Redeeming You: An Enemies-to-Lovers Cocky Boss Romance (Only You)

by Vic Tyler

  Everything I repressed and pushed down came bursting to the surface. The feelings of guilt and sorrow, the grief and agony and anger poured out of me. Benji held me until I stopped crying, and the cab driver silently handed back a box of tissues.

  Oh, god, why now? As the tears ceased and I regained my breath, I realized I broke down in the middle of a workday. This was humiliating. And there were still clients to meet later in the day, and this was all so unprofessional.

  I apologized to Benji and the cab driver, grabbing my compact as I tried to hide my puffy, red, tear–streaked face behind layers of powder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Benji pull up his phone and scroll through it, slightly faced away from me. We sat silently, and I stewed in the mess of my emotions, regretting that I had shown him such a vulnerable side of me.

  When we arrived at the studio, I walked in and heard the lock clicking. I turned around to see Benji flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED.

  “What are you doing?” I said, frowning.

  “Playing hooky.” He shrugged.

  “We can’t,” I started. “We’re so behind because of the weekend, and the concept meeting for the Elle photo shoot is today and —”

  Benji’s interrupted me with a deep and powerful kiss, his tongue comfortingly stroking my bottom lip.

  “Canceled everything already,” he murmured. “I even apologized, can you believe it?”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Benji said, pressing his mouth boldly into mine while pulling my body into his.

  He pulled away, and his emerald green eyes intensely scoured mine. Oh, no, my tear stricken face probably looked swollen. I averted my eyes and tried to duck my head down, but he gently lifted my chin.

  “I’m not very good with words,” he admitted.

  “Obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  I still couldn’t help the small smile blooming on my face.

  “But I’ve seen you work for the past three months,” Benji said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I could hardly believe you were only an assistant for a year when you started. And I can’t believe that something you dedicated your entire life to could be anything less than extraordinary.”

  He kissed my forehead.

  “Sure, your parents gave you a lot, but you’re the one who made the most out of it. If they had any pride in what they do, they would’ve wanted you to earn your position, and I think they believed in you.”

  Benji let go of me to cup his hands on my face and looked deeply into my eyes. “You deserved all your achievements. They were all rightfully yours. And now you deserve to let go of your regrets and dream about something different. You deserve your own forgiveness. You deserve happiness.”

  A tear rolled down my cheek, and he lightly licked it then kissed me, the salty drop coating our lips.

  “I’m not very good at words,” he said. “So let me comfort you in the way I can.”

  “Do tears turn you on?” I laughed.

  Benji smiled, his face gentle and soft.

  “It’s great lube.”

  “Gandalf fucking shoots lightning out.”

  “I’m just saying, Dumbledore probably has a lot more spells and knowledge under his belt.”

  “It doesn’t matter how much he knows if he’s going to get fried and chopped into pieces.”

  “Hey, if they’re fighting long–distance, Dumbledore just needs to swish and flick Gandalf’s ass out of there.”

  Benji had invited me back to his apartment, so we picked up some movies, Chinese takeout, and several pints of gelato (wow, no wonder he brought me here the first time. I told him that was sneaky, and he smirked at me).

  We just finished “The Two Towers” of our Lord of the Rings marathon and were arguing about who’d win in a fight: Gandalf or Dumbledore. Benji insisted he was right after he got the last word before reducing me to moans while he practiced speaking Sindarin between my legs. And I was standing firm that the argument was put on hold since he was trying to distract me.

  “Shut up, just admit you’re wrong,” Benji said, shoving a spoon full of pistachio gelato into my mouth.

  A smug feeling of satisfaction filled me. He totally converted to pistachio gelato. I dove under the blankets to give his penis a gelato coating, and he yelped.

  “Never,” I said, popping back up and planting a deep kiss into him.

  Benji’s lips were warm, tinged with cold sweetness. His eyes lazily opened when I pulled away, the dark jade orbs speckled with gold glints of light. He still took my breath away, and I loved when he was this close to me — mine to admire and gaze at, mine for the moment.

  Benji smiled, relaxed and innocent, boyishly charming. He didn’t seem like the Devil Photographer now. It was a side of him that no one else saw, a part of him that I monopolized.

  Even if it was unfair, I didn’t care. I wanted him all to myself. I wanted to be the only one who knew those shy smiles, the way he nuzzled my hair when he was starting to fall asleep, the deep, rumbling laughter that rose and echoed from the depths of his chest.

  Seeing his face wrenched my heart. I couldn’t control my feelings for him anymore. And when he did things like take the day off because I broke down after leaving David Geffen Hall, I found myself wishing he wouldn’t. It seemed almost cruel for him to spoil me. I was temporarily happy at the cost of my own sanity.

  “Have you learned any more of the ukulele?” I murmured.

  “No, my teacher’s been slacking,” Benji said, nibbling my neck. “She’s way more interested in sucking me off than teaching me anything.”

  “Maybe she’s trying to teach you to resist temptation.”

  “Well, she’s doing a shit job because I can’t resist her.”

  He pulled me onto his lap, his fingers grazing lightly over the swollen lips of my pussy. My spine tingled, and my skin woke, shuddering in anticipation. I thought about protesting when he slipped a finger inside of me, and any thoughts of stopping him disappeared.

  “Seems like she can’t resist me either,” Benji growled, thrusting his fingers in and out. He groaned as he leaned his head on my shoulder. “How are you this wet all the time?”

  “How are you so hard all the time?” I moaned as his fingers curled inside of me, rubbing my G–spot.

  “Touché.”

  His fingers slipped out, and the thick velvety head of his engorged cock rubbed against the opening of my slit.

  I instinctively moved down to swallow his tip into my hole, my body remembering — craving — the feeling of his penis filling me.

  “Whoa, whoa,” he panted, his voice husky and his breathing ragged. “Need to get a condom.”

  I let out an impatient whimper as I lifted myself off him, and he grabbed the little packet. He covered himself and sat back up, jerking me forcefully back onto his lap.

  “Now you can satisfy your greedy little cunt,” Benji smirked.

  I pouted. “Excuse you. I don’t need —”

  He reached up and bit my pursed lip. The pain sent a shock through my body, exciting all my nerves, and I melted against him. He rubbed his cock against my opening again.

  “Don’t lie,” he murmured, as I rubbed myself on his tip, whimpering.

  His green eyes shimmered brightly in the light, but his enlarged pupils made his eyes smolder hazily with lust.

  “Ride me.”

  I moaned as I slid down his long cock, feeling my sore lips stretch comfortably around his erect sex. But my insides ached wantingly every time I came up. He made me full and complete in a way that no man ever had before. Like I wanted him inside of me all the time.

  Benji watched intently, his breathing rough as he drank in the sight of my dripping pussy devouring his manhood.

  His hands softly caressed and massaged my body — from my breasts to the small of my back to my waist and then thighs. His touch left a fiery tingle on my skin, only overpowered by the friction of his throbbing erection buried deep inside me.

  My hips slu
rped up and down his thick shaft, my lower lips greedily deepthroating him.

  Each time I sat, his base firmly kissing my entrance, his head plunged towards my womb entrance. I just wanted to feel his hot, sticky juices explode inside me.

  He reached up and rolled my nipples between his fingers. He tugged sharply on them, jerking me towards him.

  My mouth fell onto his, and his tongue plunged into my mouth, penetrating just as deeply as his penis inside me. He greedily swallowed all my moans with eagerness.

  He pinched my nipples harder, and I cried out, grinding my clit into him. His manhood throbbed violently against all my walls. He squeezed my breasts tightly, filling his hands.

  Suddenly he slapped my ass, the swift movement jiggling my cheeks deeply into my own sex.

  He growled as he dug his fingers into my ass and furiously pumped my hips onto his cock. So fucking hard and long and thick, his arousal assaulted me deeply in my core. His spear violently impaling my sheath, over and over.

  Each time my clit slammed into his groin, a shock ran up my spine and my mind blanked, sending a new splash of my juices down to soak every inch of his lap. His balls were round and full, slapping against my ass as my pussy choked on his cock.

  He pumped my hips faster, and he grunted and panted, his voice guttural and carnal, eager for his own release. The wave of my orgasm threatened to crash into me.

  “I’m going to cum,” I gasped, feeling the cloud of my climax rolling up in me.

  Benji flipped me onto my back and pushed my knees over his shoulders. He pummeled his cock deep into me, his thick head punching my G–spot over and over again. I screamed as my climax crashed into me and rose into another orgasm and another.

  Right at my last orgasm, Benji shoved himself fully into me, our skins practically fused, and his penis pulsed as it spurt ropes of come. He collapsed on me and then rolled to the side, drawing me into his chest.

  “See,” he whispered, nuzzling my hair. “That’s how Dumbledore would get fucked over by Gandalf.”

  In the morning, I slowly came to. My throat was parched, but I couldn’t move, my back pinned to Benji’s chest. His long, muscular arm draped around my waist, leaning heavily and securely against my stomach. His slow, deep breaths tickled my hair, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  I cupped my hand over his, lightly stroking it. He squeezed me closer, pushing his swollen morning wood between my thighs. I was surprised by the heat that ignited inside me again. I came so many times already, plowed in my mouth and pussy so many times last night, and I still couldn’t understand the desire that was still pooling in my vagina.

  I basked in the moment for a few minutes before slowly moving Benji’s arm away. I slipped out to use the bathroom and grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. His apartment was huge but sparsely furnished like no one was actually living there. It was like a model apartment that realtors used to show the property in the building.

  We had spent the entire day in his bedroom, wrapped up in each other and several blankets. The room looked more lived in with the boxes of Chinese food and finished tubs of gelato scattered on the floor, all the blankets and pillows ruffled in a constant post–sex mess.

  Benji slept soundly, sprawled naked on his large bed. His face looked so peaceful and young, unlike the usual hardened expression he had on. With the sunlight streaming in through the window, he looked like a marble statue. The intricate auburn waves on his head glowed golden. The light illuminating his smooth, tan skin, his toned chest, muscular arms, long legs.

  I wanted to take a picture. I scrambled quietly through his camera bag and took out the heavy black body. Benji demanded I practice shooting photos to familiarize myself with how each setting affected the picture so that I could better understand how the external elements factored in. But there wasn’t much that inspired me to take photos of anything. Except this.

  Benji stirred at the sound of the shutter, and I quickly turned it off and put it down on his dresser. His eyes blearily fluttered open, and he sat up, stretching. He motioned to the bottle as I was drinking from it, so I offered it to him. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. I stumbled over, my chest colliding against his face.

  He burrowed his face between my breasts, hugging me tightly. My heart soared overwhelmingly with adoration, with the lingering fear that it would be shot down at any moment. How much longer could we keep this up?

  Benji took the bottle and poured it into my mouth, before using his hand to tilt my chin down. His tongue plunged through my lips, and he drank greedily. He pulled away and smirked, finishing the bottle, and then grabbed my waist and pulled me down to the bed.

  “Morning,” he said, his voice husky with sleep. The warmth from his body and the sunlight wrapped my body in a sleepy embrace.

  I couldn’t help thinking that this is how I wanted to wake up in the mornings. If I believed that I was trying to control my feelings for this man, I was kidding myself. I was already deeply in love with him. I had been for a long time.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost seven. We have to head over to the studio soon.”

  “That’s enough time,” he murmured, brushing his lips against mine. His morning wood got even stiffer against my belly.

  My head was dizzy with all my blood pooling down to my lower body. “For what?”

  “A morning workout.”

  The schedule for the next few days was packed. Benji and Sam spent nearly the entire time together going out and meeting clients, contacts, and Grant. Sometimes they started outside right away, not stopping by the office. And they didn’t get back in time for closing any of the days, so I closed up and left every day — a strange unfamiliar feeling.

  I texted Brie to ask her what she was up to since I normally spent Friday nights with Benji when he was around, and he didn’t make it back to the studio today either. I had just finished locking the door when Sam stumbled out of a cab.

  “Sorry about that,” Sam said sheepishly as I unlocked the door. “I forgot my backpack in the studio. Good thing I ran into you though.”

  “It’s no problem,” I said, walking with him to the office. “Wow, you and Benji must be tired from running around the past few days.”

  Sam tilted his head at me and nodded thoughtfully. “I guess so. It hasn’t been too bad since it’s mostly been lunch and dinner appointments. I can’t complain about free food, right?” He laughed.

  Did I hear that right? I frowned. “What about the mornings? And evenings? Aren’t you out from eight in the morning to nine in the evening?”

  Sam looked confused. “No, Benji and I always met on location for lunch and split right after dinner.”

  Oh. A nauseating feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

  Sam walked over to Benji’s desk to grab the backpack leaning against it.

  “Oh, is this yours?” Sam asked me, as he picked something up from floor. He held out a necklace.

  Gold chain. Shell. Pearl.

  My stomach threatened to lurch the contents up my throat. I grabbed the necklace and examined it carefully, my mind panicking. No, no, no, no. It can’t be. But it was, every detail familiar as I remembered from seeing it often the past decade. But why? Why was this here? There were no recent shoots she had with Benji. Why had she taken it off?

  “Um.” Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed. I put the necklace on the desk. Benji’s desk. “It’s not my necklace. Got everything you need?”

  We left the building in silence, my head swimming with questions and dread. Sam said goodbye and left hurriedly.

  Ping.

  Brie

  Grant and I are going back home for the weekend. Our families insisted… What about you? Don’t lock up the studio too late! Be careful when you walk home <3

  No. I hadn’t told her that I was locking up alone these past few days.

  No, no, no, no. I picked up my phone, barely conscientious when I dialed a numbe
r I never thought I’d call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Grant,” I said, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice. “This is Maria.”

  “Hello, Maria.” Grant sounded like his usual cheerful self. “This is certainly unusual. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing much,” I said, clearing my throat. “Um, is Brie there?”

  “Brie?”

  “Um, yeah, she told me you two are going back to the family estate for the weekend.”

  “Oh, we’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon,” Grant said. “Brie should be at her apartment. Everything alright?”

  “Yeah.” Oh no, I was speaking in a falsetto. I cleared my throat again. “I just couldn’t reach her, so I thought you might be with her. She’s probably just in the shower. I’ll give her another call.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” Grant’s voice took a dangerously curious edge. “Calling me because you can’t reach Brie is a first.”

  “No, no,” I squeaked. Dammit. “I just saw Olivia Wilde and wanted to fangirl about it. So embarrassing. Please don’t mention it. To anyone. Going to call Brie again. Or maybe it can wait. Sorry, just got excited. Bye Grant.”

  I slammed my finger on the red button, hanging up before Grant could get another word in.

  Oh, god. I started walking. I wasn’t even sure where. I wasn’t registering anything I saw or heard.

  Brie. Benji.

  Brie’s necklace. Benji’s absences.

  Why did she lie? What other reason could she have lied for?

  I tried pushing the worst conclusion out of my mind.

  Brie. Benji.

  Brie. Benji.

  Brie and Benji.

  Benji and Brie.

  The heavy pit in my belly felt like it was punching my stomach, and I ran to the nearest alleyway, splattering the cement with the remnants of my digested dinner.

  My best friend and the man I love.

  I stood, coughing out the spit in my mouth and fighting back tears. When I got my head together, I still felt nauseous. There was no conclusive evidence. There was no definitive conclusion. I couldn’t lose my best friend and a man I deeply admired and cared about because I was jumping to conclusions.