Playing with the Boss (Red Hot Read Book 2)

by Max Henry

  “For what?” A gentle hand rests against my bare chest, my heart pounding against her touch.

  “To let me do them tonight.”

  She takes me by surprise, pushing out of my hold despite every other ounce of her body telling me she’s ready and willing: peaked nipples, flushed cheeks, and the repeated tensing of her thighs. She’s aroused, no matter what her voice of reason currently tells her.

  “This is crazy. I shouldn’t be here.”

  I grab her wrist as she reaches for her purse. “Wait.”

  A second passes before she finds the strength to look at me.

  The desire remains in her eyes.

  “We’ll cancel going out and grab a drink at the hotel bar instead,” I say. “We’ll do what I said and go talk about your job. About how you can keep it.”

  She’s not going to like this one little bit.

  “I’d rather go home if my career hinges on whether I give sexual favors or not.”

  Especially if she thinks that. “No. Of course, it doesn’t.” Although I’d willingly take whatever she offered.

  The doubts are clear as day in the furrow of her brow. “One drink, still at Delaney’s, and we’ll get something light to eat.” Her gaze searches mine before she adds. “But please, Mason. This is important to me, so I’d appreciate if you could separate what just happened here, whatever this is between us”—she gestures back and forth with her hand—“and focus on helping me keep my job. Okay?”

  “I promise.”

  We’ll talk shop, and then I’ll fuck her.

  Because whatever happens tonight, I will fuck her.

  FIVE

  Lisa

  The air is noticeably hotter the further into the place we go. Delaney’s is a staple among the young, single executives. It upholds an air of sophistication thanks to the heritage building that house the establishment, yet anybody who’s a regular here knows what kind of debauchery goes on at the end of the night once the drinks have flowed for a few good hours. Rolled timber edges the bar; the walls painted a regal shade of emerald.

  Still. I wasn’t about to agree to a drink in the hotel bar when the sheer proximity would make it easy for Mason to work his charm and coax me back to his room.

  Because he would have. Without a doubt.

  And I would have gone, too.

  The heartbeat in my ears matches the deep bass as I search the room for a free table. Two women in midi skirts and bralettes step toward the bar to reveal empty seats at a table along the side wall. Mason’s hand rests on my shoulder as he tucks me into his side and directs us toward them. I swallow nervously, my mouth suddenly dry when I look up at him and catch sight of the ink peeking out from his chest, perfectly coiled around the very base of his throat. The sight of his bare torso, tattooed and chiseled to perfection took my breath away at the hotel. I knew his skin wasn’t bare from the glimpse I had of his forearms this morning, but seeing him stand there in nothing but his boxer briefs?

  Even a blind woman would have sensed the flawlessness that stood before her.

  “You okay?” He misinterprets my silence when I remain silent, gawking at him.

  “Fine.” Except for the dire need to unwrap this package and savor in every inch of the skillfully decorated sculpture that is his body.

  “Would you like to choose our order?” I opt for polite and cordial as I slide onto a wooden seat adjacent to him.

  He hooks a foot around the leg of my chair and drags it closer. “Later.”

  I rest my palms on the table to steady myself while my seat jerks toward him.

  His eyes are hooded, his appraisal obvious as he roams his gaze the length of me. “How the fuck do you manage to make nine-to-five look so goddamn sexy?”

  “I really don’t know.” But I’m willing to bet it’s the same way he makes a suit look like a goddamn erotic masterpiece.

  “So.” I lean forward, elbows on the table to accentuate my assets. “What do I have to do to stay employed?” I might not be ready to spread my legs to save my career, but I’m not above using my feminine wiles to get ahead.

  His stance relaxes; his arm slung casually over the empty chair on his other side. “Prove your outstanding sales skills to me.”

  I reach out and spin a coaster on the tabletop beneath my fingertip. “How would you like me to do that?”

  Mason leans a little to one side and produces his wallet. He slides a single bill out onto the table and then palms it across to me while he pockets the leather billfold again.

  “I want you to take this twenty and bring me back one hundred.”

  “You want me to hustle?” I lift an eyebrow.

  “I want you to barter, trade, or scheme. I want you to do whatever it takes to quintuple my investment.”

  “Whatever it takes?” I challenge, leaning forward a little to ensure the top of my breasts are as full as possible.

  His gaze drops to the desired location. “Within reason. Do that, and not only will I make sure you aren’t in the firing line, but I’ll suggest you receive a pay rise that adequately recognizes your exceptional role in keeping the company afloat.”

  This is going to be a breeze. I give Mason a confident smile and slide the bill from the table as I rise to my feet. All my fears about going along with this, melt away. I can do this. I can totally do this.

  “One more thing, Lisa.”

  A shiver ripples the length of my spine at the sound of my name off his tongue. “Yes?”

  “You have one hour.”

  SIX

  Mason

  The idea hit me on the way here from the hotel; simple, and a little bit of fun for both of us. I originally planned to give her all night to complete the task, the intention to use it to keep her here with me as long as I could. But one look at her shapely figure held tight within that fitted skirt and my cock had other plans.

  She has an hour. Any longer than that and I’ll make damn sure we finish what we started last weekend—privacy of bathroom stall, or not.

  I lean back and watch as she inconspicuously approaches the bar. At first, the people around her pay no mind, and yet with a few simple changes in her posture she has every man around her taking notice… including me.

  Her ass is a perfect peach in the rich red material, the color choice only accentuating her tan skin. She leans her elbows on the counter, popping her hips back to stick her butt out, the ridiculously high heels she has on only pushing the firm globes higher.

  Fuck, I want to bite that ass.

  My fingertips dig into my thigh as the man to her right leans in to make conversation She smiles sweetly at him, all demure charm as she keeps her gestures small, her chin down. She plays the part of a submissive beautifully, and it takes everything in me not to march over there and steal her away.

  What was I thinking, giving her this challenge? Sure, I want her here for purely physical reasons, but I’m not that much of an asshole that I can’t genuinely assess her dedication to her job—especially when she damn near begs me to with those damn doe eyes of hers. I thought it would be a great way to test her mettle, to see if she could rise to the challenge. But so far there’s only one thing that rises, and its encased in my slacks.

  The man laughs at her comment as he flags down the bartender. I watch with keen interest while she proceeds to order a drink through the guy, seemingly making out she lost her money. Twelve excruciating minutes later, and she flashes me another twenty-dollar bill as the man walks away, the scowl on his face telling me she shot him down.

  Good girl.

  Her charade continues as she moves to the far end of the bar and tries again. But either these men watched what I just did, or she’s struck ice because not one of them bite.

  Her brow furrows as she adjusts her skirt—not down, but up. Fuck me sweet. The hem rests mid-thigh, the line of the fabric only making those round cheeks seem fuller.

  Her critical eye works the room as she sucks first her bottom lip between her teeth to pinch i
t, and then her top, repeating the action over and over. I mistake the gesture for nerves at first, but when she takes a step forward to hunt down her next mark, I realize why she did it: her lips are swollen and pouty from all that stress.

  Clever.

  The next fool goes down hard when he catches sight of the bombshell headed his way. Lisa leans on his arm, gesturing to each side of the bar as though lost. He gives her a warm smile before pointing out the general direction of the ladies room. Relief washes through me in a surprising surge as she steps away and the man returns his interest to the group of friends he’s with.

  Thank fuck for that, because one more flex of her fingers around his bicep and I would have been out of this seat like a goddamn rocket. I was an idiot for thinking this would be torture for her. The only person enduring hell is me.

  I flag down the waitress and order a drink as Lisa emerges from the ladies and fucking well beelines for the man again. What is she doing? A brief conversation ensues, part of which the waitress blocks as she delivers my drink.

  “Could I help you with anything else?” The heavy-lidded look the waitress gives me tells me what she hopes for.

  “No. Thank you.” The only hole I plan to drill tonight currently rests a hand on her cleavage in fake shock on the other side of the room.

  The young waitress leaves, and I lift the drink to my lips while Lisa seemingly has the man on a wild goose chase. He searches high and low, no doubt for an imaginary purse.

  The last of my scotch trickles down the back of my throat as her hustle wraps up fifteen minutes later with the man appearing to pass her a twenty to stop the crocodile tears.

  Dumb fuck never once questions why a pretty woman like her is out alone.

  The man and his friends move on, more than likely convinced she’s some nutcase after that performance. Her face changes in a heartbeat, returning to the soft, demure woman she portrayed first as she heads for the bar again, flashing me her three twenties at her hip.

  She struggles to get another sucker until the end of the hour, her last mark wrapping up with seconds to spare as I make a point of checking my watch often. The woman she targets exchanges forty dollars for Lisa’s earrings in what has to be the strangest transaction I’ve seen in a bar.

  Must have been some earrings.

  “One hundred.” Lisa slaps the bills on the table as she drops into the chair, seemingly exhausted. “Those damn things were worth five times what she paid, you know?”

  “I admire your dedication.” I also admire the way her breasts strain at the restriction of her blouse.

  “What’s my reward, then?” She cocks an eyebrow, gaze moving between the money and me. “Does this mean my job is guaranteed safe?”

  I can’t help but chuckle. God, I’m an asshole. “Oh, no, baby. I’ve got no say when it comes to that. The best I can do it write you a good report, so you’re seen as less expendable than others.” The rage is near palpable as she straightens in her seat. “Question is, how far will you go to get that report?”

  “Blackmail.” She juts her chin defiantly. “You think you can get what you want out of me with blackmail?” A bitter laugh falls from her lips. “I told you,” she hisses, leaning forward. “I’m not going to trade sexual favors for my job.”

  “Then trade them for some physical relief.” I lean forward also, caging her against the table with my leg, so she has no way to leave easily. “I plan to get what I want from you the way I get everything else I want.”

  “And how would that be?”

  “By making you realize it’s what you want too.”

  SEVEN

  Lisa

  He doesn’t have much of a task ahead of him. With every blow he gives my resolve, it crumbles a little further.

  God. The man’s lips, that jawline. His face is the kind that incites a woman to sin, and with the way my core buzzes right now, I’d be first in line to tick all seven off my list.

  “I’m sure the board would love to hear about your unethical practices,” I threaten weakly.

  He knows as well as I do that I wouldn’t have the brass to face up to my superiors with accusations that paint me in the same red light as Mason.

  “I’m sure they wouldn’t fucking care,” he counters, reaching for his glass with a nonchalant glaze in his eye. “Half of them have done much worse. You’d shudder if you saw the kinds of things HR are paid to cover up.”

  “Old boys’ club, huh?”

  “Of the worst kind.” He glowers at his empty glass. “I think we should go somewhere else to eat.”

  “Why?” I tug the menu card from the display in the center of the table. “The kitchen will be closed anywhere else this time of night.”

  “At a dive, sure.” His nose actually wrinkles at the thought. “Not at an upper-class establishment.”

  “I’m fine with buffalo wings. Honestly.”

  “I’m not.” He waves a coaster between two fingers before slamming it on the table.

  “What’s your issue?” I refuse to move from my seat, even though he rises from his. “You asked me to come out with you on the pretense of work. You then lure me back to your hotel room so you can test the waters, see if you can get a quick fuck out of me, and now that you lost your little game”—I gesture to the money he swipes from the table—“you want to leave and rub your expensive tastes in my face. Grow up, Mason. Nobody likes an entitled jerk.”

  He catches my arm as I rise from my seat, prepared to march my ass out of the place and to the nearest cab.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Home.”

  “I’m not done with you, though.” What I can only describe as a flash of rejection washes over his face.

  “Everything okay here?”

  I whip my head to the left to find a well-meaning guy in a rumpled suit looking between the two of us.

  “Everything’s fine,” Mason barks.

  The guy narrows his gaze on Mason’s grip on my arm and then addresses him. “I’ll ask the lady.” He shifts his concerned eyes my way before repeating, “Everything okay?”

  “Fine.”

  He seems unconvinced, especially when my leg collects the vacant seat behind me as Mason positions himself sideways between the two of us.

  The guy steps back, forced to by Mason’s broad shoulders. “Let her go, pal. Anyone can see she’s scared.”

  “I’m not rea—”

  “I’m sorry,” Mason quips to the guy, “but do you see me injecting myself into your business?” He lifts an eyebrow; hand still tight on my arm. I can feel the anger as it radiates through him. “No. You don’t. Now fuck off out of mine.”

  “Would you rather take this outside?” Two of the guy’s buddies quit their conversation and step up a few feet away.

  This whole situation has taken a nosedive south.

  “I apologize if this was confusing,” I offer sweetly as I twist my arm in Mason’s hold to insert myself in the middle of the mess, “but this whole thing is my fault. Really.”

  “Lady, nobody should handle you like that.” The well-meaning guy jerks his chin toward my twisted blouse, mangled in Mason’s tight grip.

  Mason edges forward, yet I stop him with my free hand to his chest. I give a little tug on my captive arm and force him to let it go. “It’s a little embarrassing, but—” I lean into the stranger “—I like to role-play.”

  The guy’s eyes go wide when I lean back with my lips pulled tight in apology.

  “What did you say?” Mason asks with a stern frown.

  “Later, honey.” I give his chest a couple of condescending pats for good measure before turning back to the stranger. “Thank you, though. It was lovely of you to step in for me.”

  He sighs heavily out his nose, glancing at Mason and myself. “Well, be mindful of how your games look to other people in the future, huh?”

  “We sure will.” I use all my ability to turn Mason and shunt him toward the exit. “Y’all enjoy the rest
of your night.”

  My heels dig into the wooden flooring as I shove a bristling Mason toward the door. “Go.”

  He wraps a possessive arm around my shoulders and escorts me from the bar, throwing a few dirty looks the guy’s way for good measure. “I wasn’t done with him.”

  “I know,” I grumble. “But you said you weren’t done with me either, so how about we restrict your troublemaking to one person at a time, huh?”

  He frowns down at me as we break apart to step out into the night. “I didn’t ask you out tonight to cause trouble, Lisa.”

  “Oh yeah?” I check the street for a cab with its light on. “Then why?”

  His silence strikes me as I stand a few steps from the curb. Unable to find a free ride, I sigh and turn to grill Mason for an answer.

  But he’s not there.

  EIGHT

  Mason

  Things got out of hand.

  At first, I thought she’d be up for more fun, given the hot and heavy session we’d shared at the club the weekend before. But then I saw the real, human side of her at the hotel and I considered doing what I could to help her, but that resolve was short-lived the moment she worked that goddamn bar like an angel in stiletto heels.

  A need took root deep inside of me. The sort of crazed possession I’ve never felt with a woman before. Even with my ex, I tolerated her when I wasn’t fucking her. I’ve just… I’ve never had a real connection with a woman before.

  But Lisa.

  I prodded and poked at her, bating her for a response, because I love her wit and sass. I love the way she stands up for herself and isn’t afraid to fight back.

  That fire.

  I need it. I want to burn in her embrace.

  And that, when I’m here to assess her role among others, is not okay.

  I had to bail. I had to leave before I did something seriously stupid like force her back to my hotel and spend the night torturing her with sex until she gave in.

  Instead, I spent what was left of the evening torturing myself, jerking off to the memory of the night. Despite all that tugging, I didn’t get her out of my mind all weekend. Not one little bit.