“Okay?” He asked softly. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her pupils huge.
“Okay,” she said.
So he kissed her.
◆◆◆
Damn.
His lips were soft, and warm, and soft, and she wasn’t supposed to like this, but she couldn’t remember why.
His mouth glided over hers like dew over a rose, and she realised that she was drunker than she thought—because here she was on the steps of Rock Palace, kissing her boss, and she had absolutely no intention of stopping.
But then she remembered... This couldn’t happen. No matter how good it might feel now, the whole thing was a mistake. And so she pulled away.
He blinked at her slowly, as though he’d just woken from a dream. Then he murmured, “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Despite herself, Jen felt her heart sink. “Why not?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m tipsy.”
He arched a brow, disbelief written over his face.
“Oh, screw you anyway,” she mumbled. She knew she sounded childish, but the words tumbled out of her mouth regardless. “I don’t even know why I’m talking to you. You just want a happy little office slut to pass the time.”
He chuckled. “Really, Jen? A happy little office slut? Is that what you think?” He was smiling, but there was something sad in his eyes that made her feel strangely guilty.
Not that she should feel guilty. Nope, nope, nope.
He sighed. Then he reached into his pocket, rummaged around, and produced a roll-up. He looked down at the cigarette like he was surprised to find it there, in his hand, and the comedy of the scene almost distracted her from her complete humiliation. Almost.
“Hey,” she said. “Crash us a fag.”
He hesitated—then shrugged and held it out. Silently, he pressed the butt to her lips; she opened, gripped it reflexively.
“I wish you wouldn’t smoke,” he said, as though this was a habit he’d known of for some time, and he’d tried in vain to cure her of it. Then he slipped a lighter out of his pocket and made a cup around the cig with his hand, the side of his palm grazing her face. There was no wind. He lit her up.
For a moment they simply sat, both staring out into the empty street, its tranquility at odds with the blaring guitar riffs echoing from the gritty building right behind them. Then:
“You don’t even smoke, do you?” He stared at her, assessing, inscrutable.
“Yes I do.”
“Liar.”
She scowled, ready to tell him off, but his expression cut her short. He was smiling gently, the expression softening his high cheekbones and tilting those hypnotic eyes ’til they were nothing but shards of broken glass glinting in the darkness. He was teasing. He’d teased her before.
“I smoke,” she insisted, and to prove it, she took a drag and puffed out a few perfect rings into his face. Theo arched one brow, playing impressed as though she were a toddler with a trick. Then he pulled the cigarette out of her mouth.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t smoke either.” And he dropped it onto the step below them and stamped it out. What a waste.
But at least, once he’d done that, he turned to her and rested his hand against her cheek. His palm was going to come away brown with what was left of her foundation—all the setting spray in the world couldn’t protect him if he insisted on holding her face like this. Only she liked it. She shouldn’t, but she did.
“Why are you here?” She asked.
“Believe it or not, it’s a coincidence.”
“I don’t know if I do believe that.” Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, she blushed. He could probably feel her cheek warming. “I mean—I don’t believe in coincidences. Not that… I don’t think you’re stalking me or anything.”
He smiled gently. “Good. Jenny—”
She scowled. “Stop calling me that. It’s Jennifer.”
“No,” he argued. “Jenny suits me fine. Easier to moan.” And then the bastard had the nerve, the absolute cheek, to wink! But before she could give him what for, he leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Don’t look at me like that, Jen.” Another kiss. “You get my dick hard when you glare at me.”
Hm. She kind of liked that.
Wait. No. Ridiculous.
“Listen,” she said as he fingered one of the hoops in her ear. “I… I did enjoy what happened yesterday—”
“I noticed,” he said dryly.
“And you seem like a very nice person. I mean, I like talking to you. Um…” She trailed off as he traced his fingers over the sensitive skin at the back of her knee. “Oh, Lord.”
“Jen,” he murmured. “Hurry up and reject me so I can seduce you again.”
“This is a bad idea.” But now she was smiling. Must be the alcohol.
He ran a hand down her bare thigh, hooked his fingers behind her knee, and slung her right leg across his. “You’re doing great,” he said absently as he massaged her calf. “Keep going.”
“You didn’t seduce me, by the way. I cannot be seduced.”
“Of course you can’t,” he soothed, still kneading away. “Carry on.”
“What happened yesterday was inappropriate. You’re my boss.”
He looked up at her, suddenly serious. “I know that, Jenny. I do. I’d tell you to trust me, but you don’t know me yet. So how about… How about you get to know me?”
“What do you mean?” She asked. He had slipped off her shoe and was rubbing her right foot with sickening skill, but she liked to think she was keeping her head.
“I want to take you out,” he said. “Tomorrow, in fact. Tomorrow night. If you’re not busy?”
“Um…” She wasn’t busy.
“Say yes, Jenny. Please? Give me a chance.”
She should say no. She should nip this in the bud. She should—
“Okay.” Wait. Had she said that? Had her traitorous mouth uttered that word? Surely not.
But he was grinning. Crap.
“Where’s your phone?” He asked.
She hesitated, then reached into her cleavage and fished it out. His eyes followed her movements, his gaze darkening. She felt herself blush.
“Here,” she said. “Why?”
“Unlock it.”
She did, and he took it from her, his own phone in his other hand. As he tapped away at the screens, a car swung onto the street and purred to a stop a few feet in front of them.
Theo stood, pulling her up with him. He led her to the car, opened the back door.
“This is the family car,” he said. “Tell Holmes your address, and he’ll take you.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “You have a driver?”
He shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. “For my family. He’s here to look after my little sister tonight, but I don’t think she’ll be done for a while.”
While she continued to gape, he tugged down the neckline of her T shirt and slid his fingers past the cup of her bra. She gasped as his skin traced hers, perilously close to her tightening nipples. Then, with a smirk, he slid her phone back into place and pulled away.
“There,” he said. “You have my number.”
“I do?”
“You do. Get in the car, Jenny.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She climbed in, her head spinning slightly.
Theo leaned down. “Look after her, Holmes.”
“Of course, Sir.” The driver turned around to smile at her; he was an older man with thinning, grey hair and a narrow smile. “Where to, Ms…?”
“Johnson,” Theo told him. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Jen.”
“Um… Okay. Thank you, by the way.”
“No problem, Princess. Be safe.” He shut the door, cocooning her within the tinted windows and leather seats.
Jen turned towards the driver—Holmes—gave him her best, most sober smile, and reeled off her address without slurring.
“Of course, Ms Johnso
n.” He drove her home in comfortable silence while she tried to figure out what had just happened.
And to shake off the echoes of Theo’s touch.
Chapter Six
Jennifer knew that what she was about to do was dangerous.
If she continued on this course of action—if she insisted on seeing this reckless plan through—she’d be risking a lot. And yet, as she clutched her phone in one hand and prepared to knock with the other, she knew that she had to take that chance.
Closing her eyes, Jen knocked on the door that might very well lead to her doom.
A moment passed. Then the door swung open and Aria blinked sleepily at her, wearing an oversized T-shirt and a pair of Batman knickers.
“What’s up?” She mumbled.
Jen took a deep breath and uttered the dreaded words. “I need your help. I have a date.”
Aria’s eyes widened. Then a slow grin spread over her face, and she reached out and grabbed Jen by the forearm, her grip punishing.
“Oh my fucking God!” She shrieked. “Get in here, bitch!”
She dragged Jennifer into the darkness of the room, then flicked on the lights before flitting off towards her wardrobe.
“Argh!” A masculine voice cried out, its tone strangely flat, even in outrage. Jen’s head whipped towards the bed, just in time to see Simon desperately dragging the covers over his blindingly white arse.
“Oh my God!” Her cheeks burning, she turned to face the wall so fast she almost fell.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Aria tutted, rifling through her overflowing drawers. Jen wasn’t sure which of them she was talking to.
“Aria, what the fuck?” Simon spluttered.
“It’s an emergency,” Aria answered. “Jen has a date.” She ambled over to where Jennifer cringed at the wall, waving a sequinned blue halter-top. “What do you think of this?”
“I think it’s for women who don’t have tits the size of mountains.”
“You’re so ungrateful.” Aria looked glumly down at her own, less well-endowed chest. “If my boobs looked like yours I’d be running around dressed like Rihanna.”
“You do dress like Rihanna.”
“Oh, bless your heart. I wish.”
Behind them, Jen heard the frenzied shuffling of clothes being shoved on in a hurry.
“I’m leaving,” Simon said.
“Bye, babe.”
“See you, Simon.”
The only response was the slam of the bedroom door.
Aria rolled her eyes. “He gets so emotional sometimes, I swear.”
“He’s kind of weird. His voice is so… Robotic.”
“I like it. Turns me on.”
“Oh my God, Aria, please.”
“You’re such a prude. Tell me more about this date, anyway.” She moved back towards the wardrobe, laughing. “It’s not with your boss, is it?”
Jen remained silent.
Her eyes wide, Aria turned slowly around to stare at Jen’s guilty face. “Oh my God! It is!”
“It’s not that big a deal,” Jennifer mumbled.
“Is he loaded? I bet he’s loaded.”
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you say he’s a partner?”
“Yeah.” Jen wandered over to the bed, about to sit down, but then remembered that Simon’s naked body had apparently spent the night in there. Wincing, she sat gingerly at the edge.
“Oh, he is so loaded. Where’s he taking you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well we need to know if I’m going to choose your outfit!”
“Aria,” Jen said slowly. “I don’t need you to choose my outfit.”
“You don’t?”
“No. Because… Ugh, it’s better if I show you. Come on.”
Aria would flip. Jen knew this. As she led her friend down the hall and into her room, she prepared for a scream of epic proportions. Still, she wasn’t ready when it finally came.
“Holy shit!” Jen screeched. “He bought your outfit?”
“I… I suppose?”
“Sweet baby Jesus!” Her eyes sparkling like a little girl in a sweet shop, Aria fell on the pile of designer bags sitting on Jen’s bed, easing the boxes out of each one. “Where did these come from?”
“A guy delivered them about half an hour ago.” Jennifer chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I’m not sure if I should accept all this.”
“Oh, no you don’t, bitch. We’ve talked about this. Haven’t we?”
“Yes,” Jen sighed. But a smile curved her lips as she watched Aria open the largest box and squeal.
“Oh my God!” She held the dress up in front of her body, smoothing her hands lovingly over the fabric. “You’re not giving this back. You’re not giving any of this back. What have I told you?”
Rolling her eyes, Jennifer recited a much-heard speech. “The balance of society is weighted unfairly in favour of men, so anything they might give me in return for the blessing of my time is nothing less than what I deserve.”
“Precisely,” Aria said. She reached out and held the dress in front of Jen. “And sis, this is definitely what you deserve.”
Jennifer looked down, allowing herself to really see the dress for the first time. Except that dress was something of an understatement--this was a gown.
It was bright white, the light, gauzy fabric weighted down by gold jewelled detailing across the nipped-in waist. The bodice’s sturdy structuring was belied by the layers of near-sheer fabric and off-the-shoulder sleeves, while the long, narrow skirt was draped in an elegant, 1950s style.
“He’s trying to send a message,” Aria said with authority.
Jen looked up from the dress, still struggling to process. “What do you mean?”
“That’s a wedding dress, girl.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Aria arched a brow and shook her head knowingly. “I don’t know if it was intentional or not. But it’s pretty damn clear where his head’s at.”
Suddenly uncomfortable, Jen searched for a way to change the subject. “Um… What’s in the other bags?”
Immediately, Aria turned back to the bed.
Her eager hands unearthed strappy golden heels—“Red-bottoms!” She shrieked gleefully—a white clutch, and even a pair of gold hoops like the ones Jen had been wearing last night. That brought a smile to her lips.
And, curiously, there was also a long, faux-fur coat and a pair of matching gloves, both mink-brown.
“He is thorough,” Aria said, clearly impressed. “How did he know your size? Are you fucking this guy?”
“No!” Jen said. Then she bit her lip, because… Well. Maybe she technically wasn’t, but only because he hadn’t had a condom handy. Still, it wasn’t really a lie. “He actually texted me last night and asked me.”
“Seriously? And you told him?”
“I think I was drunk.”
“Clearly.”
Jen’s cheeks flushed as she thought about the fact that Theo now knew her dress size. “This must have been a nightmare to find. I didn’t even know they made dresses like this in my size.”
“If you have enough money, they make everything in your size. Hey, can I borrow this? When you’re done with it?”
“It’ll be too big for you.”
“I’m, like, one size smaller than you. Honey, for this? I’ll shove some clips in the back and keep my arse to the wall.”
Jennifer burst out laughing. “You’re ridiculous. Okay, whatever.”
“Thaaaank you, sweetie. So since you don’t need my help with the clothes…”
“Um. I was hoping you’d help with my hair. And my makeup.”
Aria arched a sceptical brow. “You never let me do your hair. Come on, what? Spit it out.”
Oh, God. Why had she decided to do this again? If it weren’t for the fact that Aria knew her too well to allow it, Jennifer would just make something up. But her best friend was giving her The Look. There was no getting out of
this.
“I… I wanted to ask you about…”
“What?” Aria prompted.
“About sex,” Jen mumbled.
“What’d you say? I don’t think I heard you right.”
“I wanted to ask you about sex!” Jennifer blurted out.
For a moment, Aria just blinked. But then she slapped her hands to her cheeks like a damned cartoon.
“Oh my god!” She wailed. “My little girl is growing up!”
“Don’t be weird about it!”
“But you’re so funny when you’re embarrassed.”
“Aria,” Jen whined. “Please.”
“Oh, fine. Wait there.” Chuckling to herself, Aria left the room. A few minutes later, she came back with a familiar black box.
“Is that…?”
“Yep. The Sox.”
AKA Sex Box. They’d come up with the name together when they were fifteen, then gone on a scandalous shopping trip and filled it with condoms and thongs. Except Aria was the only one who’d ever actually used it.
They sat down on the bed together, and Aria flipped the lid open.
Damn. Clearly, it had been upgraded over the last decade.
Inside were a few boxes of condoms, each one screaming a different benefit—Ribbed for your pleasure! Extra thin!—along with numerous bottles of lube, some of which appeared to be flavoured, and—Jen felt herself blush—toys.
Some of which she couldn’t even identify. Oh God.
“Is this the part where we have a porn-worthy sex-fest?” Jen joked.
Aria waggled her eyebrows. “If only I didn’t like you so much, maybe I’d take you up on that.”
“You wish, Granger.”
Rolling her eyes, Aria selected a range of condoms from the boxes, piling up the little foil packets in one hand. “He should have condoms. But he might pretend he doesn’t because he’s hoping that you’ll let him fuck you raw.”
“Um…”
“Don’t let him fuck you raw unless you have his test results. That’s rule number one.”
“Okay.”
“Rule number two is, don’t put in any effort for at least the first five times. Make him do all the work. You just focus on chasing your own orgasm. Otherwise they get all lazy and entitled and you’ll never come at all.”
Bad for the Boss_A BWAM Office Romance Page 5
