Tempt The Boss

by Madison, Natasha

  “I have extra gear,” I pipe in. I totally don’t, but I’ll buy whatever he needs me to buy.

  She looks at me. “How about we go do the skating thing and see how you like it? You’ve never really been on skates, Gabe,” she proposes gently, and he must see it as a win in his favor, because he jumps up and hugs her, repeating ‘thank you’ over and over again.

  “Rachel, we’re going skating!” Gabe yells, running out of the room.

  “You look cute,” I tell her because she does look cute, but it’s more than that.

  “We aren’t dating, Austin. You can’t talk to me like that.” She shakes her head. “Please, don’t make this harder for me.” She keeps her voice low, and I advance on her, but she quickly brushes past me and heads into the kitchen, picking up the kids’ breakfast plates on her way to the sink.

  “What do we call you if we can’t call you Asshat?” Rachel turnsto me on her way up the stairs.

  “His name is Austin, so no more of that language, young lady. Now, go get dressed,” her mother instructs from the kitchen. Gabe grabs her hand to hurry her upstairs to get dressed.

  I head into the kitchen, finding Lauren bent over, loading the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. Her ass taunts me, and my cock is hard and ready to slide into her.

  Looking over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone, I walk over to her, placing my hands on her hips.

  Her body stills and then stiffens once my hands land on her. I press my hips forward so she feels me. The warmth of her body penetrates right through me. She snaps up straight, keeping her back to me. “I can’t seem to forget you,” I whisper in her ear as I sweep her hair to the side and kiss her neck. “I can’t think.” I run small kisses up the side of her neck as she tilts her head to the side to give me better access. I’m about to slip my hand inside her robe when I hear someone barreling down the stairs.

  My hands leave her hips and I back away from her, while Lauren slams the dishwasher closed. “I’m not quitting my job just so you can have your way,” she hisses as she walks past me. “Get ready, because there are more games to play, Austin.”

  She walks upstairs as I watch her, and I swear there’s a distinct swing to her hips.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  LAUREN

  He showed up like he just walked off a fucking catwalk modeling casual men’s fashion. His faded blue jeans fit him perfectly, hugging him in all the right places and making his package look huge. Okay, fine. He’s very well endowed, but fuck, those jeans just emphasize that fact. His blue Henley molds to his chest, shoulders, and arms, highlighting all his muscles right down to his trim waist, where the hem is tucked in at the sides in a way that’s obviously just his style. Topped off with his black leather jacket, the whole outfit looks like he should be riding a bike instead of driving a Porsche.

  Then he sweet-talked my kids, mostly Gabe, with the hockey bullshit. And then, the crème de la crème was him grinding his fucking cock into me while I was bending over. I swear I almost raised myself up on my tippy toes to get him to slide in.

  Since Sunday, I’ve masturbated every single night with him starring in all my dreams. He wants me to quit. Well, fuck that! I’m going to make him regret he made this stupid rule, even if I give myself blue balls, or a blue vagina, or whatever.

  I grab my yoga pants, because nothing molds to a woman’s body quite like yoga pants. I pair them with my blue off-the-shoulder sweater that stops just above my waist and gives a little peek of my stomach, but not too much. I wear a blue lace bra underneath it, which is the same color as the sweater. It’s a mom outfit, but a sexy mom outfit, or at least I hope it is.

  I text Kaleigh right before I go downstairs.

  Hope you’re feeling better and that Mom isn’t making you want to commit suicide.

  She responds right away.

  It’s Noah, she’s with me. I’ll take good care of her.

  I look down at my phone, confused.

  I thought she was staying with my parents?

  She was until she walked in on them playing Tarzan and Jane. Your mom looks hot in a loincloth, BTW.

  Ewwww! You’re a sick man. Off to the arena with Austin. Tell her to text me later.

  He finally got over that ‘don’t shit where you eat’ bullshit? No. I answer him right away and then throw out, Know anyone hiring?

  You can come work for me. I definitely won’t want to have sex with you.

  Funny guy. Okay, well, if you have a real suggestion, let me know.

  I’m serious. I need a PA to keep my shit in order, and I heard you’re the best. Think about it. Let me know. That way, Austin’s balls won’t get swollen again. BTW I will never ask you to get me coffee or food.

  “Mom! Come on, let’s go!” Gabe yells from the bottom of the stairs. I take in my appearance. Yup, sexy yet still conservative.

  “Coming,” I shout as I start walking down the stairs. I see Austin taking me in from my feet to my shoulders, his eyes lingering on the lace bra strap. “Okay, are we all ready to go?” I smile big at him, while he tries to adjust himself discreetly. Score one for me.

  We all pile into the minivan, and I throw the keys to Austin, since I have no idea where I’m going.

  We pull into an otherwise empty parking lot. “Maybe it’s closed,” I contemplate, looking around.

  “No, I have the key. I’ve practiced here since I was three, so the owner just gave me a key when I turned sixteen. I called Craig to let him know I was going to be here so he knew. He only uses it on Saturdays and Sundays at this point.”

  We walk in, and Austin turns on the light. The cement walls are lined with pictures of kids. I walk along the wall, while Austin walks behind the counter, getting a key out of the drawer.

  Walking to another door, he opens it up. “Okay, let’s see what we got. Rachel, what size do you wear?” he asks her.

  “Twenty-eight,” she replies, having no idea and just throwing any number out. He comes out of the room and looks down at her with a grin and his hands on his hips.

  “She’s a three, Gabe is a five, and I’m a six and a half,” I tell him.

  He comes back with three pairs of skates. Handing Gabe his first, then me mine, and then Rachel hers. “There are no girl skates, sorry, kiddo,” he apologizes to Rachel as she sits down and he starts to tie her skates. I’m surprised when I see that Gabe has already tied his skates. “I’m ready,” he informs us.

  Austin looks at him. “Go into that room. There are some helmets and gloves.” He motions over his shoulder to the room he just came out of.

  Gabe goes in and comes back out with helmets for him and Rachel. “Can I get on the ice?” Gabe asks, and Austin nods his head while he finishes tying Rachel’s skates and then calls me over.

  “I think I can tie my own skates, Austin.” I sit in front of him, while he is on his knees, readying the skate for my foot as I lean forward a bit, shifting my shoulder so my shirt slips a little, giving him a glimpse of the sheer lace bra under my shirt. I know right away that he’s seen it when he groans loudly. I smile innocently at him. “Oops! Sorry about that.” I hold my shirt up.

  When my skates are tied, he takes his out of his bag and puts them on. It takes him a couple of minutes until he’s done.

  We make our way to the ice. Rachel, who ran to join Gabe as soon as she was ready, isn’t skating. She is attempting to make snow angels on the ice.

  Gabe, on the other hand, is skating like he was born to do it.

  “I thought you said he hasn’t skated,” Austin says.

  “He hasn’t, really, just maybe once or twice.” I watch him zig-zag from one end of the rink to the other.

  “Kid’s a natural,” he comments, getting onto the ice, holding out his hand for me. “Let’s play,” he invites.

  I grab his hand, put one foot on the ice, and slip right away. I grab onto Austin with my other hand so I don’t fall. He doesn’t even budge, while I flail around a bit.

  “So, you hold on
to the wall with one hand and my hand with the other, okay?” he instructs, skating to the side of the rink.

  I’m holding onto the wall for dear life while I’ve got my other hand around Austin’s in a death grip “This isn’t fun,” I deadpan, concentrating on not falling on the slippery ice. “Nothing about this is fun.”

  I look over at Gabe, watching him shoot a puck into the empty net. “Where did he get the stick?” I ask, attempting to skate.

  “From the back room. Focus on your feet. Glide from left to right.” I just glare at him. “Go away,” I tell him, letting his hand go and clinging to the wall with both hands. I watch him skate away backward, smiling at me before he turns around and skates to Gabe. The two of them are shooting pucks while Austin gives him tips.

  The rest of the day is spent at the rink. Rachel gave up on skating but figured out how the intercom worked, so she gave us a play-by-play of nothing. By the time we walk out of there, Gabe looks at me and asks if he can join hockey next season instead of soccer. I look over his head at Austin and see him smirk.

  “Um, we’ll see, Gabe. I need to speak to your father first. Okay?” I say as I get in the car, watching Austin open the door for Rachel and picking her up so she can get in her booster seat.

  He gets in on the driver’s side, and I’m momentarily shocked by how it looks, as if we’ve been doing this forever.

  “What do you guys think about grabbing burgers for dinner?” He adjusts the mirror so he can look to the backseat at the kids.

  We all agree to get burgers at Five Guys before we head home. By the time we finally do get home, it’s past seven and Rachel is dragging her feet.

  “Okay, Rachel, bath and bed,” I urge her when we get inside. Gabe asks if he can call his father, and I nod yes. He runs upstairs with my phone in his hand, leaving me and Austin alone.

  “I think I’m going to head home,” he says to me.

  I look at him standing at the front door, “Thank you for today. You didn’t have to do that.” I walk toward him. When I’m finally in front of him, I lean up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You looked pretty hot out there.” I whisper, pressing my chest to his, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Really hot, so hot.” I kiss his jaw.

  “Are you quitting?” His voice is almost cracking.

  “Nope.” I smile. “I love my job, I’m good at my job.” I press deeper into him, his cock resting on my stomach.

  “Okay. I should go.” He’s seemingly unsure of what to do. I let him go, watching as he turns the handle of the door. “I really, really wish you would quit,” he says before stepping outside.

  “I really, really wish you would get over it.” I hold the door in my hand, leaning against the jamb. “So I could show you that I’m not wearing panties,” I tease him, watching his mouth drop, right before I close the door on him and collapse against it.

  Gabe comes back downstairs with my phone. “I had so much fun today. Thanks, Mom.” He hugs me and then runs back upstairs.

  I look at my phone and see that Austin has already texted me.

  Were you serious?

  I don’t joke about panties. Ever.

  What if I fire you?

  You wouldn’t dare.

  After that, he doesn’t text me back. I bring up my recent texts and text Kaleigh.

  Tell Noah to call me after nine to discuss his proposition.

  I really hope your proposition isn’t about sex.

  Are you still high?

  No. Maybe. Yes. I’m so sick. I hope you catch it.

  Gee, thanks.

  He said the job is yours and to tell him when you want to start.

  How does next Monday sound?

  It sounds like I need to have sex with him. He’s so hot taking care of me. I should give him a blowjob.

  With a throat infection? He might catch it!!!

  In his dick?

  No, dumbass, in his throat. Gotta go.

  I start to make the plans in my head. Taking a huge leap of faith by switching jobs, just so I can have sex. Really, really good sex, awesome sex, the-best-sex-I’ve-ever-had sex. Yep, decision made. Now, I just have to get through the week and that stupid club opening, and we are in the home stretch.

  The week went by faster than I thought. I’ve already spoken with Barbara about leaving. She is sad to see me go but excited that Austin will finally be in a better mood.

  It seems blue balls don’t suit him.

  I also didn’t help matters by coming in all week wearing tight clothing. One day at lunch, I left my panties in his drawer. I watched him open the drawer and take them out while looking at me. I smiled at him and waved. He got up and slammed the door and then closed his blinds. I can only imagine what he did, but I don’t think I’ll ever get the panties back.

  Then there was the day my shirt accidentally unbuttoned when I went to bring him files. It gapped opened so much, he could clearly see the sheer, cream-colored bra I was wearing, along with my nipples that were standing up to greet him. Oops, my bad. He actually snapped a pencil in half that time.

  But nothing—nothing—beats my last day. I’m wearing a tight black skirt that clings to my body from my waist to right below my ass, where it then flares out with a ruffle. I wear lace-topped, thigh-high stockings.

  Before I leave for the day, I walk into his office to ask him a few questions about the party we are attending tomorrow.

  “So, what time should I get there?’ I ask him, propping myself on the arm of the chair.

  “I told everyone to get there at six. We have to be out front to do the red-carpet thing by eight, so I want to make sure everyone is on time.” He tilts back in his chair.

  “Perfect. I guess I’ll see you there, then.” I turn to leave and then stop. “Oh no, I think I have a tear in my stocking!” I say, looking over my shoulder at him watching me. “Right on the knee.” I bend over, knowing full well that my skirt will rise just enough for him to see the border of lace stretched across the center of my thigh. He lets out a tortured groan and then a string of curses as I walk out the door. “See you tomorrow, Austin.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  AUSTIN

  I’m about to consult Google to find out if a man can die from blue balls when Lauren struts into my office asking questions about tomorrow. I’m almost tempted to close the door and fuck her on my desk.

  All week, she has been torturing me. One day, she left her panties in my drawer. I slammed my door, drew the shades, and sat at my desk picturing her sitting on it, legs spread, in front of me, as I jerked off with them. I came all over them. Hard, too.

  The next day, her shirt popped open, accidentally, giving me a perfect view of her tits in that sexy-as-fuck bra, her nipples hard and ready for me to bite and suck. That just reminded me of how incredibly responsive she is when I play with them. Fuck me .

  Then the straw that broke the camel’s back was right after she finished asking me the questions about the party. As she was walking out of my office, she bent over, and that fucking hot-as-hell skirt she had on rode up. She was wearing a fucking pair of thigh-highs and the tiniest pair of sheer panties. So tiny and sheer, I could see her pussy lips. Motherfucker .

  I’m about to throw something across the room when John comes in, heading over to sit on the couch. “Hey there, man. I heard that someone got their period this week.” He jokes with me just as Noah walks in.

  “Jesus, did this week go slow or what? I didn’t think it would ever end.” He slaps John on the back and sits next to him on the couch. He looks over at me, then tilts his head and asks, “Are you sick?”

  “He isn’t sick. Lauren is holding her vagina hostage till he lets go of this whole ‘I don’t shit where I eat’ bullshit,” John explains.

  “It’s not bullshit,” I snap at them both. “What if we have a good run and then she gets mad at me, we break up, and she sues me for sexual harassment?” I look at them both.

  “What i
f you spend the rest of your life banging the best pussy of your life?” Noah fires back. “Listen, if you want, she can come work for me.”

  I sit up in my chair right away. “Not a fucking chance in hell. You’ve fucked every PA you’ve ever had.”

  “That was before. I’m a changed man. I went to the strip club yesterday to meet a client, and my dick didn’t even twitch. In fact, he was bored. I think he might have even yawned.” Noah looks down at his crotch.

  John studies him. “No shit, you got the bug?”

  Noah just shakes his head. “I did. By the way, I’m bringing her tomorrow.” He leans back “She’s so fucking hot. She can put her legs behind her head, man.”

  “I don’t want to know that shit!” I yell. “That’s Lauren’s sister.”

  “She’s not your sister.” Noah turns to look back at John. “And she can hold them there.” He raises his hand for a high five. Both of them have shit-eating grins stretched across their faces.

  “Is Lauren bringing a date tomorrow?” John asks me.

  “No,” I snap, then think to myself that she fucking better not be bringing a date. But if she is, I have to know.

  I pick up my phone and text her.

  Are you coming alone tomorrow?

  I’m hoping I’ll be coming with you, but I’m not sure.

  I throw my phone down. “Jesus, she’s making my life impossible.”

  “Poor baby. Just fucking get over it. Have sex with her, work with her, and then I’ll have a lot fewer complaints in my email.” John gets up. “Now, if you bozos will excuse me, I’m going home to have sex with my wife. On the couch, because we can.”

  “You liar,” Noah says. “Married people only fuck in a bed. Google it.” He winks at John as he walks out.

  “Let’s go to the gym. You can work out your frustration there.” Noah gets up. I do the same and follow him out. I spend the next three hours beating the shit out of a punching bag and working my body to near exhaustion.