice just as cold while he ruined me completely.

Stop it, Rihanna. You’re here to destroy him, not fantasize about fucking him.

“I’ll start cross-referencing the leaked specs immediately,” I replied, keeping my tone professional. “Would you like me to pull the employee access logs as well?”

Sean stared at me for a long moment, jaw tight. “No. Just do your damn job. I want everything reviewed and on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.”

He gave a curt nod toward the door, dismissing me.

I turned to leave when his voice cut through the silence again.

“And Princeton?”

I paused, tablet clutched tightly in my hands.

“Don’t make me regret keeping you around. You’re already on thin ice.”

I walked out and closed the heavy door behind me, leaning against it for a second as I released a shaky breath.

“Damn… that was intense,” I whispered.

He was getting more furious by the day at the threat of losing his company. And every sharp, cruel word from him only fed the secret obsession I couldn’t kill.

If my father ever found out how I really felt about Sean Davis… he would kill me.

I walked back to my desk, legs still unsteady. The executive floor was still completely silent, the kind of silence that pressed against your skin. For the next hour, I copied the necessary files onto the encrypted flash drive that I will be sending to my father.

There wasn't a lot of information, but it was just enough to keep my father from breathing down my neck.

My eyes kept drifting to Sean’s office as I typed and copied folders upon folders.

He still stood at the windows of his office. He looked so powerful and brooding, occasionally running a hand through his hair in quiet frustration. Even exhausted and irritated, he looked commanding. Untouchable.

Exactly like Damien Black.

At 12:40 a.m., I finally shut down my computer, slipped the drive into my bag, and left the reports on his desk without another word. He didn’t acknowledge me as I left. Not even a glance.

The drive home was quiet. Too quiet. My mind kept replaying every sharp word he’d thrown at me.

By the time I stepped into my small, modest apartment, I was so fucking drained...

I changed into a loose t-shirt and sleeping shorts, made myself a cup of chamomile tea I wouldn’t drink, then sat at my desk and opened my laptop. My fingers hovered over the keys for only a second before they started moving, writing the forbidden novel and watching the words form on my laptop screen

"Damien Black stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, whiskey in hand, radiating cold fury. His grey eyes were sharp enough to cut ice. When his quiet secretary entered the room, he didn’t waste words.

“You’re late,” he growled.

She trembled under his gaze, but the ache between her thighs only grew. He stepped closer, towering over her. “On your knees,” he commanded. His voice left no room for refusal. She dropped slowly to her knees before him, heart racing, knowing he would use her mouth until she cried from pleasure… and she would thank him for every second."

I exhaled shakily, my thighs pressing together as I reread the paragraph. The words weren’t enough tonight. Not after being so close to him for hours.

I closed the laptop and moved to my bed, turning off the lights. The city glow filtered softly through the curtains.

Lying back against the pillows, I closed my eyes and let the fantasy take over. My hand slowly slid down my stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

My fingers found the slick heat waiting there.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I started touching myself. I began with slow circles at first, then felt my fingers move faster, imagining it was Sean’s hand instead. His cold voice in my ear. His arrogant touch. His grey eyes watching me fall apart.

I bit my lip hard, hips lifting off the bed as the pleasure built.

This was what I had always done when I imagined Sean Davis.

And tonight, it felt more dangerous,  more intense than ever.

As my hips buckled with the force of my pleasure, only one thought hung in the sane part of my head...

Fuck...my father is going to kill me.