Twisted by the Boss (Tempted Series Book 4)

by Hazel Kelly

  “What do you mean thinks she needs space?”

  “Women never really want space.”

  “They don’t?”

  He shook his head. “No. What they want is for their wishes to be respected, so if they say they want space, you should give it to them.”

  “Then what?”

  “Eventually they realize that space isn’t actually what they want, but you’ll be in their good books for having listened to them. Plus, you’ll have conserved your energy for when she comes running back to you.”

  “That’s optimistic.”

  “Either way, it sounds to me like the ball’s in your court,” he said.

  But for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like it was.

  Chapter 3: Ella

  I was camped out in the hotel’s café in an effort to avoid Will and Emily, and so far it was working. I knew it could only be a temporary solution, but I needed space, and I needed to get my work done. Plus, I was on good terms with the staff after all those pumpkin lattes so they kept my coffee topped up for nothing. As if I wasn’t edgy enough.

  I nearly jumped when my phone rang. “Ella Riley.”

  “Are you avoiding me?” Will asked. His voice always sounded so husky in the morning.

  “Of course not.”

  “Good,” he said. “That would be extremely unprofessional.”

  “Suddenly you’re worried about my professionalism, are you? Weird.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m working in the hotel.”

  “Where?”

  I sighed. “Does it matter?”

  “If it didn’t, I wouldn’t ask.”

  “I’m doing research about that Aquatic Association so I can pitch them this afternoon.”

  “Sounds like something you could do at your desk.”

  I didn’t answer him. He was obviously just calling to pester me.

  “And you haven’t answered the question.”

  “I’m in the café, okay? I have an appointment with the chef in a few minutes to inquire about our gluten situation,” I lied.

  “Sounds like a sticky subject.”

  I put my pen down and leaned back in my undersized chair. “Why did you call me, Will?”

  “To see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m doing fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “Well I am,” I said, “and even if I wasn’t, it’s not your job to fix it, is it?” I hoped he would say I had him all wrong, that it was a big misunderstanding and he wanted to kiss me all over and make it better.

  But he didn’t say anything.

  “Isn’t that correct?”

  “Your tone suggests that you haven’t decided to embrace our previous arrangement.”

  “You’re very intuitive.”

  “I’ll give you some space then.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hung up and put my phone down on the table. How could he say such a thing? As if I might have come around and decided I was still happy for him to play boyfriend with me?

  I didn’t want a play boyfriend. Or a real boyfriend. I wanted Will in a way in which he wasn’t available so I needed to move on with my life. If I could just stay away from him for a little while, he’d find another girl who would spread her legs for him, and she would probably do it a lot faster than I did.

  The thought of him with another woman, though, made my heart ache. I didn’t want his lips near anyone else, his capable hands slipping someone else’s clothes off, his jokes making some other woman laugh. I wanted to be that woman for him, but not if being that woman didn’t mean he was mine.

  And I was lying to myself if I pretended otherwise because I was just as bad as he was. I didn’t want to share. I mean, after that night I looked in his eyes as we came together, I swear I thought that was it. Pure magic. I don’t think I could’ve been any more moved if he’d gotten down on one knee.

  But when I fell for him, I fell into dangerous territory. He knew how I felt now, and I needed to show him I was a woman of my word. I couldn’t falter.

  My phone buzzed and I turned it over. “Does that mean you aren’t free for lunch?”

  “No,” I texted back. “Sorry.”

  I erased the sorry and then hit send. After all, I wasn’t sorry. Unless you count being sorry that he wasn’t sorry. Which he should be. It was all his fault neither of us was going to get laid over our lunch break. Or at least I wasn’t.

  Funny how long I went without good sex and survived. If I didn’t know better, I might wish I’d never had it. At least then I wouldn’t know what I was missing. But now that I knew how good it could be- how consuming and transcendent- it was hard not to crave it all the time.

  Lately, everywhere I looked made me think about sex.

  The icing on my Danish reminded me of sex. The condensation on my water glass reminded me of the water dripping down Will’s muscular chest in the shower. I couldn’t even look at a goddamn table without thinking about how he laid me down that first night we were together and licked me senseless under his chandelier.

  I shuddered at the thought of the way that heavy diamond necklace weighed me down as he took me. It was fucking beautiful, and it was completely depressing to know that I would never have it that good again.

  And then I saw him.

  A handsome, young man walked into the café. His crisp white shirt was open at the top and his tie was hanging around his neck completely undone, much like his disheveled hair. He looked like an underwear model with clothes on.

  He must have felt me staring at him because his bright eyes turned in my direction, and I felt my stomach twist. Fortunately, I looked down at the papers in front of me just before I felt my cheeks get hot. There was something familiar about the way he moved, but I didn’t recognize him. There wasn’t a woman on Earth who would forget a face that chiseled.

  I kept my eyes down and tried to get back to my work, but I was consciously trying not to make my ugly concentration face just in case he looked in my direction again while he waited in line.

  Of course, I never expected him to slide into the chair across from me with his expresso and his overpriced granola bar.

  At first I ignored him and pretended to keep reading what was in front of me, but finally, I looked up.

  He was slumped back in his chair so casually it was like we were old friends or something.

  “Sorry- do I know you?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, breaking his granola bar in half. “I wish you did, though. That’s why I sat down here.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m Ben,” he said, sticking his hand out.

  “Ella,” I said, admiring the way his bed head framed his face.

  He held my hand for a split second too long.

  I got the vibe he was as bold as he was young.

  “Are you a guest in the hotel?” he asked.

  I tilted my head at him. “Do you always ask people personal questions right away, Ben?”

  “Only when they’re pretty girls I’d like to get to know better.”

  I tried to look at him disapprovingly, but I felt myself fall short. “I work here actually.”

  “Is that so?” There was something about his smile that was irresistible. He was exactly the type of guy that Dad’s everywhere feared would run into their daughters.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Event management,” I said, folding my arms. “What do you do?”

  “I’m between jobs at the moment.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks.” He popped a bite of his granola bar into his mouth and stared at me while he was chewing.

  I looked back down at my papers.

  “I guess you’re pretty busy,” he said.

  I let my eyes flicker up towards him without lifting my head. “I am actually.”

  “Shame,” he said, downing his expresso in one go. “You look like
the kind of girl who could show me a good time.”

  I straightened up and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

  He raised his hand to calm me down. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

  “It sure did.”

  “What I meant was, I’m new to the city and I’m eager to find out where the attractive women hang out.”

  I took a sip of my drink. Something about his broad shoulders made me feel too warm.

  “And you look like you might know.”

  I laughed. “You’re pretty full on, aren’t you?”

  He fixed his eyes on mine like he was already fucking me.

  I swallowed.

  He stood up and pushed his chair in. “I won’t bother you anymore since you’re swamped.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “But I enjoyed meeting you, Ella.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” I said.

  “I hope we can continue our conversation another time.”

  As I watched him walk away, I didn’t hope we wouldn’t.

  Chapter 4: Will

  I was checking my phone in Times Square to see if Ella had called when I ran into her.

  “Will?” Her southern drawl was unmistakable. “Oh my god Will Abbott is that you?”

  “Kendra.” I leaned in and pressed my cheek to hers.

  “Well you haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Neither have you,” I said, though her lips looked bigger than I remembered.

  “How have you been?”

  “Good,” I lied. “Great.”

  “I heard about you and Laura. I’m so sorry.”

  Are you? You never did anything but try to hook up with me when we were married. “Did you ever settle down yourself?”

  She pushed her long, manicured nails against my chest. “Don’t be silly, Will. You know I’m only out to have a good time.”

  “Right.”

  “Gosh I haven’t seen you in ages,” she said. “When was the last time?”

  I cringed at the thought.

  “Oh I know!” She brought her palms up to her cheeks. “Stacy’s wedding!”

  “How is Stacy?” I asked, desperate to keep her from mentioning the details of our encounter.

  “Oh she’s great. Divorced, but otherwise fine.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “You don’t keep in touch with Jamie anymore then?” Every time her eyelashes didn’t stick together it was a miracle.

  “I guess not.” I checked my watch. “What brings you to town?”

  “My sister’s getting married soon and I’m the maid of honor.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “But I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh?”

  “You’re thinking I probably have no free time at all.”

  I wasn’t. I swear.

  “But I always have time to get together with you Will Abbott.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  She opened her enormous bag and reached to the bottom of it for what turned out to be a leopard print card holder. “Here,” she said, pulling one out. “Call me when you want to get together. I’ll be in town through Valentine’s Day.”

  “Wow.” That was a long time. Suddenly I was in need of a ton of excuses.

  “We should totally hook up.” This time she dragged one finger down my tie. “For old time’s sake.”

  “Thanks, Kendra. I’ll be sure to call if I have time.”

  “Do.” She batted her eyelashes at me. “You won’t regret it.”

  I smiled and loosened my tie.

  She leaned in to my ear and lowered her voice. “Neither will Little Will. Or should I say Big Will if my memory serves me right.”

  I winced.

  “Ta ta for now.”

  I stuck her card in my pocket and headed off in the opposite direction.

  Kendra was nice to look at- even pleasant to be around as long as her lips were wrapped around my dick- but everything else about her was annoying. Her accent, her card case, her ta-tas- well not her actual ta-tas, just the fact that she said it in conversation. In fact, I think her badgering me had something to do with me being driven right into Laura’s arms. That and the fact that Laura got pregnant.

  On the plus side, her overwhelming presence had taken my mind off of Ella for a few minutes which was proving increasingly difficult.

  Turns out Frank was full of shit. She did want space. No woman had ever tried so hard to avoid me in my whole life. I figured it was because she was hurting and found me difficult to be around with my sex appeal and my tangible desire for her, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

  On the contrary, I found the whole thing infuriating.

  Why couldn’t she work through whatever her problems were and still let me treat her to dinner and fuck her for dessert? She still had to eat. She still had to fuck. Didn’t she?

  When I got home, I slipped into some sweats, poured myself a whiskey, and put Miles Davis on my record player.

  I would’ve preferred to have been taking Ella out for a nice meal and then ravaging her silky body, but a night in with jazz and whiskey would have to suffice. Unfortunately, half way through the bottle I started to think I could have both and almost called her, but that would’ve been a mistake.

  I was smart enough to know that drunk dialing her was the opposite of giving her space, and I wasn’t going to fucking beg. It was supposed to be the other way around. Women begged me to fuck them. They begged me to let them lick my cock.

  Surely as soon as Ella was thinking again she would realize what she’d walked out on and take me up on my fair offer again.

  In the meantime, I would have to sort out my own needs. I considered calling Kendra. She would be at my place in under an hour and she’d suck my dick till it was raw if I wanted her to, but it would be a chore to get her to fuck off afterwards. Plus, then she wouldn’t leave me alone.

  However, if things weren’t going better in a few weeks, she hadn’t been shy about letting me know she was available, and I loved the fact that she was from out of town. After all, I didn’t give a fuck about what gossip she spread with her gentry friends down South. All that really mattered was that she knew her way around a dick. Which she did. And an asshole, but that’s a whole other story.

  I turned up the music, stripped off my clothes, and got into the shower. Between the amount I’d had to drink and how hot the water was, I was delightfully lightheaded.

  I put one hand high on the wall to steady myself and grabbed my dick with the other. Then I stroked myself, lazily at first while I looked for inspiration.

  I didn’t want to jerk off over Ella. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. I tilted my neck back so my face was in the shower stream and I thought about models, but my dick wouldn’t cooperate. I thought about actresses, but I couldn’t find my rhythm. I thought about the threesome I had with two Italian au pairs last summer and still nothing.

  Soon I was dizzy from the heat and the booze. I turned the water off and sat down on the marble bench in the shower so I could catch my breath.

  Immediately, my mind drifted to Ella. I thought about her porcelain skin, about the delicate silhouette of her neck. I thought about her fat bottom lip and how much I liked to suck on it when she’d relaxed a little after a few drinks. I thought about her ass and how much she liked when I scratched my nails across it, and I thought about how her nipples grew hard in my mouth. Soon I had my dick in my hands again as I pictured her biting her lip while I jammed my cock deep inside her. I picked up the pace as I imagined the way her breasts bounced up and down as she rode me and how her mouth fell open when I did her against the wall.

  I felt a buzzing heat at the base of my dick and groaned as I emptied myself into the puddle on the shower floor.

  “That one’s for you, Ella,” I slurred. “You selfish bitch.”

  I stumbled out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist.

  The only time I could remember feeling
so rejected was when I was seventeen and Jenny Schwartz hooked up with Kevin Jackson instead of me.

  And at least in that situation, I had competition.

  I mean, Ella didn’t even have a boyfriend or a lover on the side. She was too serious and ambitious to juggle multiple men. So how could she say no- how could her pussy say no- to me?

  I hadn’t done anything but show her a good time and spoil her rotten, but apparently that wasn’t enough for her.

  No. I didn’t believe that for a second. That was ridiculous.

  It wasn’t that I wasn’t enough. The problem was that I was too fucking much.

  Chapter 5: Ella

  I used to have a little chat in the mornings with Emily, but I’d ceased doing that. However, I had mixed feelings about it. I knew acting stroppy meant that she probably knew she struck a chord with her accusations regarding my relationship with Will. If I really wanted to cover my tracks, I should keep up appearances and behave as I had before.

  But I didn’t see the point. As far as I was concerned, she and Will were thick as thieves, and she probably knew everything anyway. Which meant continuing to go out of my way to shower her with pleasantries would only look pathetic and contrived.

  But it took a lot of energy for me to put on such a cold front. It didn’t feel natural for me. Of course, I didn’t even know what that meant anymore. What felt natural was craving Will, but I was using every spare drop of energy I had to keep myself from doing that. Every time he walked by, I treated him with no more warmth than I would treat a stranger I recognized on the subway.

  Meanwhile, he had stopped paying attention to me, too, which felt neither good nor bad. More accurately, it felt terrible. I know I told him that’s what I wanted, but it was making me impossibly unhappy. It was the same feeling I always got when I watched The Break Up with Jennifer Aniston. There was nothing sadder than two people who cared about each other being unkind to one another and denying everything they’d shared. It sickened me.

  Not that we were ever in a serious relationship or anything. To be honest, I kind of hated myself for being the girl I was. I desperately wanted to be more like Jackie. She would’ve been able to keep things fun by knowing the difference between what was good for her heart and what was good for her body. She never would’ve ruined things with Will like I had.