Billionaire Bosshole: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance (Bedding the Billionaire Book 3)

by Laura Lee

  Like I said before, this was going to be a long ass flight.

  I stuck my hands in my pockets to adjust myself as I approached her. “Quinn.”

  “Mr. Maxwell.” She tilted her chin up as she handed me a luggage check tag. “I’ve already dropped my suitcase, so once you put that on and drop yours, we’re good to go.”

  I secured the tag to the handle on my suitcase and gestured for her to walk with me to the drop off window. I placed my bag on the scale and waited as the attendant reviewed my documents.

  The woman handed my driver’s license back to me. “Have a great flight, Mr. Maxwell.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  Quinn stiffened and took a few steps to the side when I placed my hand on her lower back to guide her.

  “I can walk just fine by myself, thank you very much.”

  I leaned into her ear and didn’t miss the resulting shiver. “But then I couldn’t touch you and that’s not nearly as much fun.”

  Quinn grabbed my arm and yanked me to the side so we weren’t blocking foot traffic. “Would you stop?”

  “Stop what, Quinn?”

  “That!” she huffed. “The touching. The first names. Stop all of it. This is a business trip that I’d like to keep strictly business. Capiche, Mr. Maxwell?”

  I gave her a glacial stare. “I’ve already told you that I’m done playing these games with you. What part of that did you not understand?”

  She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a game. It’s my job! And yours. All I’m asking is that you act like it. Treat this like any other business trip we’ve taken before... before we...”

  I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Before you enthusiastically bounced on my cock? You know, the same one you recently admitted that you couldn’t get enough of?”

  Quinn ground her teeth together. “Add dirty talking to the list of things you should not be doing on this trip.”

  “But you like my dirty talk.” I winked. “Don’t even think about trying to deny that.”

  She flushed, confirming my statement. “It doesn’t matter. That’s in the past and I’d like to leave it there.”

  I stretched my neck from side to side. “You’re a fucking liar.”

  “And you’re an asshole!”

  I smirked. “Why, Miss Montgomery, that wasn’t a very professional thing to say to your boss.”

  Quinn rubbed her temples. “Jesus-fucking-Christ, you’re driving me crazy.”

  I gripped her elbow and started walking. “Join the club, sweetheart. Look, why don’t we agree to disagree for now? I really don’t want to spend the next five hours on a plane with you while you’re so pissy. You can have it out with me when we get to the hotel.”

  Considering fighting always led to fucking with us—at least lately—I found myself looking forward to it.

  She shook off my hold as we stepped into the security line. “Fine.”

  Since we were flying first-class, getting through security was a breeze. With almost ninety minutes to kill, I suggested we grab breakfast in the lounge and surprisingly, Quinn agreed. The first thing she did when we got there was order a bottle of champagne with a carafe of OJ.

  “We’re drinking mimosas, I take it?”

  Quinn stabbed herself in the chest with her index finger. “I am drinking mimosas. If you want some, get your own.”

  I laughed. “I think I’ll stick to coffee.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  An egg scramble for each of us and nearly three mimosas for Quinn later, her frosty demeanor warmed a bit.

  “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to loosen up.”

  “How so?”

  “Did you really need to wear a suit when all we’re doing today is getting on a plane and checking into the hotel? Do you even own any t-shirts or jeans? Or, God forbid” —she pressed her open palm against her chest and gasped,— “shorts?”

  I hid a smile behind my coffee mug. She was adorable when she was being a smartass.

  “I own quite a few of each.” I widened my eyes for a dramatic effect. “I even packed some shorts in my suitcase!”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Liar. We’ve been to several tropical destinations now and you’ve always worn slacks.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” I checked the time on my watch. “We’d better get going. They should be boarding by the time we get to the gate.”

  Quinn lifted her champagne glass and chugged the rest of the mimosa. I had to fight the urge to lick the tiny droplet that escaped from the corner of her mouth. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, flushing as our eyes met. It was likely from the alcohol consumption, but for the sake of my ego, I’d hoped part of that was arousal.

  We both rose from the table at the same time. Quinn wobbled a bit, automatically reaching for something to stabilize herself. That something just happened to be my bicep.

  I reached out with my other arm, pressing into the curve of her spine. “Whoa there, take it easy.”

  She managed to catch her balance but was still holding onto my arm for dear life. “Sorry. I guess the champagne hit me all at once. Thankfully I ate some food, huh? At least you don’t have to carry me to the gate.”

  I leaned down and whispered, “I wouldn’t have minded. Although, I’m pretty sure they won’t let you on the plane if you’re shit-faced, so I am glad you ate.” I nodded toward the pastry case. “Maybe you should grab a croissant or two to help suck up the liquor even more.”

  Quinn’s flush deepened. “Not a bad idea.”

  “You’re much more agreeable when you’re drunk, you know.” My lips pulled up in the corners.

  She glared. “Shut up. I am not drunk.”

  I picked up a small paper bag and a pair of tongs. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. You want anything else while we’re here? A chocolate muffin, perhaps?”

  Quinn had a weakness for chocolate muffins. Every time we brought pastries in for a meeting, she discreetly wrapped one in a napkin and set it aside.

  She gave me a soft smile. Fuck, she was beautiful when she did that. “Sure. That would be nice.”

  After filling a to-go bag with two croissants, a Danish, and a chocolate muffin, I threaded her arm through mine, which she actually allowed. After a quick pit stop to use the restroom, we arrived at our gate. They had just started boarding the first-class cabin, so we walked straight up to the attendant and scanned our tickets. My fingertips pressed into Quinn’s spine as we made our way down the ramp and into the plane. I stowed our carry-ons in the overhead bin as she settled into her window seat.

  After folding my suit jacket over the armrest, I dropped into the seat beside her. “You doing okay?”

  “Yeah.” She retrieved a pair of earbuds from her purse before stowing it beneath the seat in front of her. “A little tired, actually.”

  “Why don’t you rest for a bit?” I suggested. “I’ll wake you up when they start serving lunch.”

  Her eyes briefly fluttered closed. “Yeah... okay. That works.”

  She was out cold by the time the plane reached cruising altitude. I powered up my laptop and immersed myself in mind-numbingly boring reports. I was trying desperately to ignore the sleeping beauty beside me, but that quickly became a futile attempt.

  I was continuously distracted by her soft little murmurs. The way her mile-long legs kept shifting. How her pouty lips were slightly parted into the shape of an O. At one point, chills broke out all over her skin, so I covered her with my jacket. She instantly snuggled into it and I could swear, she even released a little moan. I was being bombarded with one memory after another, none of which were conducive to deflating an erection.

  I didn’t know how I was going to survive four more hours of this.

  With a heavy sigh, I shut down my computer and tucked the tray table back into the armrest. Maybe Quinn had the right idea by taking a nap. I didn’t normally sleep well on airplanes, but it was worth a shot. Anything would be an improvement over m
y current agony.

  I was painfully erect and no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t even excuse myself to the restroom to take care of it because I was tenting my slacks. God forbid, I actually had to take a piss. I had never been more grateful for inflight blankets than I was now. It was much easier to avoid indecency charges with the fleece draped over us.

  I reclined my seat and extended the leg rest, careful not to wake her. I groaned when she curled up on her side and rested her head against my shoulder. It was an unconscious move on her part but having her this close to me was making the situation worse. Fuck, she smelled good.

  I tucked some loose hair behind her ear, and she scooted into me further, curling her hands around my bicep. I found myself smiling at the knowledge that Quinn Montgomery was a cuddler. For some reason, I hated the fact that I didn’t know that about her before now.

  I knew that I should probably move her off of me, but then I would risk waking her, and it was in my best interest that she remained unconscious. I decided to take my own advice instead and rest for a while, since I couldn’t focus long enough to get any work done. Besides, it was easier to avoid the temptation of touching the woman beside me—or staring at her like a creepy stalker—if I were asleep.

  This woman was going to be the death of me, I swear.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  QUINN

  I startled awake, wincing as a crick in my neck made itself known. My eyes blinked rapidly as they struggled to focus. Once the sleep fog had finally cleared, I noticed that Ronan was snoozing quietly beside me. Damn, I loved his name. I loved thinking it and saying it, especially in the heat of the moment as he’d so crudely pointed out earlier. Why did I insist on going back to formalities? Why was calling him by his first name such a big deal? People did it all the time, especially ones who had seen each other naked. Although, now that I thought about it, I’d never actually seen Ronan completely naked before.

  I made a note to myself to rectify that ASAP. Wait... scratch that. That train of thought could only lead to trouble. I had no idea how to handle this new dynamic of ours, but one thing I was certain of, was that Ronan Maxwell was trouble with a capital T. That was why I’d insisted on calling him Mr. Maxwell earlier, and why I needed to continue doing so. It helped me maintain the wall around my heart that seemed to be weakening every day. It was pretty much my last defense in protecting myself from this man.

  God, he was so arrestingly beautiful like this. The persistent chip on his shoulder was nowhere to be found. He looked significantly younger than his thirty-five years on any given day, but in sleep, it was even more prominent. He had this innocence about him that was boyish, almost, but with a rugged, manly twist. I had to fight back the urge to lean forward and pepper his stubbled jaw with kisses.

  “If you’re going to keep staring at me, you might as well take a picture,” he mumbled.

  Shit! How long had he been awake? And how did he know I was staring?

  “Please. I wasn’t staring.” I schooled my expression as his eyes opened.

  His lips curved. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s go with that.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I narrowed my eyes. “It’s demeaning and entirely inappropriate in the workplace.”

  He looked around the cabin. “Funny, I thought we were on an airplane, not in the office.”

  “You know the point I was trying to make.”

  His eyebrows rose. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  Jesus, I wanted to smack him. “Fine, be an ass. Since you need me to spell it out for you, if you need to address me for any reason, Miss Montgomery will suffice.”

  Ronan released a short laugh. “Good luck with that... Quinn.”

  “Nuh-uh.” I shook my head. “We’re not on a first-name basis. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “And how many times do I have to tell you that’s not going to happen. I’m not going backward.”

  My hands curled into fists. I swear, I’d never met someone who could elicit so many violent thoughts before him.

  “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

  He glared. “I could say the same about you, sweetheart.”

  Ugh, I wanted to scream. Since that wasn’t possible, I decided avoidance was the best solution. I folded my arms and turned to look out the window.

  I almost jumped when I felt his hot breath on my ear. “Listen to me, because this is the last time I’m going to say this. I will agree to your request when we’re conducting business, while other people are present, but that is the only concession I will make. If we’re alone, anything goes.” When I opened my mouth to argue, he placed a hand on my thigh, rendering me speechless.

  “I’ve been inside of you. I know how warm, wet, and tight your pussy feels as it clenches around me. I know how fucking sweet it tastes. I know that your nipples are a dusty shade of pink and that you whimper whenever I wrap my lips around them.” His hand slid up a little farther. “I know that you have a small birthmark on your inner thigh, an inch to the left of your delicious cunt. I know that you think of me at night as you’re getting yourself off. I know that your fingers—or whatever toys that you may have in your arsenal—will never be enough, because it’s me you want. It’s me you crave.

  “Whether you like it or not, that’s a fact; therefore, I say we are on a first-name basis. You’re arguing with me just for the hell of it at this point. I get it; you’re a strong woman. You’re probably the strongest woman I’ve ever met. That said, quit fucking fighting me on something so trivial.”

  Dear Lord, I didn’t think my panties could be any wetter.

  “I can’t seem to help myself. You bring out the worst in me,” I whispered.

  He nipped the shell of my earlobe. “Likewise. But all the orgasms make up for the aggravation.”

  I shivered. “It’s still not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re my boss.”

  Ronan gently pinched my chin, prompting me to turn toward him. “Not when we’re like that. We’re just two people enjoying each other’s bodies.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  His thumb traced my bottom lip, and I had to resist the urge to pull it into my mouth. “Do you trust me?”

  I gulped, trying to ignore the tingle his touch left behind. “Not especially.”

  He gave me a wry look. “I’m being serious. Our personal association will in no way affect our working relationship. You know me well enough to know that I don’t deliver false promises. If I say I’m going to do something, I will always do everything in my damn power to make that happen.”

  I knew he was right, and I did actually trust him, but that didn’t make it any easier to give in. The more tangled our web became, the more certain I was that this man had the power to break me. Despite his assurances, I wasn’t sure if I was capable of compartmentalizing like that.

  “Excuse me, we’re about to start serving lunch. Would you two like to look at the menu?”

  Ronan pulled away. “Yes, please.” He handed me the little card that listed our food choices. “Well?”

  I briefly glanced at the menu and decided on the fruit and cheese platter. Once the flight attendant was gone, I turned to Ronan. “I need time to think about it.”

  He contemplated that. “Fuck that. You’ll only talk yourself out of it. If you can’t fully commit to it right now, then give me Hawaii. Let’s take advantage of our time away from headquarters to relate on a personal level. Let’s toss the boss-employee component out the window when we’re off the clock. I’ll try not being so much of an asshole if you agree to dial the bitch down.” He smiled when I glared at him for that last comment. “If either one of us decides that it won’t work after we return home, so be it. Just give me the week.”

  I took a deep breath and decided to throw caution to the wind. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He smiled.

  I nodded. “Just Hawaii. Th
en we can reassess.”

  “Deal.”

  God, I hoped I didn’t regret this.

  ***

  We were stuck in traffic again; this time Ronan was driving though, so there was no chance of repeating what had happened the last time we were on a freeway together. Although, I couldn’t say the idea wasn’t appealing. We rented a Jeep as he had requested, and he insisted on driving with the top down. I didn’t know why, but seeing this man behind the wheel, dark hair blowing in the wind, my lady bits were taking notice. His sleeves were rolled up and I couldn’t stop fixating on the way his forearm muscles flexed as he gripped the wheel. Or on the small patch of exposed skin where he’d unfastened the top two buttons on his shirt.

  “Did you really pack shorts?”

  He quickly glanced at me. “Why are you so obsessed with my wardrobe all of a sudden?”

  “Because... you must be uncomfortably warm right now with the top down. Who the hell wears a suit on a tropical island without air conditioning?”

  “I do, apparently.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. My point was, if you truly did pack island appropriate clothing, why aren’t you wearing it? You could’ve changed before we got into the car. I’m barely wearing anything and I’m roasting.”

  His Ray-Bans slid down the bridge of his nose as his eyes leisurely roamed my legs. “So I’ve noticed.”

  My cheeks heated. Thankfully, I could blame the weather if I had to. “So? Are you going to answer my question?”

  He laughed. “Because I wasn’t about to dig through my suitcase in the middle of the airport and then change in a goddamn bathroom.”

  “Why not? People do it all the time.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  You could say that again. No other person could piss me off and turn me on in the same breath like he could.