Bossed By The Billionaire [Book Two]

by Kaylee Quinn

  “Yes.” Planting my feet on the mattress, I raised my hips up, eager to take him. At the same time he thrust down, and I moaned with pleasure as the sound of our bodies connecting echoed through the room.

  “You’ve never done this before,” I whispered as he bent down and kissed my neck.

  “Done what?”

  I smiled and slid my nails down the curve of his back. “Take off all of your clothes.” While I had stripped naked before him several times, he had never done the same. Each time we had been intimate, he had left on at least part of his clothing.

  “Do you mind?” he asked.

  “I prefer it.”

  He lifted his head. “Good.” He held my gaze as he pulled back, then thrust once more.

  It was hard to describe what it felt like to look into Cameron’s eyes as he fucked me. His features held so much emotion and tenderness. It made me feel special. As our bodies started to move together, I knew that there was nowhere else in the world I would rather be than in his arms.

  When I felt myself hovering on the brink of another orgasm, I held myself back. Not because I didn’t want to orgasm, but because I never wanted this moment to end.

  There was something magical happening between us. Every time our bodies came together, a deep, emotional bond was formed. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in his thrusts. As we moved to the beat of a song only we could hear, our voices blended together. Soon, I truly didn’t know when one of us ended and the other began.

  “I’m close,” I said as I clawed at his back. “Don’t stop, Cam. Please.”

  “I’m never going to stop.” He pushed himself up onto his hands and thrust at a deeper angle. “I’m never going to stop because you’re mine, Sadie. Do you hear me?” He straightened and grabbed my ankles, spreading me wider. “You belong to me.”

  I did belong to him. Deep down, I knew that part of me always would.

  When we finally went over the edge together, it was better than any time he had made me come before.

  When reality settled around us once more, he collapsed on the opposite side of the bed and pulled the covers up over our bodies.

  “Come here.” He tugged me to his chest, spooning my small, fragile body with his much larger one.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of anything, Sadie,” he whispered into my hair. “Not your coworkers, not your job, and certainly not me.”

  I snuggled against him, letting the warmth of his body wash over me. “Are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping here tonight?” I asked.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m okay with it.” He kissed my head and relaxed back on his pillow. “You’re right where you belong.”

  He was right. As I laid in his arms, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of rightness, as if we had been working our entire lives toward this moment, and from now on, things would only get better.

  Just a few hours ago, I’d wanted to quit Cameron and everything connected to him. But in the short time we’d spent together this evening, he’d shown me an entirely new side of himself, and suddenly I was afraid of losing him. Losing this.

  I just hoped I hadn’t been played, because I was starting to fall for him.

  Chapter 8

  Several hours later, I awoke with a strange feeling in my stomach. Something wasn’t right, and the more I laid there on the bed the more uneasy I felt.

  I turned, trying to find a comfortable position. It was no use. The more I moved, the sicker I felt. Throwing off the sheets, I ran to the bathroom a short distance away and fell to my knees.

  “Oh God.” I clung to the porcelain bowl as all of the wonderful and expensive food I had eaten that evening tumbled out of me. I wretched and wretched.

  “Sadie?” Cam called from the other room. “Are you okay?”

  I closed my eyes and waited for the queasiness to subside. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I grabbed a washcloth from the counter and wiped my mouth.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  I pulled the washcloth away from my face and stared at it in shock. Bright red spots stained the fine cotton. A quick glance into the bowl revealed more of the same. I didn’t throw up a lot of blood, but there was enough to cause concern. Standing, I did a mental inventory. There was no sharp pain or unusual aches. I was a little dizzy, but not in danger of passing out. My throat felt a little sore. Perhaps something just irritated it as it came up and out of me.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Cam asked again as he came into the room. He stopped in the doorway, horrified. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry about the mess.” I forced myself to straighten away from the counter. “I think something didn’t agree with me.”

  He wrinkled his nose and nodded to the face cloth. “Is that blood?”

  “Yes, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.” His face grew pale. He took me by the arm and ushered me to the bedroom. “Come on.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to the hospital.”

  “Wait.” I pulled my hand from his. “We can’t go to the hospital.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not sick.” With the contents of my stomach gone, I was already feeling a little better.

  His features became stern and menacing. “You just threw up blood.”

  “I was coughing as well. It was probably just an irritation in my throat.”

  “We need to be sure.” He picked up my clothes and tossed them to me. “Here, put these on.”

  He dressed lightning-fast. I was still pulling on my panties as he pulled out his cell.

  “Hello? I’m looking for Dr. Cranston. Dr. David Cranston.”

  “What are you doing?’ I asked.

  “I don’t care what time it is I need to speak to the doctor right now.”

  “Cameron.” I tugged on his sleeve, but he ignored me.

  “Tell him to get dressed,” he said to the other person on the line. “I’m sending a jet to him right now and I want him to be ready.”

  “Who is Dr Cranston?” I asked when he finished the conversation.

  “A specialist.”

  “You’re flying him in?” I asked as he lead me down to the car.

  “He’s the best. I trust him completely.”

  “I hardly think this is necessary.”

  “It’s completely necessary,” he said as he ushered me into his car. “You’re sick.”

  It was useless arguing with him. Once Cameron Wolff got an idea in his head, there was no changing his mind. He sped to the hospital like a crazed man, then refused to let anyone see me until this Dr. Cameron arrived. While we waited he paced the floor like some crazed animal wanting to escape from his cage.

  “You don’t have to do this for me,” I had said while we were waiting. “I’m fine. Really.” The man had the entire hospital in an uproar. It was rather embarrassing, yet touching at the same time.

  “You’re sick,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  The doctor arrived in a rush, and after cursory greetings, got right to work. It was impressive how much Dr. Cranston knew, and his bedside manner was beyond reproach. His calm and quiet strength did a lot to settle my jumbled nerves. Unfortunately, it did nothing to settle Cameron’s. The more tests the doctor ran, the more agitated Cameron became. As we waited for the results, he paced the floor, his dress shoes making this annoying clicking sound on the linoleum.

  “Could you stop that?” I asked. When he flashed me an irritated frown, I patted the chair next to me. “Here, sit down.”

  He did as I asked, but then stood up once more when the doctor walked into the room.

  “What’s the diagnosis?” Cameron asked. “Will she live?”

  “Of course, I’ll live. Don’t be ridiculous.” I frowned at the doctor. “Tell him I’m fine.”

  The doctor adjusted his glasses and pulled up a chair. “You mentioned that you went out to dinner tonight.”

  “That’s
right,” Cameron said before I could speak.

  The doctor flipped through some papers on his clipboard. “Well, that would explain it, then. It appears that you have gotten a touch of food poisoning.”

  “You see?” I said, turning to Cam. “It’s nothing, just like I said.”

  Cameron ignored my outburst. “What about the blood?”

  The doctor cleared his throat and looked up from his paperwork. “We couldn’t find any internal bleeding.” He set aside his clip board. “Sometimes the act of vomiting can irritate something in the patient’s stomach lining.” He turned to me. “You said that the amount of blood was minor.”

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  “Then I wouldn’t worry about it. I’d keep an eye on it, of course, but I suspect that it is just some minor irritation that will disappear once the food poisoning passes.”

  “Thank you doctor,” Cam said as he held out his hand toward me. “Come on let’s get out of here.”

  I placed my fingers into Cam’s and stood.

  “Not so fast,” Dr. Cranston said. “There’s more.”

  “More?” Cameron asked.

  “Yes.” Dr. Cranston glanced at Cam, then dragged his focus to me. “You don’t have internal bleeding, but we did notice something a little concerning on the scan.”

  “What?” I asked as Cam and I retook our seats.

  The doctor hesitated before answering “We found what seems to be a spot on your lung.”

  Cameron slipped his hand from mine as I stared at the doctor in shock.

  “A spot? Like a tumor?” I asked.

  “We need to run more tests, so let’s not jump to any conclusions. It could be any number of things.”

  “More tests.” Stunned, I looked down at my hands in my lap. This couldn’t be happening…

  “Sometimes these spots turn out to be nothing. When a person is suffering from a cold virus or pneumonia, fluid can frequently be observed in the lungs in masses such as the one in your scans.”

  “But she doesn’t have a cold,” Cameron said.

  “She doesn’t have symptoms of a cold,” the doctor corrected. “That doesn’t mean that some sort of viral infection hasn’t started to develop there.”

  “So, it could be nothing,” Cam said.

  “Yes. It could be just some fluid, or perhaps some scarring from a previous injury or infection.”

  “Or it could be a tumor,” Cam muttered.

  “Well, that is a possibility, but even if it is a lesion of some sort, it could be totally benign.” The doctor cleared his throat. “My guess is that this is nothing to worry about, but we would like to run a few more tests just to make sure.”

  “Of course.”

  “Perfect.” The doctor stood. “I’ll just set those up and you’ll be free to go.”

  I glanced over at Cam. It was the first time I really looked at him since the doctor had made the announcement about the spot on my lung. I was surprised by how pale he looked, and how preoccupied he seemed. The news seemed to have a profound effect on him, much more so than it had even affected me.

  “I understand,” I said, turning back to the doctor. “Thank you for coming.”

  “You’re very welcome.” The doctor shook my hand and turned to Cameron. “I suspect that your jet will be ready to take me home?”

  Cam waved his hand at the doctor. “Yes, it will be ready. Thank you.”

  The doctor nodded and left.

  “Well, I guess all we can do now is wait for them to come and poke me with more needles,” I said in an effort to lighten the mood.

  “Yes, needles.” Cameron pulled out his cell and leaned against the wall, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

  Over the next hour, I tried multiple times to start a conversation, but he wasn’t interested. It was as if Cameron Wolff had shut himself off from the world, and there was nothing I could do to bring him back.

  Chapter 9

  Things were strangely quiet as we left the hospital. There was this tension in the air that I couldn’t explain. I felt I needed to say something to alleviate it, and yet words escaped me. The doctor had said himself that the spot on the scan could be nothing. They needed to run more tests. Yet Cameron was acting as if I had just gotten a death sentence. While I was touched that he cared, I was also worried.

  He didn’t look well. In fact, he looked downright shaken.

  “I think I need a glass of wine,” I said when I could no longer stand the silence. “You wouldn’t happen to have any wine back at your apartment, would you?”

  “Yes, but we aren’t going there.”

  I furrowed my brow. “We’re not?”

  “No.”

  “Where are we going, then?”

  The stoplight in front of us changed to green, and he took a turn down a familiar street.

  “You’re taking me home?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But why?”

  He didn’t answer.

  I turned to face him. “Cameron, answer me. Why are you taking me home?” I thought we had hit it off. It certainly seemed as if we did. People don’t just have sex like we did and not feel something. I thought he cared. I thought he wanted a relationship with me. He had been so gently and passionate when we had sex, and at the hospital, he made me feel protected and loved.

  Now it seemed as if all of those feelings I thought he had toward me were lies.

  He pulled up to the curb outside of my apartment. “Here you go.”

  “You’re not coming inside?” I asked.

  “No.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, then turned to face me. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” I shook my head. “You’re acting strange, and it’s freaking me out. Come inside and we can talk about—”

  “No.” He averted his gaze. “You don’t understand. I can’t go upstirs with you.” He took in a deep breath, then let it out. “You aren’t well. You need your rest.”

  I softened my expression as I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “You do, too.”

  “I wasn’t expecting this.” His voice was quiet, too quiet.

  “I don’t think anyone expects to find something in their lungs. But the doctor said that—”

  He turned to face me, and the pain in his eyes took my breath away. “I think that what has been happening between us has been too much for you.”

  “What?”

  “I think—I think that we need to revert back to a more traditional relationship. A more professional relationship.”

  I turned to the window as disgust rose up in my chest. “You don’t want to have sex with me anymore.”

  “Sadie…”

  “You just want to use me and toss me to the curb.” I waved my hand at the sidewalk. “Literally.”

  “It’s not like that at all.”

  “What’s it like, then?”

  He sighed and ran his fingers over the soft leather of the steering wheel. “I think I was wrong when I said I wanted something bold and uninhibited for my advertising campaign, that’s all.”

  “What?” I turned to face him, stunned.

  “I think my new clothing line would benefit the most from a simple and straightforward advertising campaign. I want…” He put his hands in his lap and glanced over at me. “I want you to bring the team back together and work on a more traditional campaign.”

  “What? I don’t understand.” I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “And it’s too late to do that. It’s two in the morning. We have a meeting at nine.”

  He shook his head. “I’m canceling the meeting. Just have one of the executives come over to pitch the ideas next week. You can set something up with my secretary…”

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  He blinked at me in surprise.

  “Why are you doing this? I’m not dying you know.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “The doctor just wants to run a few tests.”


  “Sadie, please. I can’t do this right now. I have work to do.”

  “At two in the morning?”

  “I run my own business, Sadie,” he explained. “It isn’t a nine-to-five job. There are things I need to do—”

  I held up my hand, stopping his words. “No, that’s fine, I get it. You don’t want to see me anymore.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t need to.” We had such a good time together. I had thought that we had bonded. I thought that he had cared. Now he was ruining everything we shared because he couldn’t handle me having a few tests.

  “I’m not the man you think I am, Sadie.”

  “Clearly.” I huffed and crossed my arms.

  “I can never be the person you need.”

  “The person I need? What type of person do you think I need?”

  He stared at me, as if searching for the right words. After a long moment of silence, I rolled my eyes and got out of the car.

  “Unbelievable. Of all the self-centered, narcissistic…” Once out on the sidewalk, I turned to face him. “Don’t ever presume to know what I want—or what I need. I’m the one who decides that. Got it?”

  “If you ever need anything, just contact my secretary. She has a list of doctors and health care providers—”

  “Fuck you.” Tears stung my eyes. I blinked them back. “Fuck you and your bold, uninhibited brand.”

  He put the car into gear. “Take care of yourself, Sadie.”

  “Shut up.” I slammed the car door in his face before the tears in my eyes rolled down my cheeks. I was done with him, done with his lies and his manipulative ways.

  As the car drove away, I could feel my heart being torn in two. I ran into my apartment and threw myself down on my sofa. As the tears streamed down my face, the full impact of what happened back at the hospital hit me.

  With Cameron, I had put on a brave face, had tried to make light of the situation. Now, in the darkness of my apartment, the weight of what might possibly happen in the next twenty-four hours crushed me like a bolder. With Cameron by my side, I felt as if I could face anything. I could convince myself that the mass on my lungs was nothing more than a little scar tissue, or something equally benign.