Bought by the Boss

by Stacey Kennedy

“It certainly does.” I glance back at the workers sitting at the tables wearing white lab coats, face masks, and hairnets. “What about their wages?”

  Mallory opens the file folder in her arms and flicks through a few documents. “Above standard, for sure.”

  I consider that. My instincts tell me we’re moving in the right direction. Two of the other companies have made their offers for the merger, and from my inside sources, I know Bakker is waiting for all four offers to decide. I need an advantage over the other companies, especially the Pioneer Group, since my sources say their offer is high. I feel like right now we’ve found it.

  “It’s got to be family.” I turn to Mallory. “That’s what drives a man like Bakker. He thinks of his employees like family. I bet if we focus on his employees, ensuring they are taken care of, we’ll get that advantage we need.”

  Mallory nods. “What do you need me to do?”

  That’s what I appreciate about Mallory most. She’s the best researcher I know, and whatever I need, she gets me. Every single time. I imagine this is what a marriage feels like, a partnership. In business, Mallory is my better half. Together, we are a kick-ass team. “Find out everything you can about Bakker’s personal life, more about what he does for his employees and what he does personally for his company.”

  “Consider it done,” Mallory says with a smile, closing the file folder.

  Right then, my cellphone beeps in my pocket, indicating I’ve received a text message. I grab out my phone, and when I see the text message is from Aria, I say to Mallory, “Give me a minute.”

  Mallory accepts the order and I watch her walk away, determined to keep my relationship with Aria private. When Mallory vanishes around the corner and there’s no one else in sight, I click on the text message, and my cock hardens so fast I bite back a groan.

  Aria is lying on her bed, the photograph only showing her stomach, and the dildo I sent her is resting on her smooth, toned, tanned skin. That’s not what throbs my cock, however. It’s the way the light is glistening off the dildo, telling me that she didn’t only use the toy but she also brought herself to orgasm. Every muscle in my body tenses. I ache to have her, to make her melt beneath my touch.

  Another beep.

  Thank you for the gift. I quite enjoyed it.

  I text back and promise, Your next orgasm will be mine. Then I shove the phone back into my pocket, knowing the game between us has only begun.

  Aria

  After work on Tuesday, I enter Martini’s, a chic restaurant known for its pasta and grilled meats in the Fashion District. With industrial lighting above the tables and red chairs and black couches scattered throughout, the design of the grand space is a mix of modern and elegance.

  “Can I help you?” a violet-haired female greets me.

  “I’m actually meeting someone here.” I quickly look around the bustling restaurant and find Mallory waving at me from the back of the rectangular room. “Oh, she’s there.” I smile at the greeter.

  She smiles back. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  “I always do,” I tell her before hastily moving toward Mallory.

  The closer I get, the more Mallory’s smile warms, and the more my heart warms. Our friendship grew from working for Liam and Jackson. While they despise each other, they are also insanely professional when it comes to work, and they happen to do a lot of business together, just on opposing sides. Which in reality, I think they both enjoy. Making the other’s client pay financially seems as good a way as any to continue to burn each other. Though over the years, Mallory and I became closer, and now we’re roommates and pretty much inseparable.

  “Hi,” I say when I reach her.

  She gives me a quick hug. “I’m so happy you called to meet for dinner. I did not want to cook tonight at all, and pasta sounded great.”

  “Carbs always sound great.” I laugh, taking my seat across from her. “How was work?”

  “Work was work.” Mallory smiles then winks. “Liam, however, is in an exceptionally good mood.”

  I imagine the photo I sent him helped with that, though I can’t deny that he always seems to up the ante. I thought I owned him with that picture, but his response—your next orgasm will be mine—sent a ripple of lust through me, making me putty in his damn hands.

  Before I can reply, a cute blond waitress stops at our table. “Can I start you off with some drinks, ladies?” she asks.

  “We’re actually all set to order,” Mallory says with a sheepish smile.

  “Two fettucine Alfredos,” I tell her with a firm nod.

  Okay, so we’re totally predictable and always get the fettucine Alfredo, but it’s like sex in your mouth every single time.

  “And we’ll also take two glasses of your house chardonnay,” Mallory finishes.

  The waitress smiles at us, and it seems she finds our twin-like behavior cute while she gathers up our menus then hurries off to fetch our orders. That’s always been our way, Mallory and I. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister. And coming from divorced parents who hate each other—and who I’m not entirely close to either, having left them both back in Louisville—I appreciate how loyal Mallory is to me. I learned a different type of love when I met her.

  “So, the time is counting down,” Mallory says, dragging me from my thoughts. “Three days until you climb into Liam’s bed.”

  I laugh softly. We never shy away from talking about my lust for Liam. Mallory’s known I’ve wanted him since day one. It’s never been awkward, and I think that’s because Mallory isn’t close to Liam like I am to Jackson. “To be perfectly honest,” I say, reaching for my napkin and placing it on my lap, “I’m less worried about being in his bed than I’m more worried about not wanting to get out of it. What if I find out he’s this amazing guy and not at all what Jackson claims him to be?”

  “He is an amazing guy,” she counters. “And why would finding out that he’s a great guy be such a bad thing?”

  The waitress returns then with our wine and places our glasses down in front of us. I wait for her to leave before responding, “It’s a bad thing because I don’t want to hurt Jackson. I’m loyal to him, not to Liam. So as hot as Liam is, or even how amazing he is in bed, I can’t let it go beyond this weekend.”

  Mallory takes a sip of her wine. “Honestly, I don’t even understand this feud between them. I wish they would just tell us what happened.”

  “That’s the frustrating part.” I nod, then take a long sip of my wine, savoring the citrusy hints of the chardonnay. “Jackson’s mood has been horrible all week. He’s barely talked to me. And the only words he has said are work related.” I sigh heavily, hoping he gets over it soon. “The anger they have toward each other is raw. So, if you ask me, I think they are probably just a lot alike, and these two alphas can’t seem to figure out how to be friendly toward each other.”

  Mallory nods agreement. “Just be careful okay? I don’t know, I’ve got this bad feeling about it all. Someone is going to get hurt here.”

  “Well, it won’t be me.” I glance into the mirror that’s behind Mallory, seeing my hair is sticking up from the wind outside. I settle the unruly strands into place then add, “I get to have this weekend with Liam, and that’s it. I have no idea why Jackson hates Liam so much, but I can’t hurt Jackson. I’m all he’s got.” Because as much as I don’t have a family life, neither does Jackson.

  “That’s why you’re such a good friend,” Mallory comments, giving her sweet smile. “I’m sure Jackson knows that. He’ll get past this and realize he’s being silly, and that you did this for a good cause.”

  Part of me wants to believe her. The other part of me knows that I did this so that I could be with Liam for a weekend. I knew the second he saw my name on the charity auction’s list, he wouldn’t stop betting until he won the weekend with me. I did feel bad about that, a little. Though I’m also thinking of me. I need to kill this lust for Liam, and kill it quickly. I’ve been without a steady boyfriend for
three years, and I know that’s because no one compares to Liam.

  To get the focus off me for a little while, I ask her, “What about your date? Any word on who bought you?” Mallory went onstage three people after me. The bidder had won her through a telephone bid of fifty thousand dollars.

  Mallory half-shrugs. “The only thing I know is that we had to change our date from this weekend to start on Tuesday morning and end on Thursday instead.”

  “Why?”

  “Scheduling conflict or something.” She fiddles with the edge of the napkin on the table. “Anyway, Liam didn’t mind that I took a couple days off during the week, so that was that.”

  I ponder. “You still don’t know who the man is that placed the bet?”

  “Nope, and it’s beyond creepy. I mean, I really hope I’m not dealing with some sick serial killer who likes blondes.”

  I laugh; my girl is always dramatic. “His name will be recorded with the event organizer so I think you’re probably safe.”

  “That’s true,” she says with obvious relief. Apparently, she hadn’t considered that. “Regardless,” she adds with a firm voice, “keep your phone on this weekend. I’ll text you as soon as I know who he is so that you have his name and his details in case I go missing.”

  “Of course,” I reassure her with a soft laugh. “Who knows, though, maybe you have a secret admirer who’s been lusting after your hot ass for months.”

  “Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes. “Exciting things like that never happen to me. I expect my weekend date to either be with a man twice my age or someone boring as hell.”

  “Positive thinking,” I remind her.

  Mallory waves me off and grins from ear to ear. “I positively know that you are going to have a wildly wicked weekend.”

  I grin back. “I positively know that, too.”

  Just as we laugh, the waitress delivers our pasta to the table, setting mine down first. I inhale the comforting scents of butter and cream. I lift my wineglass. “To wild adventures.”

  She clinks my glass with hers. “Hear! Hear!”

  Liam

  In the central business district, I sit behind my desk in the corner office on the fiftieth floor. It’s a typical Wednesday afternoon in the modern offices of Maxwell LLC, having spent my morning in meetings. I’m preparing for another long round later this afternoon, discussing the Bakker deal to solidify the offer for my clients. Outside my door, the employees of Maxwell LLC hustle, getting the job done. I’m proud of what my law firm has become in the ten years since I left my mentor at one of Los Angeles’s top firms to go out on my own. I played the game right, schmoozed the right people, and Maxwell LLC is now a leading contender in corporate law.

  And yet as I glance out the bank of windows behind my desk, staring off into the distance at the mountains, I know that while professionally I’m right where I want to be, my personal life has taken a considerable blow. That’s not because I’ve spent too much time working rather than investing my time in a relationship.

  Aria. That’s my trouble right there.

  Ever since I walked into a meeting at Jackson’s law firm, finding his new assistant with the expressive eyes and the chemistry burning between us, no one else compares to her. I’ve tried, and tried hard, to forget her.

  That’s the problem. She’s unforgettable.

  I draw in a deep breath, staring down at typical, heavy Los Angeles traffic, knowing I must play my cards right. I cannot fuck this up. I get one weekend with her. This is my only shot. I need to ensure that by the end of the weekend her loyalty shifts to me.

  “Vivian Markle is on line one for you.”

  At the sound of Mallory’s voice through the speaker on my phone, I spin in my chair to again face the doorway. She is sitting behind her desk in the office across from mine, her eyes glued to her computer monitor. I press line one and scoop up the phone. “Good afternoon, Vivian.”

  “Hello, Liam,” she replies in her seductive voice. “I hope life is well.”

  “Incredibly well, thank you.” Vivian and I have a very professional relationship, but I’ve never done corporate law with her. She is the owner of a high-class sex club here in the city, and she’s my supplier for all things kink related. I have plans for Aria this weekend. I want her heart. But first, I’ll claim her body. “I need to schedule a visit tonight, if possible,” I say.

  “Of course,” she replies, “do you know what time you’ll be arriving?”

  “Will seven work for you?”

  “That will be fine. See you then, Liam.”

  “Goodbye, Vivian.” I hang up the phone, placing it back onto the receiver, glancing at Mallory who’s sitting at her desk, busy on the phone. She normally would have planned all my travel arrangements, but this weekend is personal to me. I can’t chance that Mallory will tell Aria about my plans. I want to surprise her. Though Aria also needs to be prepared, so I reach for my phone again and enter the number of Jackson’s office that Mallory wrote down earlier on a sticky note.

  The phone rings twice before Aria’s soft voice says, “Jackson Keller’s office.”

  “Hello, Aria.”

  A long pause.

  When she speaks again, her voice sounds even more sultry now. “Mr. Maxwell, shame on you for making a personal call during work hours.”

  This is the game she and I play. She tempts me, and she uses that to make me hunger for her. “I am the boss,” I remind her.

  She laughs. “Ah, yes, but I am not.”

  “Is Keller working you to the bone over there?” I ask, hearing the bite in my voice. “You know there’s a job always waiting for you here.”

  “I’m sure we can find more interesting things to talk about than my boss, don’t you think?”

  “Possibly,” I reply playfully.

  “You have exactly one minute so let’s not waste it.”

  I turn in my swivel chair and glance out the window again to the high-rise where Jackson’s office is housed, almost able to imagine Aria behind her desk. Her legs crossed, her sex hot and wet as she reacts sensually to my voice in the same way my cock is hard reacting to hers. “I’m calling to let you know that you’ll need to pack a bag this weekend.”

  “Oh,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice. “Do I need a passport?”

  “No, we’re staying local.”

  “Any hints on where we’re going?”

  “Absolutely none.”

  She laughs quietly and then her laughter abruptly ends, telling me Jackson has come to her desk. I wouldn’t put it past the fool that he’s been listening in on all her conversations to catch when I would call. “Thank you for calling, Mr. Maxwell.” Another pause, and then she adds quietly, obviously to avoid Jackson’s eavesdropping, “Now stop bothering me at work. You know the rules. You can’t see or speak to me before the weekend. That’s all you paid for.”

  “Rules are meant to be broken,” I tell her firmly.

  “Not these rules.”

  My mouth creases in heated amusement. “That sounds like you’re telling me what I can and cannot have, Aria?”

  “That’s because that is what I’m saying.”

  There’s the push in her voice that she does so well. The edge that she knows drives me fucking crazy. It’s a game. She knows it. So do I. She pushes and pushes and pushes, teasing and toying with me, knowing how much I want to take control. “Do you know what happens when you cage a beast, Aria?” I ask her slowly, feeling the burn of power slide through my veins.

  Her breath hitches through the phone line, and her voice, while firm, heats with promise. “He sleeps.”

  The phone line goes dead.

  I lean back in my chair and absorb the way she conjures such dominance in me. It’s what I’ve always found so intriguing about her. She makes me want to own her. She’s sassy and strong and sexy, and every goddamn thing that I want. She has no idea what she’s started here today. I suspect she thinks I’ll find what she’s said cute, and that
I’ll patiently wait for her like she’s told me that I must do.

  Aria doesn’t know everything there is to know about me.

  Yet.

  Aria

  Wednesday’s conversation with Liam remains heavy on my mind on Thursday, while I sit behind my desk in my office across from Jackson’s. I tease Liam, and I’m not sure why I do it. Maybe it’s because I can. I like that I hold power over a man like Liam. It’s addictive. It’s sinful. It makes me feel powerful.

  Through the glass walls of my office, I stare into Jackson’s office, seeing his brows draw together tight. He’s not wearing his suit jacket and his cuffs are rolled up, which tells me he’s feeling flushed. He’s not happy, that much I can tell. His mood has slowly and surely been worsening as we get closer to the weekend. I understand why—he doesn’t want me anywhere near Liam. It’s why I’ve never allowed this thing to happen with Liam. Hell, it’s the only reason. Because I care for Jackson. Deeply. And I won’t hurt him by being with the man who Jackson hates so much.

  I glance at the time on my computer monitor and see that it’s nearly noon. I can’t leave today with Jackson being so miserable. Hoping to lighten his mood, I leave my desk and move toward his modern large corner office wondering if I can get him happy by filling his belly. “I was thinking I could go and grab us some lunch,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.

  He doesn’t even look up, his voice tight, surly. “Sure.”

  “Thai?” It’s his favorite.

  “Sure.”

  “Pad Thai?”

  “Sure.”

  The third “sure” in a few seconds can’t be good. I hate this. Every part of it. I hate how much I want Liam. I hate that I’m looking forward to this weekend. Because I hate what it’s doing to Jackson. “You’re not still mad at me, I hope.” I enter his office, shutting the door behind me. We’ve been avoiding this conversation all week but I need Jackson to be okay with all this. “My loyalty is to you, and always will be to you.”

  Jackson heaves a long sigh and glances up, his stormy green eyes narrowed, mouth set into a firm line. “It’s impossible for me to be mad at you, Aria, and you know this. I’m concerned for you.”