Bossed

by Sloane Howell

  Devil Ethan: Don’t be a bitch. Don’t shit where you eat. If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

  Fuck!

  What I should’ve done was lock my phone in the safe and gone to work. Instead, I pulled out my phone again.

  Devil Ethan: Pussy-whipped motherfucker.

  I shrugged and pulled up the message thread.

  Me: I’m sorry.

  I hadn’t expected her to return my text. I should’ve called her or said it in person. When she was up against the wall, pinned and under my control, I was alive. Every time she challenged me I wanted nothing more than to claim her—own her with my cock. Fuck my name from her lips.

  But there was something more there. I loved that she could give it back just as hard as I dished it out. Boring women were just that—boring. Could Jenny Jackson be interesting for the rest of our lives? I didn’t think I would’ve sent an apology text if I didn’t believe it. Because I never apologized to anyone. Ever.

  The three dots started to jump and my heart followed suit. A lump formed in my throat that I had to gulp down. This was why I hadn’t called. I knew myself too well.

  Jenny: It’s not me you owe an apology to.

  Me: I already apologized to Jill.

  Jenny: Then why are you texting me?

  I tapped my chin. Could I let her in? It was easy to say it in my mind, but difficult to put into practice, like most things. Theory didn’t match reality for a reason. It’s why most couples failed. Anyone could go listen to a therapist talk about communication and things people should do. But could they actually do it?

  Fuck it.

  Me: Because I need to know you don’t hate me.

  Silence.

  More silence.

  I checked the time stamp and it’d been two minutes of eternity since I’d made myself vulnerable to a woman for the first time in history.

  My hands were sweaty. I said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing. It was inappropriate. I was going to lose it all. I was going to reduce my company to rubble over a woman.

  Jenny: I don’t hate anyone.

  Exhale.

  Breathing.

  Relief.

  Confusion.

  Why’d it take her so long to come up with that response? The Queen of Snark could’ve had a hundred insults ready at her fingertips in a matter of seconds. Was it because she had feelings for me too? The tells were all there. I could have been in jail if she’d wanted. You couldn’t just grind your dick against an employee in a dark conference room. It wasn’t exactly legal. My brain still doubted what my heart knew.

  I wanted to ask her if she had feelings for me. I wanted to hear it from her. It was eating me alive inside. But I couldn’t push things too fast and she still needed to respect me as her boss. Outbursts were what I did. It was my thing. I couldn’t change overnight, even though she made me want to. How could I risk my business just to make her happy? Was I capable of that?

  Smooth it over and buy yourself time to think. Don’t make decisions based on emotion.

  Me: I want you to work for me. I want us to get along.

  Jenny: You destroyed her. She’s a person with feelings.

  Fuck, this was going to be harder than I thought.

  Me: I apologized to her.

  Jenny: Words are cheap. Someone who values things for a living should know this.

  How was she so sexy and smart? It was a lethal combination.

  Me: Everyone knows what they sign up for here. It’s why they’re paid so well.

  Jenny: I don’t want to rehash this. It’s your business. Do what you want. But I won’t sit by and watch it happen.

  Goddamn it. Distract her. You’re losing this battle.

  Me: I wouldn’t mind rehashing you against the wall.

  I could practically see her blushing and staring at her phone. The tides were turning in my favor.

  Jenny: I’m sure you wouldn’t.

  So. Fucking. Feisty.

  My cock surged in my gym shorts. I could jerk off to her words on a screen and come in all of five seconds. I was sure of it.

  Me: The sounds you made in my ear made me think you wouldn’t either.

  Take that shit, Jenny Jackson. Don’t try and act like I didn’t notice.

  Jenny: I should really talk to HR about that on Monday. :)

  I might’ve been nervous if there wasn’t a smiley on the end of her text. Fuck that smiley and what it did to me. How the hell had I put myself in this situation? A situation where a colon and a closing parentheses could make me feel like I was floating, invincible to reality.

  Me: How is your father?

  I could never allow myself to be happy. She was finally opening up and I did what I always did before I could stop my fingers—brought the conversation back to reality. Maybe in her good mood she would open up to me more. Let me know more about her.

  Jenny: Medical bills are piling up. It’s why I took the job. I’m sure you knew there was a reason. You’re good at reading people. I wanted to tell you to fuck off. I almost did.

  I knew it!

  I wasn’t rejoicing in her misfortunes, just in the fact I’d pegged her correctly from the beginning. There was a reason she was warring with herself over accepting the position. I’d sensed it in my bones. It was nice to know my intuition hadn’t disappeared into my dick along with logic and reason. She’d told me her dad was sick, but it was the medical bills that were the issue.

  Before I could type back, my phone vibrated with another message.

  Jenny: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Thanks for asking but it’s nothing you should be concerned about.

  Me: It’s okay. I like when you tell me things.

  Jenny: Really? Coming from the guy who basically tells everyone to check their personal lives at the door every day?

  She should’ve been a fucking attorney.

  Me: We’re not at work.

  The contracts on the table glared back at me. I shrugged. She wasn’t at work.

  Jenny: You’re always working. Hearing about people’s personal lives isn’t your style.

  She was right. We both knew it. Fuck her for always being right. It killed me and I came alive at the same time. Goddamn this woman was perfect.

  Me: How about we start over on Monday? You try not to harangue me in front of employees. I’ll try to take people in private to tear them apart. Maybe we can make this work. Deal?

  After twenty seconds passed, I realized I was holding my breath waiting for a response.

  Jenny: Deal.

  Me: So what are you wearing?

  Jenny: See you Monday. :)

  Fucking smiley!

  I tossed my phone to the other end of the couch and looked at the contracts. When I bent over to get a better peek my still-hard cock jabbed into my stomach, and I groaned. I leaned back and glanced down at it tenting my shorts. All I saw was Jenny’s eyes as she took me deep into her throat.

  Fuck!

  How could I think about anything else but her? I did what any horny motherfucker would do. I leaned back, fisted my cock, and imagined her eyes on me as I shoved my dick into her mouth.

  After two strokes and her staring up at me from her knees, my balls had already tightened. Shutting her up with a mouthful of my dick got me just as worked up as when she’d fired insults in my direction. I stared down at where her face should be, imagining my hands fisting her hair while she took me into the back of her throat.

  A load crept up my shaft and I tried to hold it back with everything I had for just an extra second of imagining Jenny Jackson sucking me off and staring up at my face as I came in her mouth. I groaned and let loose, giving in to the intense pressure.

  Five seconds later I had a sticky goddamn mess all over my stomach.

  Chapter 9

  Jenny Jackson

  “I just don’t know. He made her cry. In front of everyone. I was so humiliated for her.”

  My bottle of beer landed on the cardboard coaster and shook the pub
table a little.

  Kelsey stared back, eyes wide, a smile slowly turning her lips up at the corner. “He pinned your arms against the wall?” She shook her head back and forth. “I told you.”

  Embarrassment flooded my cheeks and I glanced away. Donahue’s was an Irish pub–sports bar in the suburb we lived in. It was quiet and low-key, the way I liked it. Flat-screen televisions lined the walls with different baseball games on all of them. An L-shaped bar jutted out from the wall with dozens of liquor bottles on shelves behind it. Booths ran along the perimeter with cluttered drink-special signs and sports memorabilia strewn above them. It was where Dad and I always watched games until he could no longer leave the house. But it felt like an extension of home.

  I leaned in and lowered my voice. “I’m not saying it wasn’t pretty much the greatest sexual experience of my life—”

  “There’s a ‘but’ coming. There shouldn’t be a ‘but’ coming at this point.” Kelsey’s smile fell to a blank expression.

  “But.” I glared, half-jokingly. “It’s a bad idea.”

  “If getting fucked against a wall by a hot cocky millionaire is a bad idea”—she paused and shook her head in derision—“I don’t want to have any good ideas.”

  I started to speak and she cut me off.

  “Ever. All the bad ideas, they’re all mine. I want them all.” She laughed and hadn’t lowered her voice at all. The F-bomb echoed off the walls and drew stares in our direction.

  I blushed. “Will you keep it down?”

  She stared.

  “Point taken. Look, he doesn’t need anyone to feed his ego. Giving in to him would shoot it into the clouds.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest, and the words “Led Zeppelin” tightened across her boobs. Robert Plant would’ve been proud. “All I’m saying is if you don’t put your vagina to use, it’s going to close up on you. It can happen. It’s science.”

  Her deadpan delivery made me snort beer out of my nose. I waved her joke away with a flippant hand. “Why do I hang out with you?”

  “Because I’m awesome, duh!” She brought a rocks glass full of scotch to her lips. I’d never seen her drink anything else. For someone so quirky and eclectic, she was a creature of habit at her core.

  “I’m not giving him what he wants.” I shook my head. “He does need to learn a lesson though.”

  She cocked an eyebrow up. “This is interesting too. Go on.”

  I whipped out my phone. It was juvenile. I knew this. But I couldn’t help myself. Beer number four gave me just enough courage to toy with Ethan Mason a little.

  Me: Hey there.

  Immediate response.

  Ethan: Didn’t expect to hear from you today.

  I tapped my chin as Kelsey begged for a play by play. She scooted her barstool around until we were giggling like middle school girls at a cafeteria. This wasn’t me. It wasn’t her. But it was fun. How often did you get to fuck with a guy like Ethan?

  Me: Couldn’t stop thinking about…

  Ethan: Is that so?

  I had to be careful. Ethan wasn’t some idiot you met at a bar and made bad decisions with. He was sharp. Too sharp. He analyzed everything, down to the last word. Multiple times. He was a calculator, like me. Short and succinct was key.

  Me: Yep.

  Ethan: I’ll need specifics on what you were thinking about.

  Me: You’re a smart guy. Figure it out.

  “You’re far too good at this.” Kelsey chuckled.

  “I’ve never messed with a guy like this before. I kinda thought I was failing miserably. Why did we never do this when it was age appropriate?”

  She leaned back and stared at me like I was a funny bug. “Probably because you were too busy looking at baseball statistics and talking about WAR. Whatever the fuck that is. I still don’t have a clue.”

  “Wins above—”

  She shot me a glare and then glanced down at the phone. “Focus. And do not explain baseball stats and ruin this for me.” There was a laugh hidden behind her glare, but I didn’t press my luck.

  Baseball stats always just clicked in my brain. I couldn’t see how others couldn’t understand. Ethan did though. I could’ve talked to him about it all afternoon. My brain began to drift.

  “Focus, woman!” Kelsey gave me a playful slap to the back of my head.

  “Fine!” I looked back at my phone.

  Ethan: You never answered my last question.

  Hmm. Playing stupid never seemed to work with him. He’d always seen right through it.

  Me: Shoes.

  Ethan: Shoes? You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Jackson.

  My breath hitched. I didn’t even need to hear his voice for it to happen. When he said my name like that, I could picture it in my mind, hear it in my ear. It was his “cocky, smirking, I’ll take what I want from you” voice. It should’ve repulsed me, but it made me wet. I scissored my legs under the pub table.

  “Good God. He owns you.”

  I whipped my head around to Kelsey’s smug grin. “You’re full of it.”

  “Yeah right. He has you by the balls. The figurative ones you’ve had, well, since you were born.”

  I chuckled.

  “They hang low and to the left, in case you were wondering.” She sipped her scotch while I laughed.

  It was true. I didn’t back down from much. Perk of being raised by a single father.

  Me: Do I seem scared?

  Ethan: Nope. But you are.

  I squirmed in my seat. I think Kelsey might’ve too when she read it.

  “He’s so going to make you say his name into a pillow.”

  I gave her a hard stare. “We’ll see about that.”

  Me: What are you wearing?

  Kelsey’s goading and his cocky attitude put me on the offensive. Defense was boring anyway, and I knew it’d eat at him. He liked to be in control.

  Ethan: Black boxer briefs. It can be nothing if you’d like.

  I bit my knuckle, hard. Tingles ripped through me and I squeezed my thighs together. A vivid image of him stretched out on a leather couch, looking sexy as fuck, flooded my brain. Ripped abs, curved pecs, the bulge of his cock—all of the air left my lungs. Kelsey snatched the phone from my hand.

  “Holy fuck.”

  I yanked my phone from her. Part of me raged inside that she’d seen that message. Part of me wanted it to be for my eyes only. Was I jealous? I’d never been jealous of anything in my life. “Sorry. I’ve had enough fun, I think.”

  Something in me changed after that. Kelsey could sense it and didn’t joke back. She knew me. I wanted to go home.

  Me: That’s okay. See you Monday.

  I clicked my phone off and tossed it onto the table. “Sorry.”

  She put a hand on my shoulder. I tried to shrug it off but she kept it there. “It’s okay.”

  I moved my gaze up to her. “No, it’s not.”

  “You’re dealing with a lot right now. You need to allow yourself to have some fun.” She rubbed my neck and my shoulders relaxed.

  I dropped my stare back down to the table. “I don’t have time for fantasies. Dad needs me.”

  “Hey.” She lifted my chin with her index finger so that I was looking back up at her. “We’re in this together, okay?”

  “Okay.” I nodded.

  “You’re still a woman with fucking needs. Got it?”

  I nodded and she pulled me into a hug. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 10

  Ethan Mason

  One. Breathe. Two. Breathe. Three…

  I grunted at my sexual frustration right along with the barbell as I shoved it toward the ceiling. Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of my face and dripped below where I couldn’t see.

  “Bad form. Shouldn’t lift when you’re pissed.”

  Matt’s voice.

  I racked the barbell and sat up on the bench, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from my face. Matt was spent as well, looked like he’d just come fr
om a practice. His baseball cap was on backward and the fabric of his Under Armour shirt clung tight to him. I sometimes forgot how big he actually was under his baseball uniform.

  “I’m not pissed. Just trying to stay fit. That’s all.”

  “Right. Right. Nothing to do with a certain employee.” He quirked up an eyebrow like it was more of a question.

  “Haven’t even thought about her.” A lie. I never lied to him. Why did I lie? I had, in fact, talked to her, albeit through a text, so technically not a lie. But I had, in fact, thought about her nonstop since the exchange ended.

  It was odd though, like it wasn’t her. She was flirting. Her awkwardness at trying to be sexy made it sexier somehow. She turned my brain into a network of exposed wires rubbing against one another. Thoughts tried to connect then would short, then would take another path, until my brain was consumed by nothing but her.

  I wanted to take her, no matter where we were or who would see. Then I’d want to hear about her father—her problems. Then I’d want to kiss her. Then I’d want to hold her hand and take her to dinner. Then I’d want her to come on my fingers in the back of my car. Fucking fuck!

  I glanced up at Matt as he cracked an invisible whip.

  “Wah-peeshhhh.” His smile made it impossible to do anything but return it.

  “You’re so full of shit.” I grinned.

  His eyes widened with his smile. “Oh yeah, I’m the one who’s full of shit.” He glanced around my workout room on the bottom floor of my house. “What are you doing after this?”

  “I don’t know. What’s up?”

  “Nothing much. I need to run by Bed Bath & Beyond.”

  I cocked my head sideways. “Huh?”

  “Want to make sure I get first dibs on everything on your registry.” He appeared to try not to laugh. He failed.

  I dropped my stare to the floor and shook my head. “Such an asshole.”