by Mia Madison
Bossy Valentine
A Steamy Workplace CEO Older Man Romance
by
Mia Madison
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author.
Copyright © 2017 Mia Madison. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.
Version 2017.1.31
Mailing list sign up is here
https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/x2t4y4
Bossy Valentine
Chapter One
Mabel
First day back and I'm rushing through the rain to get to the office before it pours down and soaks me through. It's already been one of those days this morning. Which I guess is gonna happen when you go on vacation with your guy and discover him doing the masseuse behind the cabana.
By 'one of those', I mean the days you know you should have pulled up the covers and stayed under there with a couple of hot romance novels. Because the only romance I'm ever getting myself into from here on, is between the covers of a book. I left my umbrella at the home and clearly the week from hell is going to continue. Even my suntan has run away to hide.
Ugh. I won't even think about anything that reminds me of the vacation that makes a week in jail seem like fun. Seven days away from the rain and cold, lying on a beach in Mexico sounded like just what I needed when Sam asked me along. We'd only been dating a few months so I was surprised he wanted to take it to the next level, as I didn’t think we were that much of a thing.
And I guess we weren’t because he made me pay my own ticket and then I discovered him getting a massage. Except the wrong person of the pair was lying sprawled across the couch, with my boyfriend’s cock all the way inside her.
I'm glad to be getting back to work. Funny I know, who says that? But I love my job and my boss.
Literally love him.
He's the sexiest guy in the city and he knows it. Dates a lot of hot women – the typical skinny supermodel type. Not the ordinary girl that sits home in cozy PJs, with hot chocolate and a good book for company. So I can't have Darcy Eglinton and Sam didn’t even rate my 'benefits' as being worth keeping.
I'm feeling pretty sorry for myself and in a moment of thoughtlessness, as my brain races to hold the teariness from rising any further into my eyes, I step off the sidewalk into the blaring sound of the driver leaning on a horn.
My body goes flying through the air as, thank heavens, I'm somehow yanked back from the path of the vehicle.
Every cell is pounding on high alert as fast as my heartbeat. My breath comes in riotous bursts but I feel a gush of pure safety at having skirted danger. Thanks solely to the two massive hands clamped on my hips. I'm leaning hard as I catch my breath against the rock solid broad torso of a very strong gentleman.
In an instant, I realize my butt cheeks are lying against the rather powerful swell at his groin and I spin around with thanks and apologies already spouting from my lips. Still reeling from facing near death, I turn to face the most gorgeous man I've ever seen.
“Oh, wow. I mean hello, Sir. Hello, Mr Eglinton.”
My boss has his hands on me.
I sound like such a dummy. But the fact is, I've never, not once in two years of working at Eglinton Enterprise, seen my boss outside of the office. Rarely even outside of his actual office, where he sits behind the monolithic black desk, trading and dealing from light to dusk.
He leaves in his private elevator, takes it down to the private lot where his chauffeur waits with the car to spirit him off to whatever exquisite evening affair he's attending or direct to his penthouse apartment. Seeing him out on the street, with the rest of us down-to-earth mortals is almost more of a shock than going under the wheels of an SUV.
“Mabel, are you okay,”
I nod and squeeze my lips together.
“You're crying.”
After a few beats where I consider denying it, I nod less vigorously.
“Why? Are you hurt?”
I can't really say. I thought it was about being unceremoniously tossed while on vacation. But that whole week it was Darcy's that face kept swimming up in my visions. Even when I was lying on the beach with Sam, I was fantasizing about my boss there beside me.
I told myself it wasn’t wrong. It was only the same as picturing myself on a luxurious trip with Brad Pitt or one of the Ryans – strange how my fantasies always extend to powerful and confident more mature men.
“Not because of that boyfriend?” Darcy prompts with an almost snarl.
Christ, his hand is still resting weightily on my hip. The heat from him burns through my clothes, his grip on me cosseting, safe and is it my imagination- possessive? I shake my head now. Why the hell am I dumbstruck? My lips are quivering and refuse to form a single word.
Then I notice my thighs are shaking and the clench deeper into my core tells me it's not only thanks to the near miss. My boss has never touched me. Never laid his hands on my body. I've only ever felt his skin twice. Once when we brushed fingertips passing a sheaf of documents at a meeting. The second time when he found me departing the Christmas party and insisted on helping me into my coat. His fingertips grazed across the nape of my neck and sent spasms of electric light through me.
Now with his heavy palm gripping me, all I can think of is how it might feel if I was naked under his powerful grasp and he was holding both hips and thrusting his cock inside me.
“Perhaps I should take you to a hospital. You're flushed hot.”
“No, I'm fine,” I gasp.
I'm flushed because I was just picturing your cock buried balls deep inside me and my blood surged to every corner.
“Then I'll take you up to the office.” Darcy insists, taking my hand to fold my arm through his, adding; “Lean on me.”
Oh God, if only I could. If only you were the man I could use as my hunk for support and security for the rest of my life.
But I can't. And it's kind of cliché to fall in love with my boss.
“You're shivering.”
His hand covers mine, sitting on the solid thick forearm.
“I'm fine honestly, thank you.”
“It's nothing, Mabel. I just need to know you're okay.”
He leads me through the marble lobby and into the elevator. Not the bank of public elevators crowded with people rushing to offices, but set behind those. His private elevator. He palms the small of my back and presses me gently inside. His body is so close to mine I think I might buckle at the knees.
I wonder how many women he's brought inside his personal ride to the top floor. I've never seen any of his dates in person but I've fielded plenty of phone calls and had to deliver the usual lie; 'I'm sorry, he's out of the office', to quite a few screamers.
The plain fact is Darcy Eglinton drives women to distraction. And I'm not immune.
He's charming and handsome with a body a Greek God would envy but also slippery enough to make eels jealous in his inability to stick with one woman. I haven't been above looking up the women he's seeing. Not in a stalkerish way, just to get to know my boss and unde
rstand his preferences. I'm curious to find out what kind of woman turns him on. Naturally, none of them is anything like me.
I don’t know where to look. We're standing close enough that only an inch of vacancy exists between our bodies. One small jolt of the car and we'd be in each others arms.
Uh-huh. In your wildest fantasies, Mabel.
Chapter TWO
Darcy
“I feel all spun around,” Mabel says, her small fingers going to her forehead as though to hold the dizziness inside.
I push back the thoughts of literally spinning her around to face the wall and dragging her skirt up her thighs over her round ass. The question of whether she's wearing stockings and how soft her flesh is at the naked tops is put on hold while concern for her fills my mind.
“Lean on me.”
I've always felt kind of possessive about Mabel. My secretary, with all that job description implies.
She takes care of me and I love how solicitous she is. She sets down my coffee and adjusts the cup to make it perfect for my reach. But she's all business. There are none of the flirtatious remarks and surreptitious brushes of fingers to skin that I enjoyed with all my previous girls.
Since Mabel arrived she manages my life perfectly and barely looks at me. If we happen to meet eyes, she casts her huge round hazel ones away every time. I'm left dangling, with my blood surging to own her in a more visceral way.
Mabel.
Last month I had a week of meetings in Paris and couldn’t stop thinking of Mabel, Ma Belle as the French would say, back in the office. But she's having none of it. She's sending out smoke signals that I'm to behave in a completely professional manner. Unsurprising with my wild-man reputation around town and the office. But that's the last way I want to be around Ma Belle Mabel.
“Thank you.”
She takes my arm and the side of her breast grazes my bicep and almost blows my fucking brains up.
“Better?”
I look down at her small hand gripping my forearm's girth and can't help but picture those fingers wrapping my cock. The fucking thing is prodding at my pants zipper just imagining how she'd grasp the length. Any ideas I may have initiated when I first set eyes on Mabel were squelched by the arrival of the latest boyfriend. If he took her on vacation that obviously means they're serious.
I never missed a secretary so much in my life as much as when Mabel was gone for all of last week. I never pined for any woman like that, let alone my secretary. The temp was perfectly competent. Actually she was more coquettish than efficient. And she wasn’t Mabel. I needed that sweet face, her soft voice and that sexy body walking confidently into my office to greet me each morning.
As the elevator lifts smoothly, I look down to my secretary and I'm sure her lower lip is quivering. I get the strangest desire to reach out my hand and touch it. To feel her flesh shiver beneath my fingertips. That thought incites another, of sucking that pink swollen succulence between my own lips and biting down just hard enough. The desire to taste her surges up from my gut and hurls more vivid pictures into my mind. Of tearing her clothes off and fucking her soft pink flesh mercilessly up against the wall of this car until she begs me to stop and for more, all at once.
“Yes, much better, thank you,” she says nervously, then looks away.
At the floor button panel, the indicator above the doors. Anywhere but into my eyes. Perhaps she can read the wolfish desire to devour her in my pupils. I'd better rein that shit back in because if she hands in her resignation I don’t know what I'd do. Tie her to my desk probably. I'd never accept it of course, but the idea of her leaving me is out of the question. She's mine. It may be professional all the way, but sooner or later I'm going to find the way to own her totally.
“Take my arm,” I tell her as the lift glides to a stop at the penthouse floor.
“Oh, I'm okay,” she murmurs, like touching me any more might be contagious.
Fuck that. I stand there with my hooked arm outstretched like some douche in a theater play.
She looks down, then her eyes fly up to my face and her cheeks color scarlet. So fucking pretty. And I wonder what the round cheeks of her ass would look like that same hue, once I got done with them.
I don't move. Just stand there unbudging so she has no choice but to hook her fingers around me, before the doors shut on us and she's trapped in my elevator alone with me. The vivid images of what would happen then make my cock bolt up again.
She holds onto me and I can tell she's doing her best not to limp. But her face squints with every step and she leans against me to take the pressure off.
“Miss Trellis, you should take the rest of the day,” I tell her.
“Oh no, I couldn't leave you,” she blurts out, making me smile inside. “I mean, I couldn't leave you to manage the Chinese contract without me.”
“If you're sure,” I say.
I could easily insist but truth is now she's back at last, I don't want her to go either. What I want is to continue walking through the open plan cubicles to my corner office and keep going. Kick the door shut behind us then strip her naked.
The picture of her glowing round cheeks tipped up for my flattened palm is driving me fucking nuts. Her hair is dusky blond and I wonder now whether it's natural. Whether her pussy hair is the same color. Or maybe she's shaved bare so her pink slit is fully visible as it throbs gently for me.
Either way I want to pull those lips apart and bury my face in her.
“I'm so sorry for being such a hassle,” she whispers. “It was so stupid not to be paying attention.”
“I'm just glad I was there to drag you out of harm's way,” I say.
Screw this small talk. My dick is raging in my jocks and ravaging at the fabric to bust loose and into her sweet pussy.
“Yes. Thank you again. So much,” she gushes. “Well, here we are.”
“Yes. Here we are.”
We've been standing beside her desk, arms locked and I'm still holding her petite hand stapled to my forearm beneath my own heavy one. It would take quite a wrench for her to snatch it out from me. If only I could hold her there all day.
“Let me take your coat,” I order, rather than invite her.
She's about to refuse but my presence so close to her brooks no refusal. She'll get used to that.
She reaches up to undo the buttons and as they come apart and her round breasts are set loose from their bondage, I visualize them tumbling naked before me. Then bouncing and swaying as she rides my cock.
“It's good to have you back, Miss Trellis,” I grunt, strictly business, as I will the thoughts from my mind. “I've missed you.”
“You have? That is, I've missed you too, Sir,” she replies but her cheeks pinken again when she realizes what she's saying.
And all the filthy images are right back in my head.
Never before have I undressed a woman and eyefucked her in the middle of the office. Mabel has unleashed a whole new set of desires that have been hibernating for far too long.
I don't know how it happened and I guess I've held back for the sake of this boyfriend and their relationship. But now that I have her back, she's not getting away again ever. Not as my secretary and not as much more.
She doesn’t know it yet but I have huge plans for her. First I need to claim her and slide my dick into her tender slickness. I want to see her cheeks turn that rosy shade, while I saw into her tight pussy and she breathes my name.
Chapter THREE
Mabel
“I must still be in beach mode,” I tell my boss as an excuse for being a dithering idiot. Walking out into traffic so he has to rescue me.
God, I hope he doesn't fire me for being such a ditz. “I am right back to work now, I promise,” I add.
I can feel his eyes on me, no doubt wondering whether I've still got the capacity to manage his affairs. Whether I'll let him down at some vital moment when he needs me.
“Of course. I forgot to ask, how was your vacation?” he ask
s, politely but his jaw is clenched and I detect the irritation.
He's probably annoyed that I left him alone with a temp all week. Even when mad, he's an absolute god I can hardly bear to look at in case he sears my eyeballs.
“It was fine,” I lie.
“That boyfriend treating you right?”
His teeth are almost gritting together. I know he didn't take to Sam when he met him at the office Christmas party.
“Um, yes thank you, Sir.”
Another lie but I am hardly getting into TMI with my boss. He didn't ask to hear my sorry sob story, he was just being polite. Passing the time until he can get away from me and back to business.
I sit down at my desk and notice how dripping wet I am between my thighs. My panties are soaked through just from being that close to Darcy Eglinton. Ohmigod, it's totally nuts to be so suddenly crazed for my boss. I've always found him attractive and maybe indulged in a daydream or two, only on off days of course, about him falling in love with me. But Darcy isn't the falling in love kind of guy. I know that from the comments I've seen around social media and heard in the lunch room. I pull open my top drawer, reach in and yank my hand right back out.
“Euw.”
“What's up, Mabel?” Andy, the copy tech, asks as he strolls by
“Nothing,” I snap.
“You look like you saw a monster in your desk drawer,” he calls across his shoulder as he continues on to joke with the next person.
I did see a demon. I open the drawer a crack and they're still there. As though to underline everything I was just thinking about my boss.
A pair of red satin underwear. If you can call them that when they're mostly a few strings knotted together. Trashy.
Obviously Mr Eglinton kept himself amused while I was away. And why not? He's renowned for being a player. His last girl, Joss, disappeared on a Wednesday. In tears, according to the security team, and never returned.
Anyway Darcy would never look at me, the one who brings the coffee. So this is insane. But all I can think of is what he might do to me. If he ever got me alone in that elevator when the doors weren't about to open on the morning-crowded office. Members of staff dashing back and forth across reception with important business to take care of.
