Bossy: A Billionaire Boss Office Romance (Alpha Second Chances Book 4)

by Rowena

  We both sort of stared at each other for a while, slowing down our steps until we figured out about the same time that we knew each other.

  “Nina?” he said wondrously, his beautiful blue eyes—sans glasses—widening a bit and a small smile beginning to spread on his face, almost dazzling me.

  “Brent!” I pretty much squeaked in joy.

  Jesus, the years had been good to him—he was a certified hunk.

  I ran toward him, closing the distance between us in a hurry and we slammed into a tight hug.

  At first I had just been tickled by seeing a familiar face and I was relieved that it belonged to someone I felt I knew pretty well—someone who’d been my best friend at some point—but as Brent’s hard, muscular body gripped mine, his strong arms enveloping my soft body, it began to sink in even more what the years had done to us.

  We were a bit past the teenager stage, but still very young and hormonal, and very distinctly male and female.

  My generous, pillowy breasts pressed against his hard chest, and other parts of us lining up sent awareness shooting through my body, raising my temperature astonishingly quickly.

  I was still a virgin, but my usually quiet pussy suddenly got chatty, begging for a bit more of what she got a hint of as our pelvises pressed against each other.

  I pulled away, startled at the sudden animal lust taking over me.

  I took a step back and examined Brent again—this time from up close.

  He was well-built and handsome, no doubt, and he looked a lot different without his glasses—so much so that it was a wonder I recognized him at all.

  I suppose the general way he held himself tipped me off, helped along by the way his blue eyes bore into mine when he realized he might know me.

  Brent and I launched into a quick catch-up conversation, filling in the years with places lived, schools attended, intended majors.

  At some point, in the new deep voice I still couldn’t get over, he said, “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, Nina. Of all the college acceptances, I picked this one, and here you are. Looks like we’re destined to be friends!”

  I tried not to show how much my heart had fallen at his words and chastised myself for expecting anything else.

  How could I think for a moment we could be anything more?

  We’d been separated for ten years, and we’d only ever been friends way back then—what else was he supposed to say?

  Plus, it was obvious that’s all he’d ever see me as—I was still chubby and unremarkable-looking, in general—no lustrous, eye-catching hair to offset my staggering plainness, no sassy beauty mark adding allure to my face or neck.

  Of course I was destined to be friend-zoned—how could he see me as anything but his chunky, brown-skinned friend?

  But no matter how much reason I tried to talk into myself, I couldn’t stop wanting more from him, more of him.

  Where the hell had it come from?

  He was a fine specimen, but I didn’t know current Brent at all, despite having talked to him for a while as we reacquainted ourselves.

  All I knew was that the sound of his new rich masculine tones had sunk into my memory, and I longed to hear him when he wasn’t around.

  We easily became good friends again, and this time, we had way more to talk about than games and toys.

  We ended up having a few classes together, and Brent ended up having particular trouble with one, so we spent quite a bit of time going over class material.

  At the end of an all-nighter before a test, he thanked me and said, “You saved my ass again. How is it that you always manage to rescue me—one way or another—whenever we run into each other?”

  I didn’t really know what to say to that so I just shrugged and smiled as I looked away, unable to take his eyes on me.

  “You have a really pretty smile, you know,” he said in a suddenly serious tone, and I felt myself blush furiously, my skin heating up so much, I almost wanted to dunk my head in ice before I got brain damage.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, though I’m not completely sure it came out intelligible; the attention he was giving me at that moment was absolutely demolishing my faculties.

  Sure, I’d had a small crush on him that crept up on me during our friendship as kids, but what I felt for him now felt far more dangerous.

  I was too invested in every look and smile he gave, too curious about what he looked like underneath his casual school wear.

  The sight of his bicep jumping whenever he moved an arm deranged me, and it seemed like I couldn’t stop my eyes from going to his lips.

  I wanted to look after him in a way that was inappropriate for what we were—just friends.

  To make things worse, I watched him change girlfriends every few months—all attractive, slim women who seemed nice enough and never threatened by me, of course. Why would they be?

  That is, until one particular girl—Stacey.

  “She thinks you’re in love with me,” Brent said lightly as we headed for the library one day, as if the notion was absolutely ridiculous, but his eyes searched my face for a reaction and response.

  I didn’t blame Stacey for being concerned about the time Brent and I spent together, but it’s not like I was going to embarrass myself and make a move on him; I was clearly not his type.

  I forced a laugh and said, “What?” then changed the subject.

  I know, I know—smooth.

  I did the next best thing to make up for the fumble—once a classmate took interest in me, I started entertaining it.

  It was nice to get some attention finally, and the guy wasn’t bad-looking.

  Plus, I didn’t want to stay alone, longing for something I couldn’t have.

  What a loser I’d be if I kept pining after Brent, right? Especially when it was clear as a Spring morning that beautiful Brent wasn’t about to give me the time of day.

  This big girl needed some love too.

  I introduced my interested classmate to Brent one day, not really expecting anything, but a strange change came over my old friend’s face.

  Brent’s eyes locked on the guy in a way that alerted something in me, but I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

  Everything else about the interaction was neutral—the greeting words chosen and his tone of voice—but it was as if Brent didn’t blink the whole time the three of us shot the breeze.

  Things took a definite turn after that.

  My admirer backed off inexplicably, and when I finally worked up the courage to approach him and ask why he hadn’t asked me to lunch again, he said the oddest thing, “Obviously, you’re taken.”

  He shrugged, not meeting my eyes.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  I’d almost said that I never even had a boyfriend, but phew! Dodged that embarrassment.

  “Your friend, Brent,” he emphasized, finally looking me in the eye. “Clearly, you’re his property.”

  My body heated with anger.

  I definitely resented this guy’s choice of words, despite how much a part of me wanted them to be true.

  I also wanted to confront Brent, but what was I supposed to say? It’s not like I had solid evidence of relationship tampering.

  Ultimately, I decided Brent had done me a favor—a guy as spineless as my classmate had no business being with me. Scared off by a glare? Come on, now.

  I pushed him and his words from my mind, not daring to dignify his reasoning with further examination; after all, that dude was way off—no way Brent thought of me as his, not like that.

  But when Brent called me over to his dorm just a few days later, my primal alarms started sounding; something was definitely off.

  CHAPTER TWO - NINA

  Don’t get me wrong—I’d been to Brent’s room countless times: to pick him up before we headed to the caf, to shoot the breeze, to work on a project or toss test questions around or whatever, so I had no reason to think this time would be different and ignored my gut.

  Once
I stepped into his room, smiling at him in greeting, as usual, Brent pulled me to him with one arm while shutting and locking the door behind me with another, setting off my alarms again.

  “What?” I said stupidly, at a loss as to what had actually gotten into him.

  Were we about to have a fight?

  He looked sober and sort of steaming—almost like he was mad about something. I could practically see fumes coming off of him.

  But before I could begin to make sense of his actions or try to figure out what could be bothering him, his lips were suddenly on mine—blanking my mind of rational thought completely.

  I had dreamt about those lips many times, fantasized about kissing them many more times, and now those warm, beautiful kissers were on me.

  It felt electrical and intoxicating all at once, and my arms wrapped around his neck while our tongues danced with each other.

  The heat between his hard body and my soft curves increased, and I felt a tingle travel down my body until it reached my center.

  My pussy came to roaring life, wanting more as he pulled me closer and pressed his hardness against me.

  I gasped a little in shock—had I done that to him?

  I couldn’t believe it. Where had all of this come from?

  I didn’t really care about the answers—only that Brent kept doing what he was doing to my lips and my body as his hands gripped and caressed it.

  When I felt him start working on his belt, reality suddenly set in.

  Surely he didn’t plan for us to…?

  I reluctantly tore myself away from him, slightly alarmed.

  “Brent?” was all I could get out because my body was beginning to betray me and overrule the little bit of sense that had momentarily returned to me.

  We were both panting heavily, and watching my gorgeous best friend overtaken by desire kept mine churning, but what we were about to do was so wrong.

  I’d been on the verge of trying to move on from my obsession with him, and he still had a girlfriend as far as I knew, so there was no way I was about to become that woman—the other woman.

  “Brent, we can’t,” I said more firmly, impressing myself with the sturdiness of my voice, considering how I felt.

  “I want you,” he said huskily, his rumbling voice sending another sharp tingle from my ear to my hungry, wet core, and I started to lose the reasons why I was protesting at all.

  Here was the opportunity I’d dreamed about countless times laid out before me—the chance to get even closer to the man I was madly in love with.

  What was my problem again?

  Brent’s jeans crumpled to the floor and he started working on my top.

  I was bereft of words but not thoughts as I realized he was about to see a whole lot more of me—my lady lumps bare to his eyes pretty soon.

  Since my words had failed us, maybe the sight of my thick, naked body will stop him, and he’ll suddenly start pulling my top back down and his pants back up in disgust—he was used to chicks who could fit the clothes on mannequins, after all.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, as if reading my thoughts, then he flung my top away, followed quickly by the toss of my sensible black bra, exposing my ample twin jugs.

  “My god, you’re a goddess,” he said before bending to fill his mouth with one of my breasts.

  My nipple hardened under his sweeping stimulation, his moist tongue flickering over my flesh as he sucked on one breast and fondled the other.

  My underwear was pretty damp by then, and with Brent moving his mouth to my other breast while working on my jeans, I knew I was about to lose whatever moral battle I’d been fighting.

  I was still a bit self-conscious about my body, but my longing and desire overweighed it by far.

  Soon, I felt myself in a sort of daze—a state of paralyzing disbelief—because come on, how could this possibly be real?

  “Lie down,” Brent suddenly said, indicating his bed with his eyes and a tilt of his chin. “On your back.”

  His commanding tone left no room for disobedience.

  I tried not to think about his hungry blue eyes assessing my chunky backside now exposed to him as I headed for his bed and did as he said, my chest lifting and falling rapidly as fear, joy, and desire mingled in me.

  Should I tell him I’m a virgin? Will that ruin everything? What if he has a ‘no virgins’ rule?

  Then again, what if he thought I was just awful at the whole thing? If he knows it’s my first time, he’ll cut me some slack, right?

  I stopped thinking once he worked his shirt off and I was left to gape at his muscled torso and the tight, rippling abs leading my eyes down to his tented boxers.

  Christ, it was all real.

  His cock was hard, long, and ready, and in a few minutes or less, he’d be pushing it inside me.

  He crawled over me and my fear grew stronger as the momentous occasion neared—fear of what engaging in this intimate act could mean for us.

  If we made love to each other, there was no going back to the way things were.

  I thought he was going to slip his dick inside me right away, but his lips sought mine again and I found myself relaxing with his gentle kiss, my hands coming up to cup his head while we explored each other’s mouths again.

  Then his lips left mine to trail down my neck, and the sharp, tingling sensations kept up my distraction, making me twist and turn at the currents of electricity zipping through me.

  My yearning pussy started begging for him, and I felt myself thrust as if to encourage him to get going and start plowing me.

  But he kissed his way down my chest, holding on to my generous boobs as his tongue and lips skimmed my eager, desperate flesh all the way down my stomach.

  Then he started nibbling at my inner thighs.

  “You’re so wet,” he said before his mouth clasped my pussy, and I arched and probably yelped my pleasure loudly. Whatever sound escaped me was definitely more than a moan, and I felt helpless to what he was doing to my body as he licked and pulled at my sensitive folds, his tongue darting between them and over them, and then making me almost lose my senses when it flickered over my oversensitive clit.

  I was a brainless mush by the time he raised himself back up and guided the smooth head of his thick, stiff cock to my dripping entrance.

  Reason and logic still had a few points to make, but desire had them bound and gagged, and when Brent leaned forward a little as he started pushing his hard cock into my tiny, wet hole, everything but the need for more silenced.

  “You’re mine,” Brent growled into my ear, his words almost distracting me from the sharp pain of his rigid penis forcing my tight walls apart as my heart soared.

  Then he stopped moving, only partway in.

  “Shit, you’re so tight, Nina,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve never…” His face suddenly contorted as it seemed something took over him, and he pushed deeper inside with a bit more force.

  I thought he was all the way in until I chanced a glance downward and noticed he still had more to go.

  I gritted my teeth against the ache deep inside me, and despite the discomfort, Brent’s thick cock filling me felt right, and my slick, eager pussy was soon yearning for more.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged, though I knew he wasn’t going to.

  Instead of jamming the rest of his hard dick in, he started sliding it in and out, and my body relaxed under the new sensation, appreciating the gentle cock massage.

  Soon, I wanted him deeper, and I adjusted myself to wrap my legs around him and try to push him further inside.

  His pace increased, his thrusts got deeper and deeper until our pelvises slammed against each other.

  Pleasure overwhelmed me, and I matched his thrusts greedily, taking as much as I could get while still wanting more and more.

  His cock fucking my needy pussy felt like the most natural thing in the world, and when he started moving even faster and more desperately, I instinctively knew he was close to the ed
ge of orgasm.

  Knowing he was about to come from the tight squeeze of my cunt on his engorged dick took me closer to the edge myself, and when his thumb suddenly touched my clit and started massaging the oversensitive nub, I lost all control.

  As he slammed against me in his finishing thrusts, I came loudly and unexpectedly, shocked by the initial paralyzing contraction and the pulsating aftershocks of my climax as he squeezed our bodies together with a final tightening of his firm ass as he came inside me, our bodies flooding each other with orgasmic juices.

  I didn’t think about what that could mean then—I couldn’t think at all, still lost in the glittering emotions overtaking me—love, joy, and wonder.

  Ecstasy.

  Brent soon collapsed on top of me, and I relished the feel of our hearts beating hard and fast against our heated chests.

  I wrapped my arms around him, feeling like nothing could bring me down, grinning wide.

  It took Brent long enough to come around, but there we were—college seniors soon to graduate, and we had finally taken an important leap forward in our relationship.

  “I love you,” I said, the words escaping me in a breathless whisper, coasting on unadulterated affection and bliss.

  Brent stiffened, then said one of the worst things he could say—a phrase that never showed up in any of my fantasies after making love to him at last, “I’m sorry, Nina. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  My heart didn’t shatter exactly—it felt more like someone had shoved a knife through it and then tore a path upward.

  The feeling seemed astoundingly literal, the sudden searing chest pain leaving me speechless.

  Brent couldn’t have possibly meant those words—not after knowing how I felt about him and after taking what he had from me.

  He can’t possibly think he can just take it all back with an apology—that, with a snap of our fingers, it would be like it never happened. There’s no way he figured things could ever be the same.

  My throat started closing up, and I fought hard against the tears welling in my eyes, my mouth trembling with the effort, but I lost embarrassingly.

  “Listen, this doesn’t mean I won’t see you again,” he said, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. “We’re friends—always been—and it seems we’re destined to be, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”