The Boss's Daughter

by Jasmine Haynes

  She smiled like he was an innocent boy or a doddering old man. “Because I like to be watched. I loved what it did to me while you were watching me”—her voice deepened seductively—“and I want more of it.”

  “Maybe this is all too kinky for me.” It might have been before—he was a fairly vanilla kind of guy—but with two brief events, she’d hooked him.

  “I’m kinky. I love games. And I like playing with more than one man at a time.” She stopped a moment, letting the idea sink in. “But it’s never felt as good as when you were watching me.”

  In an odd way, it stroked his ego. As if only he could truly fulfill her.

  “Indulge me,” she whispered.

  Everything about her beguiled him. He didn’t even hate himself when he said, “Pick a man. I’ll watch. For now.” He let the last words be a promise to himself as well as her. He wouldn’t take this forever, but damn if he didn’t want it now.

  “Him,” she said, looking point blank at a chubby kid sitting with a couple of male friends. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five.

  “You’re joking, right?” He’d expected her to choose a tall, broad-shouldered Brad Pitt look-a-like. A CFO or a CEO. This one resembled a junior accountant.

  “I want him,” she emphasized, her red lips glistening.

  He laughed. “A man wearing glasses and a kid with a paunch.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You make it sound bad. Glasses are sexy.” She raised one brow. “You could wear contacts if you wanted.”

  No, he couldn’t. They dried out in his eyes no matter how permeable they were supposed to be, and he just couldn’t hack them. Telling her that was too wimpy. “I prefer the staid executive appearance,” he said dryly.

  She batted his arm. “You’re anything but staid.”

  She wouldn’t know. Other than watching her, he hadn’t done a thing that wasn’t staid. “So do you want me to leave while you ply your wares?”

  She didn’t take offense. “Hmm,” she mused. “What’s the best approach? Oh”—she sat up straight—“I’ve got the perfect thing.”

  She paused and he was obviously supposed to ask. “What?”

  “You send him a drink with a note that says your sister thinks he’s hot.”

  Ward laughed outright. A few heads turned. The chubby kid glanced at him, then immediately dropped his gaze. “He’s not going to believe that.”

  “Yes, he will,” she insisted.

  No self-respecting brother would set up sex for his sister. But then Ward wasn’t her brother, and he’d already proven he had no self-respect left. If he had, he’d have dragged her out of there. Instead, he played her kinky game and got hard imagining her performance.

  “Now I’ll sit at the bar,” she told him. “You order the drink and send him over there.” She wrinkled her nose. “We definitely need to get him away from his friends.”

  A gorgeous woman coming on to him? Oh yeah, the kid would ditch his buds. He was going to have the time of his life. “Then what? Where will you take him?”

  “My car.”

  “In the parking lot?”

  She gave him a look. “Of course. It’ll be hot. Risky. He’ll love it and so will you.”

  “You’re insane.” But Christ, he liked it. He’d never met a woman like her. If Holt knew... He wouldn’t think about Holt.

  “Give me ten minutes, then follow. My car is down at the end, where the lights are broken.”

  She’d planned this, picking an out-of-the-way parking spot where the lamps didn’t work. “Go sit at the bar,” he directed.

  His blood rushed in his veins as she sauntered to the far end of the bar and hitched her delectable rump onto the edge of a stool. He could feel every breath in and out, and his skin seemed to be stretched too tightly over his bones. He was on edge, rock hard, and ready. Removing a pen from his shirt pocket, he wrote on a napkin, then raised a finger to signal the waiter. Telling him to pour the guy a mug of the same beer he was already drinking, he handed over the folded napkin.

  Then he sat back to watch. It was quite amusing. The kid was not the cream of his little crop. The opposite was true. All three young men put their heads together over the note. The best of the three made a face—Why not me? Gesturing wildly, the middle one, a black-haired kid with a three-day-old scruffy beard, was obviously telling his friend to go for it. The kid himself looked at Ward, then Cassandra, and back to Ward.

  For his part, Ward simply nodded. When he’d been twenty-five, he would have figured something was totally wrong if a hot chick had her brother buy him a drink and invite him over. A potential mugging. Or blackmail of some kind. It could have been anything. But after five minutes in the huddle, the kid rose and carried his fresh mug of beer to the bar.

  She had her hand on his thigh within three minutes. Another two, making a total of five minutes, she was whispering in his ear. The ear turned a bright shade of pink.

  Ward felt her whisper viscerally, a tug right down to his groin. They were crazy, nuts, insane. There was something wrong with what they were doing. His wife had cuckolded him with his best man. He should have been disgusted. But the physical evidence was insurmountable: his skin buzzed with excitement, his ears hummed with his elevated blood pressure, and his cock ached with need. He hadn’t touched her, kissed her, or fucked her. Yet Cassandra made him feel alive in a way he’d never known.

  He changed her plan, though. Before she left with her quarry, he went to the restroom in the back. He turned halfway along the hall to find her leading the kid out the front door. His friends were watching the event and didn’t notice Ward slip out the back.

  In the shadow of the door’s alcove, he watched as they turned the corner into the parking lot. She clung to kid’s arm, her lips close to his ear. Whispers. Passion. She was so goddamn good at it. The boy was simply a mass of hormones ready to do her bidding.

  At the end of the parking lot where it was dark and seductive, she maneuvered him between the cars.

  Keeping an eye on the street in case his buddies followed, Ward stuffed his hands in his pockets and ventured close for a clear view.

  Cassandra molded her body to the kid’s. Her fingers in his lapels, she held him still for her kiss.

  Christ, Ward experienced it down to his very bones. Her tantalizing scent swirled in his head, and he could taste the rich brew of Kahlua, cream, and vodka on her tongue. He felt her moans vibrating deep inside his chest.

  He slipped between two cars and stood beneath the overhanging branches of a tree, effectively concealing himself from the street. The kid was oblivious to the world around him, bewitched by her mouth and her fingers as they roamed south along his body.

  Her murmured words drifted a note higher than the traffic out on the main road, but remained unintelligible to him. But the kid heard. And he groaned. Cassandra slid down his body.

  For a moment, Ward couldn’t draw a breath, and he felt every frantic pump of his heart. His cock seemed to pulse with desire. His balls filled. And he had to move closer. He had to see.

  The kid leaned against the car as Cassandra unzipped him. The sound was a like the roar of an engine in Ward’s ears. Hunkered at his feet, she looked up at the kid, then smiled, her lips dark. Her hand wrapped around his cock, she ran her tongue through his slit. The boy’s hands went flat against the car door as if he had to hold himself up. Or he was afraid he’d plunge his fingers into her hair and force his cock down her throat.

  Her mouth was beautiful as she took him, sliding all that flesh deep, drawing him out slowly. Ward felt that suck right to the very tip of his cock. He wanted it. He wanted her. Screw letting this kid have her. Yet he couldn’t move.

  She held the hard young cock in her grip and sucked long and slow, then fast, pumping the shaft as the same time.

  The kid was panting, his head falling back, his eyes closed.

  There was a part of Ward that couldn’t believe he was standing in a darkened parking lot watching the woman he wa
nted above all else suck off another man. And there was a part of him that was that boy. With only one tiny atom of willpower that he still possessed, he held his hands fisted at his sides and did not stroke his cock in time with her mouth. But he could have. Right out here in the open, oh yeah, he could have.

  Then the kid cried out, his hips jerking. And Ward was mesmerized by the workings of her cheeks, her hand, and her lips as she kept him riding the edge for long moments.

  It was time. “Excuse me,” Ward said in a voice loud enough to penetrate the kid’s orgasmic fog. “That’s my car you’re leaning against.”

  It took a full ten seconds for him to open his eyes and fix them on Ward. There was no light of recognition.

  And Ward said. “Yes, that’s my car. And that”—he pointed to Cassandra—“is my wife.”

  Chapter Six

  The word wife galvanized him, and the kid was suddenly grabbing at his cock, trying to stuff himself back in his pants. Cassandra didn’t stand but merely let the car behind her bear her weight.

  “Oh, Jesus, oh fuck, man.” The kid squeaked as he accidentally caught flesh and hair in the zipper. “Sorry. She didn’t say.”

  Then he was flying out from between the cars, his shirt untucked, his zipper half open. The tip of a condom peaked out.

  Cassandra stood and straightened her skirt. “That was mean,” she said, a hint of laughter beneath the mild tone.

  Ward shrugged. “He got his. I let him finish. And he’ll be flying high telling all his friends what the fabulous hottie did to him in the parking lot. And he’ll forget all about the husband showing up.”

  She preened at his description of her. “He knew you weren’t my husband. Or my brother.”

  “You had him turned so inside out he didn’t even recognize me.” He pointed. “Is this your car?”

  She licked her lips seductively, then nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Give me the keys.”

  She opened her small clutch and withdrew a key fob. Ward held out his hand, and after only a slight hesitation, she laid the rental car key on his palm.

  He beeped the remote, grabbed her hand, pulled her out of the way as he opened the back door, then shoved her in.

  “What are you doing?”

  He shut the car door on her and got in the front seat. “That was your game,” he said as he fastened the seatbelt. “This is mine.”

  After starting the engine, he adjusted the rearview mirror in order to see her. Her face was hidden in shadow, but her blue eyes seemed to gleam as if lit by their own light. Looking over his shoulder, he backed out quickly, hit the end of the lot, and bumped through the dip at the edge of the street.

  “What are you planning, Ward?” she said in a singsong voice.

  “Your punishment.”

  * * * * *

  Punishment? Cassandra hadn’t anticipated that, but it sounded delicious. “What for?”

  His glasses reflected the moon, and she couldn’t see his eyes in the rearview mirror. “You cheated,” he accused. “You sucked him with a condom on.”

  That was interesting. “Did you want to taste him on me?”

  He’d turned back to the road. Cassandra continued watching him in the mirror instead of paying attention to their route. She wanted his answer and didn’t care where he took her.

  “No,” he said. “It’s simply more debasing when a man forces his come down a woman’s throat.”

  Crossing her legs, she leaned back against the seat, staying more toward the middle to make sure he could see her. “I beg to differ. It’s not debasing at all. It’s empowering when a man loses control.” She loved the salty-sweet taste of come on her tongue, though, as a general rule, she didn’t suck off a man she’d met only ten minutes before without deploying a condom.

  He smiled broadly, his teeth gleaming in the reflection. “Then perhaps I’ll permit you to be empowered.”

  Her mouth watered. She liked his talk of permission and punishment. Few men had tried to take control, but Ward had an effect on her. He was full of surprises. Her performance in the parking lot had been all for him. She enjoyed risks, but she’d felt safer with him watching. He’d served as both a look-out and a protector. The high had been incredible. She’d wanted to touch herself. If her little friend hadn’t come so quickly, she might have been driven to that. Wet and needy, Ward’s proximity had thrust her even higher.

  “Shall I pull up my skirt for you?”

  It was as if her words sucked all sound out of the car except the sharp intake of his breath. “Yes,” he said.

  Cassandra eased the skirt up her legs. Ward turned the mirror down. She paused with the hem just below the juncture of her thighs. “More?” she asked.

  “More,” he demanded.

  She tugged, revealing the trimmed curls of her pussy, a shade lighter than her hair. She hadn’t worn panties for the night’s activities. “Don’t have a crash,” she warned.

  “I’m in no danger of that.” Yet his voice was deeper, harsh. “Touch yourself.”

  Spreading her legs, she dipped her hand down, down, down, until her fingers were slippery. She was aware of the car turning, the bump of a parking lot entrance, the slight jolt of the brakes as they came to a rest. The relative safety of where they were was his concern. She simply closed her eyes and let sensation take over.

  “Oh yes,” she murmured. She’d always loved her own touch, but his gaze on her in the mirror made her wetter, hotter. She circled and stroked, slid inside, then went back to her clitoris. Her hips started to roll against her fingers, creating a different, deeper friction. “That’s so good. I wish men could do it like this.” She sighed. “But they’re too hard or they miss the spot. Or...Yum.” She talked and oohed and aahed, laying it on thick for him. She opened her eyes occasionally to gauge his reaction. The mirror now showed only his chest, but with his head slightly turned, the lines of his face were taut, his gaze riveted on her reflection.

  “You want to touch this. I know you do.” She strummed herself. His breathing grew harsh. “Oh yes, you do. Yes, yes, yes.” She licked her lips and had to close her eyes as the pleasure worked its way through her body, down her arms, her legs, to her toes, the tips of her breasts. “This is so much better, so much hotter.” She bit her lip and moaned. Yes, she loved her own touch, but his eyes on her increased it tenfold.

  Her hips bucked and white heat gathered, then exploded out. She trembled and quivered, chanting words she couldn’t remember the second after they left her lips.

  Oh yes, yes, yes, everything was so much better when Ward was watching. It might be the only way to go from now on.

  * * * * *

  Ward no longer wanted the reflection, which made her seem distant and out of his reach. He had to see it all. He turned, his grip tight on the seat back.

  In the last throes of her orgasm, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes, yes, yes.” She bit her lip. “Oh God, I want you. Please, please, please.” Clamping her legs tight around her hand, her hips rocked. “I need you, yes, please.”

  He was sure she didn’t hear her own words; they simply slipped from her lips, meaningless. Her mouth begged to be kissed. Her pussy begged for his tongue. He wanted it so badly his cock pulsed in his pants. He had no control. He’d take any morsel she offered, yet a kernel of self-preservation remained. This woman would crush him if he let her.

  Their earlier conversation had been mere bravado on his part. If she only knew, he was actually her slave. When she finally opened her extraordinary blue eyes and focused on him, he smiled, feigning a control he didn’t feel. “That was nice.”

  Her lips curved dreamily. “Yes, it was.”

  He tossed his glasses onto the passenger seat. Close up, he could see just fine without them. And he was going to be very close up. The doors had unlocked automatically when he killed the engine, and he yanked on the handle. Opening the back, he climbed in beside her, pushing her over with his hip.

  “What are you doing back here?” sh
e asked but put up no fight.

  “Exactly what you wanted me to do.” He trapped her thick hair in his fist, holding her still.

  Her lips were close and tempting in the darkened car. He’d been driving aimlessly, scanning her in the mirror and hoping he’d stumble upon a place to stop. He’d found it, the high school, its lot outside the tennis courts deserted, with the added bonus of an ivy-covered fence to shield them from passersby on the street.

  He thought of the kid at the bar, the risk she’d taken, how easily they could have been seen, how quickly she bent to suck him. Ward had to admit he’d allowed her to tease him, turn him into a cuckold, a peeper, a wimp. Now he was in the driver’s seat, metaphorically speaking.

  He wanted the kiss, but didn’t indulge. Instead he tightened his arm across her shoulder blades, tugged her head back by the hair, and growled out the frustration and anger that was as close to the surface as his desire. “If you really want to swallow, then you need to suck me.”

  He shoved his hand between her legs, savored the wet heat of her pussy. She bit his lip.

  “Bitch.” The bite hadn’t been hard, and his tone wasn’t harsh. “Suck me.”

  “Make me,” she whispered.

  He pushed her down. “Now suck me,” he said again. “Or do you want a condom?” In all conscience, no matter his tangled emotions of the moment, he had to give her the choice.

  She tilted her chin up to look at him. “Do I have anything to worry about?”

  His last affair had been brief and over six months ago. And he’d always practiced safe sex. “No.”

  Her eyes drew in the light of the moon and sparkled like sapphires. “Then force me to do it.”

  “Unbuckle my belt.”

  “Make me,” she murmured again.

  He forced her fingers to the buckle, held them as she took care of the belt and his zipper. Then she stopped once again.