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The Boss's Daughter

Page 12

by Jasmine Haynes


  She rolled into him, cupped the back of his head and pulled him down for a soft, brief kiss. “At the risk of sounding like a slut, I’ve had a lot of men. Let’s call them friends with benefits. But I’ve never been attached. I’ve always been able to walk away. I’ve never felt connected beyond that moment, even if I’ve fucked them many times. The only man I’ve ever become attached to is you.”

  The lines of his face softened. He’d confessed his fears to her and for that alone, she...God, yes, she loved him. It was so much more than lust. She knew lust intimately, and she’d always been able to walk away once she was sated. With Ward, there’d been synergy. That’s what she’d called it. But in reality, it was love.

  She owed him the words, the emotion. “I love you, Ward,” she whispered solemnly. It felt right. It felt good. “I’ve never said those words to a lover in my life. And I’ve never felt them.” A little burble of laughter welled up. “Correct that, I’ve never even had a lover before. They’ve only been”—she shrugged—“friends with benefits.”

  He slid a warm, strong arm across her back, pressed her close. “Enough to move in with me?”

  She swallowed. Move in? She hadn’t lived with anyone, man or woman, since college. But it was time to change the way she’d done things for so many years. Time to take a chance. “I do need to find a place up here. But I’m kind of messy, and I lose things a lot.”

  “Like the key to your father’s house?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. I’m really good at my work, but everything else seems to be an afterthought. Where exactly to do you live?”

  “San Carlos.” The community was on the Peninsula between Belmont and Redwood City, a twenty-minute drive to the airport and forty-five minutes up to the City when there wasn’t any traffic.

  “That should be perfect.” She raised a brow. “Do you have any family who will absolutely hate my guts?”

  “Parents in Carmel, a brother in Atlanta and a sister in Seattle, a few nieces and nephews. Everyone will love you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “As long as they don’t figure out what a slut I am. Most people can’t handle that.”

  He shoved a hand beneath her hair, cupped the back of her head. “That’s our business. But for the record, where your sluttiness is concerned, I’m the only one that counts. You’re my slut.”

  He’d said that to Bill. She’d loved the way he’d claimed her. Yes, that word was getting easier all the time. “Okay. Here’s the rundown. I love you. I’m messy. I lose things. I’m a slut. I love it when you watch me doing dirty things. I really love touching myself for you, whether there’s anyone else there or not. And your come is the sweetest. Anything else we need to discuss?”

  “How do you squeeze the toothpaste tube?”

  She had to think. Honestly, she didn’t think when she squeezed the toothpaste. “The middle, I guess.”

  “I do it from the end.”

  “That figures.” She gave him a snarky little smile.

  “We’ll need separate tubes.”

  “Are you going to cook for me?”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Only if you pay me in sexual favors.”

  “For instance?”

  “Like riding me right now reverse cowgirl style so I can watch you in the mirror.”

  She slipped a hand through his open zipper and palmed his cock. He was thick and hard again. “I can do that, big boy.”

  “Then you better undress me right this fucking minute.”

  She stopped, gave in to seriousness for one moment longer. “I don’t always need the others, Ward. It’s not the only way I can be with you. It’s just fun. A treat once in a while to make us both wild.”

  He held her still. “You don’t have to explain. We’ll make it good for each other, I promise.” Then he parted her thighs and stroked her clit until it was a hard button beneath his fingers. “Now rip my clothes off and ride me, baby. Because I need to watch every move you make.”

  * * * * *

  Ward took her back to her father’s house in the morning. He’d insisted even though Cassandra had said it wasn’t necessary. But he wanted the formality. He needed his boss to agree.

  “I’m in love with your daughter, and I’d like your permission for her to move in with me.”

  Holt stared at Ward for a good ten seconds. Then he laughed heartily and clapped him on the back. “I knew there were sparks the minute you told me you’d met her at the house that day.”

  “Yep. There were sparks.” Hell yes. She’d set him on fire. He squeezed Cassandra’s hand. If Holt knew what really happened that morning, he’d probably throw him out. If he knew all the things Ward had done to her since, Holt would have gotten out his shotgun. If he’d owned one.

  But then he looked at Ruby Williams leaning against Holt, her arm through his, and he figured his boss had his own unmentionables going on.

  “You treat my girl right, you hear,” Holt warned him.

  “He’s going to do all the cooking,” Cassandra said. “And he said he’ll clean up after me.”

  Ward pulled away and gave her a look. “I never said that. I’m just going to rag on you until you clean up your own mess.”

  “Spoilsport,” she pouted.

  The look turned his insides to mush. God, he loved her. She was unlike any woman he’d never known. She made him feel things he’d never felt. He’d done things for her he’d never thought he was capable. They were kinky and out-there, but he’d loved every one. He wanted more, and he wanted to give her more. He needed to watch her pleasure, taste it, feel it, indulge in it. And he wanted to wake up beside her every morning from this moment on.

  He had Holt to thank. If he hadn’t forgotten his computer that day, Ward would have driven straight up the highway and missed falling in love with the boss’s daughter.

  ###

  Thank you for reading. Please consider leaving a review for this book.

  If you missed them, here’s where you can get the first two books in the series:

  Revenge Sex, West Coast Book 1

  Submitting to the Boss, West Coast Book 2

  Don’t miss The Other Man, Book 4 in the West Coast series (coming 2013)

  For every hotwife and her husband, there’s always the other man.

  And Spencer Benedict is the perfect other man.

  Until he meets a woman for whom he wants to be the only man.

  Enjoy the following excerpts and meet the author!

  Twisted by Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1

  Take Your Pick

  Double the Pleasure

  About the Author

  Have you ever wondered about past lives, reincarnation, life after death? Did you love the film Dead Again? If you’re a fan of contemporary romances with a dash of paranormal, then try Jasmine’s new Reincarnation Tales, sexy stories about love that never dies.

  Twisted by Love

  Reincarnation Tales Book 1

  Copyright 2012 Jasmine Haynes

  Cover design by Rae Monet Inc

  A love that spans lifetimes, an evil that has followed them through the ages...

  Bern Daniels doesn’t believe in ghosts, UFOs, or reincarnation, but when he sees Livie Scott, it’s as if he’s known her forever. Now he can’t get her out of his mind. He wants her in his bed and in his life. For keeps. He’s even starting to believe they’ve lived past lives together.

  Will jealousy out of the past come back to destroy their future?

  Livie is unaccountably drawn to the tall, dark stranger. He literally sweeps her off her feet. And she’s oh so willing to let him. But her sister Toni is planted firmly in her path to happiness. Livie has been forced to choose between a man and Toni before; is she destined to play the same twisted game with her sister over and over?

  Livie and Bern soon discover there are shadows lurking from their past, past lives that is, which threaten everything they believe in, everything they want. And even their lives.

  Excerpt


  He saw her out of the corner of his eye as he crossed the lobby. She was just a flash in his periphery. His immediate thought was that he hadn’t believed he’d ever see her again, accompanied by emotions of loss, need, desire, and even anger. Quickly on the heels of that came the understanding that yes, of course, she was here in San Francisco, right where her sister said she’d be. Vast relief. Intense joy. Her name was on the tip of his tongue, yet the moment he turned, ready to call it out, the name vanished. It was like a dream you suddenly woke from, where one moment you were convinced it was real, and the next, the details were gone. He realized he didn’t know the woman at all.

  Her mahogany hair, damp from the rain, swayed across her back as she walked at a fast clip, her tennis shoes incongruous with a tailored skirt that outlined her trim curves. Her blouse, also damp, clung to her enticingly. In profile, her eyelashes were long and lush, the color of her eyes darker than her hair. She didn’t smile, didn’t look at anyone, not even him though he’d stopped to watch her.

  No, he didn’t know her, her fine-boned features unfamiliar, yet he still felt that original smack of recognition. It was something in the way she moved. But her name...her name was gone, not even a hint of its rhythm or the letter it began with.

  She joined the throng in front of the elevators, shuffled forward as the middle car arrived, and filed inside amid the dense crowd. She turned to face front, meeting his eyes—though he could have imagined that.

  He stood a moment longer, a rock in a stream of office workers. Perhaps she’d had surgery, changed her nose or altered her delicate jaw line. Something...he couldn’t put his finger on it, because really, she wasn’t familiar. At least not in looks.

  Someone jostled his arm, he shook himself, then dashed to the elevator, making it on just before the doors closed. The car stopped and started at several floors, then she brushed past him to exit on the twelfth.

  His skin heated with the brief contact, his heart raced. And he was struck anew with the sense that he’d known her. Intimately.

  If you enjoyed this excerpt, look for Twisted by Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1!

  Try a sample of Jasmine’s naughty MMF ménage story.

  Take Your Pick

  Copyright 2012 Jasmine Haynes

  Cover design by Rae Monet Inc

  Previously published in 2010

  Two very different yet enticing men, one very big choice...

  Grant Tyler is sophisticated, intelligent, controlled, and a highly successful CEO of a Fortune 500. He’s Rena Lancaster’s perfect match, same background, same career path, they speak each other’s language. In bed, he makes her see stars. But then there’s Karl Kristiansen. Every bit as virile, masculine and intelligent as Grant, he’s her contractor, earthy, hands work-roughened, body tough, and powerful. And he takes Rena’s senses by storm.

  When Grant decides he wants Rena exclusively, he forces a decision on her. And it’s Karl who comes up with the perfect test for choosing between them, make love with them both at the same time and see who does the best job.

  When their sexual play becomes a true ménage, with Grant and Karl each trying to top the other, willing to do anything Reba asks, even touch each other, the three of them together are like spontaneous combustion. Now that she’s had a taste of the real thing, how can Rena choose between these two perfect men when they both give her different things she craves?

  Excerpt

  Grant Tyler stood before the second-floor window of his San Francisco condo and stared out over the dark bay waters as if they were a black hole in the middle of his universe. Rena had left only a few minutes ago, and he could still smell her sensual musk in the room, on his skin, still taste her on his lips. He was used to issuing ultimatums, even if he didn’t like to be forced into it. In the business world, you started with diplomacy, but there was always the situation or the person that pushed you to the edge, and you had to take the my-way-or-the-highway approach.

  Rena Lancaster was gorgeous, with blonde hair past her shoulders when she let it down—literally and metaphorically—a firm figure, luscious breasts, and skin soft and smooth to the touch. In her midthirties, she was one hell of a piece of perfect womanhood. She’d become his private obsession and his private hell. She wasn’t aware of that; over the last six years since his divorce, he’d grown as used to controlling his emotions as he was to giving orders. And he knew Rena might choose to walk away.

  But the idea of her choosing someone else made him fucking crazy.

  He’d thought to eradicate this kind of emotionalism. He’d lost his wife over it. He was lusty and hot-blooded, and his wife had been overwhelmed by his desires and emotions. And his jealousy. He fully admitted she hadn’t done much to inspire it. It was simply part of his nature. If another man got too friendly, he stepped in. He’d learned too late that sometimes a man needed to change his nature. He’d sworn he wouldn’t ruin another relationship. He’d therefore bottled up his jealousy and, ever since, had given his women all the freedom they required. Rena had required more freedom than most.

  Yet sharing her with nameless, faceless lovers was killing him. He’d pretended he never even thought about it. He kept himself in check so she wouldn’t have a clue, concentrating on her, on making her feel so good she wouldn’t need another man.

  Obviously it hadn’t worked. There were other considerations as well, the kind of woman she was being paramount among them.

  She’d never been married; her career came first. She wasn’t interested in raising a family, and she didn’t need a man to keep her financially secure. She never demurred about her sex life; she loved sex and lots of it. She didn’t mash it into his face when she had a date, but there were times he’d asked to see her, only to have her tell him she was busy. If it was something innocuous like drinks with a girlfriend, she told him. It was the times she gave no explanation that crawled beneath his skin like parasites worming deep into him.

  He’d always admired her business acumen, always found her sexy. She was strong, independent, and knew exactly what she wanted. He’d gravitated to her for those traits, but they were now the very qualities that made him insane.

  There was hot obsessive sex, lust, and desire, and there was his wanting to wake up beside a woman, to watch her over the breakfast table, to think about a future. He felt all those things for her. He didn’t know if it was love. He only knew that he needed to find out.

  And he couldn’t do it when he was crazy thinking of her with another lover.

  He was actually quite proud of how controlled and emotionless he’d sounded. You need to decide if you want the same thing. Yet it drove him nuts that she withheld pieces of herself, that she might possibly give those pieces to someone else.

  If she decided she didn’t want him, he didn’t know what he’d do. His heart climbed into his throat, choking him. He feared what he might be capable of.

  If you enjoyed this excerpt, look for Take Your Pick, available very, very soon!

  Try a sample of Jasmine’s Prescott Twins series!

  Double the Pleasure

  Prescott Twins, Book 1

  Copyright 2011 Jasmine Haynes

  Cover design by Rae Monet Inc

  Previously published in 2005 in the Twin Peaks Anthology

  One night, one chance, but will she have the courage...

  Hitting the big 3-0 birthday like a brick wall, shy, reserved Kristin Prescott just has to break out of her sensible shoes and buttoned-up blouses and find herself a man. And the only one who will do is Ross Sloan, her sexy boss. The problem is, she isn't Ross's type; he prefers sensual, seductive women like her identical twin. But, Kristin isn't sure she can let go of her inhibitions.

  Unless she pretends to be her sister.

  Ross Sloan has lusted after his secretary, Kristin Prescott, since the moment she walked into his office. When she seduces him while playing the role of her twin sister, he sees through her masquerade immediately. But Ross wants both sides of Kristin: the pr
im, efficient woman who runs his office and the passionate woman she exposes in the guise of her sister. Forcing Kristin to release her inhibitions and claiming the desirable woman beneath the facade becomes his ambition.

  But will the pleasure cost them their business relationship? Or can they have both?

  Excerpt

  Ross saw her the minute she entered the hotel bar. Miss Prescott. His Miss Prescott. In an exceptionally short red dress with an unbelievably gorgeous pair of thighs to match those calves, better even than he’d imagined. Reality certainly surpassed fantasy. Damn. That red dress...

  It didn’t matter. In the morning she’d still be his secretary. And he needed her.

  She turned, and her gaze traveled over the cluster of tables flanking the small dance floor. The bar was by no means full, and if she’d been looking, she couldn’t have missed him sitting at the far end of the counter.

  She never even looked.

  Just as well, it allowed him to observe every curve revealed by the brevity of her skirt. Her hair cascaded over shoulders covered only by the thin red straps of her dress. Oh, yeah, her hair was exactly the stuff of his fantasies, rich shades of reds and browns, curling softly over the tops of her breasts. Speaking of breasts, if he’d seen her like this in his office, he’d never have been able to keep his hands off her.

  His heart stopped as she touched the red-and-black beaded choker at her throat. Just a brief caress. His eyes tracked the brush of her fingers down the slender line of her throat, leading his gaze to the soft swell of a plump breast. Magnificent. His smart, efficient secretary was sexy as all get-out.

 

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