Best of Penny Wylder: Boss Romance

Home > Other > Best of Penny Wylder: Boss Romance > Page 13
Best of Penny Wylder: Boss Romance Page 13

by Wylder, Penny


  "Is that a command?"

  "A request."

  She rolls towards me. "What is it?"

  "Let me take you home. I don't want to be the guy that has sex with you in his office and sends you off in a cab."

  "I'd like that,” she says, and she pulls my head down to kiss me. I let her. After all, she's more than earned it.

  "Okay." I throw my clothes on quickly, but she takes her time, moving slowly like she's still in the midst of her afterglow. I'd be lying if I didn't say that made the male monster inside me more than a bit smug. I take the time to help her, clasping her bra and buttoning her shirt--a kiss taken for every button closed. Until we're just kissing. Her kisses are long and slow, and I'm a little in love with the softness of her mouth.

  "Let's go," I say, "before a janitor catches me taking you again."

  "It's Friday night." She's laughing. "No janitors."

  I give her a pointed look up and down. "We can stay if you like."

  "If it's all the same to you," she says, taking my hand, "I'd rather not spend all of the night in your office."

  "Fair enough."

  We find a cab together, and I never let go of her hand. Once inside the cab I pull her against me and wrap my arms around her. Her head fits against my chest in a way that makes me ache. She leans against me in comfortable silence as we cross the river. Her apartment building is in a nice neighborhood in Queens. I pay the driver and step out behind Alyssa. She seems surprised. "You didn't think I was going to see you into the house?"

  "No, I didn't."

  "Fine." I nod. "I'll do you one better." Leaning down, I sweep her feet out from under her and start to carry her towards the door.

  "Charles what are you doing?"

  I try to control my grin. "I'm quite literally taking you home."

  She's shaking her head, even as she's instinctively looped her arm around my neck and curled into me. We awkwardly maneuver the doorways; I carry her up the stairs despite her protests. I'm enjoying the feeling of her in my arms, and don't particularly want to put her down.

  She reaches out and unlocks her door. I push it open with my foot and we make it through without me banging her head--small miracles. Her apartment is clean and nicely decorated, it's also easy to tell where the bedroom is. I head straight there, laying her down across it. I sit next to her, and she's beaming up at me. "You really didn't have to do that."

  "I wanted to." She catches my hand and our fingers tangle together in the silence.

  "Will you stay?" she asks.

  My sex drive leaps at the thought of all the things we could do together with a whole night and a real bed. Soon. "Not tonight,” I say, even though it kills me. "You're tired, and we both know what will happen."

  She smirks at me. "Like it's a bad thing?"

  "Never a bad thing.” I lean down and press a kiss to her stomach. "But I want more than just sex from you. You know that, right?"

  She looks at our hands. "Do things like this really happen?"

  "I guess so," I say, standing. "I'm going to think of somewhere we can go to start your New York bucket list."

  She follows me to the door. "I look forward to it. It's really too bad you're not staying. I'll certainly be thinking about you."

  The look in her eyes says she's going to be doing more than just thinking. Two can play at this game. I grip the back of her neck firmly and tilt her face back to look at me. "You can touch yourself as much as you want, but from now until Monday you are not allowed to orgasm without my permission." I feel her pulse speed up under my thumb and her pupils dilate. "Or, if you choose to ignore that, you can find out how much I would enjoy punishing you."

  I take a kiss, forceful and deep. I want to be imprinted on every part of her consciousness tonight. "Do you understand?" I ask.

  "Yes, Sir."

  I kiss her on the forehead. "I'll see you soon."

  * * *

  By Sunday afternoon, I'm going crazy. I have to see her.

  I've had my phone in my hand to call her all day today, and I haven't been able to do it. Calling her on the phone makes me feel like I'm in high school. I don't want to sit in my apartment and talk with her on the phone. I want to see her.

  I want to touch her and kiss her and talk with her while I'm wrapped around her and inside her. I want to tell her exactly where to touch me and look her in the eye while she gets me off. I want to keep my earlier promise to taste her everywhere, and order her to name each part of her body as I do so I can see her flush. I want to feel her squirming while trying to keep my command to keep still. Yeah, that settles it. I grab my jacket and keys and head for the door.

  I'm sick to my stomach the entire ride over. Even though I feel like we're on the same page, I'm still nervous. This is all so new. Anything could go wrong. This is a thrill for her--exciting and new--what if she suddenly realizes that being under someone's control isn't what she wants after all? This is what I want. I know that's not going to change. But for her the novelty could wear off. At best, it ends. At worst I'm painted as...well, hopefully it won't be the worst. I've already lived that. I force my lungs to breathe through that gnawing fear and try to focus on the moment. Right now, everything is perfect.

  Her apartment building looks different in the daylight, smaller and having more character. Her street is lined with trees, and there are a couple kids riding bikes down the sidewalk. I've lived in Manhattan for years, but I think I could learn to like Queens. My first impression of it is that it seems homey.

  I pay the driver, and lucky for me someone is coming out of her building. I catch the door and head inside, jogging up to the second floor. There's no doorbell in here so I knock. Okay, maybe I knock a little too hard. Accident, I swear.

  I hear the bolt unlatching and my heart leaps. Alyssa opens the door and it's clear I'm not who she expected. "Charles."

  "I'm sorry, I know I should have called. I just had to see you." I lean forward and kiss her. I feel her start to kiss me back before she stops and pulls away. "I'm really happy to see you, but now isn't a good time."

  My stomach tightens. "Why, what's wrong?"

  A woman's voice calls from deeper in the apartment. "Alyssa, who's at the door?"

  "Just a second, Mom." She presses her lips together. "My parents decided to surprise me this weekend by just showing up."

  She looks pissed but I have to smile. "I'd really like to meet them."

  "And how do you want to play that?" she asks. "As my boyfriend or my boss?"

  Crap. She has a point. "I think it's easier to sell boss than boyfriend."

  "Yeah me too."

  "Alyssa?" A plump woman in her sixties comes around the corner from the living room. Her hair is streaked with silver, but she's beautiful. Alyssa looks so much like her. "Mom," Alyssa's voice is a little strangled. "This is my boss, Charles Saxon."

  "I'm so sorry to intrude. My cell phone died while I was out in the city, and I needed to see about some presentation materials for tomorrow."

  Her mom comes over and immediately pulls me into a hug. "No trouble at all! It's so good to meet you. Why don't you come in?" Over her shoulder, Alyssa is mouthing at me 'I'm so sorry.'

  I follow them into the living room. Alyssa clears her throat, Charles these are my parents, Jim and Gloria Harrington."

  I shake her fathers hand, "It's really good to meet you both. I--"

  "We all just ordered Thai food, and there will be more than enough for four. Won't you stay for dinner, Charles?" Gloria is already herding me towards the couch, despite the look on Alyssa's face.

  I look over at Jim, and he's got a smile on his face. He sees what's happening, but he's going to let it happen anyway. I can already see that Gloria is a force of nature and that he loves her for it. "Sure," I say. "I'd be happy to stay."

  "Excellent,” Gloria says. "I can't wait to hear all about the work you two do together."

  I sit down on the couch, and Alyssa sits next to me, stiff and silent. This is awkward
. "I'll tell you what I can."

  "Let me get you some water,” Gloria says, and leaves the room. Alyssa smiles. "She's always the hostess."

  Jim stands up and nods to me. "I'm going to pick up the food. I'll be back in a little while." More quietly he says to me, "Good luck."

  He leaves, and Alyssa and I are alone for a moment. "I'm so sorry,” I whisper.

  "Not your fault,” she sighs.

  Gloria comes back with a glass of ice water and hands it to me. "Thank you."

  "No trouble at all." She sits in one of the chairs across from Alyssa and I. "So,” she says, smiling at us. "How long have you been sleeping together?"

  I choke on my water.

  11

  Alyssa

  "I'm sorry?" Charles says, trying to recover from water coming out of his nose. I could tell him that there's really no coming back from doing that in front of someone's mom, but I don't think it would help. Besides, it would only be to distract myself from my own mortification.

  "Mom,” I say. "Why on earth would you ask that?"

  She gives me a look I've seen many times before, and I hate it that she's right. "I wasn't born yesterday, Lys. It's written all over the two of you." She looks over at Charles. "You really expect me to believe a man like you would let his phone die?"

  "That's your proof?" I ask. "Really?"

  "No,” she says. "The look on your face when you came around the corner is. But the phone thing is total bullshit too."

  Charles laughs, nearly choking on his water again. "You're right, Mrs. Harrington, it is." He reaches over and grabs my hand. "And you were right about us. But we're not just sleeping together."

  "Is that so."

  "I actually came over to ask Alyssa if she wanted to spend the evening with me. I've been helping her see New York. My original plan was eating in followed by Coney Island."

  I look at him and ask him with my eyes if he's telling the truth. His face says yes, but there definitely would have been sex involved. I've never been so mad at my parents.

  "Well, I'm glad you came over," Mom says. "Or Alyssa may not have told us about you."

  I roll my eyes. "That's not true. It's just very new, mom."

  "I know, sweetie." She reaches across the coffee table and pats my knee. Then she points at Charles. "As for you, you take care of my girl. She's been through a lot. If you don't, hell hath no fury like a scorned Midwestern housewife."

  I think I'm going to die of embarrassment, but Charles just laughs. "Yes, Ma'am." Then he brings my hand up to his lips, and my embarrassment turns into a warmth that spreads all the way through my stomach.

  * * *

  Charles pulls me against his body at the door. "I really like your parents,” he says, smiling like we share an inside joke.

  "They're embarrassing, but I do love them."

  "I'm serious.” I can feel his fingers drawing circles on my waist and they're very distracting. "I can see where you get your wit, and your sweetness."

  He leans down to kiss me, and I kiss him back. It's a kiss that's leading somewhere I really want to go and can't afford to right now. "Were you really going to take me to Coney Island?"

  "After ripping all your clothes off."

  "I thought so." I kiss him again, and I have to force myself to pull away. "Okay. They're going to think we're a couple of teenagers. I'll see you in the morning."

  "I've never so looked forward to a Monday morning." His face is completely serious, and something in my chest pulses. "'Night."

  I watch him walk down the stairs and out the door. There's a serious feeling swirling around in the pit of my stomach and it's too raw and too real to deal with right now. Not with my parents in the house. So, I decide to do the dishes. My mom is a stickler for real plates even when we have take out, so now there's a pile of dishes in my sink, and I don't want to leave them for after work tomorrow.

  I'm not at all surprised when my mom comes into the kitchen. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  "Honestly, Mom, there isn't a lot to talk about. And I don't want you to scold me."

  She picks up a towel and begins to dry the dishes I've already washed. "Why would you think I'm going to scold you?"

  "Because I've been at the job for less than two weeks and I've already slept with the boss."

  "If that's what you're worried about I'm sure we can find some secretaries who beat that record."

  I laugh in spite of myself.

  "But I wanted to tell you that I like him, and--"

  "And to be careful. I know." I push another plate down under the water a little too forcefully.

  She sighs. "Baby, you have to stop putting words in my mouth."

  I drop the dish and turn to her. "That's not going what you were going to say?"

  "I don't need to tell you to be careful." She finishes drying the glass she's holding and leans back against the counter. "Of course I always told you to be careful, because that's what moms do. But you've always been careful. Even when you were little, you never made a decision unless you were sure. And after everything that happened in California, I honestly expected you to stay there. I thought you would wait until you knew you had a solid option. But you took a chance and moved out here, and I'm so proud."

  "Mom--"

  "Let me finish,” she says, holding out a hand. "My point is that I like Charles. He seems like a good man. It's okay that it's new and it's okay that you're scared, but deep down that little girl I know is waiting until she's absolutely sure."

  There are tears pricking behind my eyes and I don't know where they came from. "Is that so wrong?"

  "Of course not. But I saw the way you looked at each other, and sometimes it's better to be a little less careful." She folds the towel and kisses me on the cheek. "See you in the morning."

  I drain the water from the sink and turn off the lights in the kitchen. With the pile of emotions sitting in front of me, the dishes will have to wait.

  * * *

  The morning comes way too soon, and with it no more clarity than I had last night. However, my mother has a point. If I'm going to give it a shot with Charles, I have to give it a shot. This won't work if I'm only waiting for the moment when it all falls apart.

  I see my parents off on their drive back early, dodging my mother's artful questions. I give my dad a long hug, thankful for his silent support. He took the news about Charles and I in stride. Frankly I think he's relieved I'm with anyone at all. It's been years. But no matter. I'm going to give this a chance, and the ripples of anxiety that have been constantly with me fall quiet. My mother was right--I always wait until I'm sure. I'm sure that I want this. No matter what happens.

  Charles is already in the office when I get there, and we smile at each other. We haven't talked about it, but we both know it's best not to make this public to the company. He comes to the door as I'm settling in. "Morning."

  "Good morning."

  "Did your parents get off all right?"

  I smile and roll my eyes, "Yes. They're driving back to the middle of nowhere as we speak."

  "We should be the ones to surprise them next time."

  "And be dragged around to farmer's markets and dinner at Red Lobster? No thank you."

  He laughs. "Did Robert Jenkins call back last week?"

  "I have left about one-point-five billion messages with his assistant, and the concierge at the hotel. He never returns."

  I see his face darken, and I wonder what's so urgent that he needs to speak to Mr. Jenkins, but I don't think we're at the place where I can ask. "Can you try again? Make sure they know it's urgent."

  "As soon as their office opens I will."

  "Great." He flashes me a smile full of teeth that has nothing to do with work. "Thanks, Alyssa."

  "No problem."

  The rest of the morning in the office is quiet, and normal. I find it easier to focus on work than I did before when I was distracted by the sound of Charles' voice. I'm still distracted by it, but now I can live wi
th it, because I know the promise it holds for after work.

  It's early afternoon when I hear Charles shout, "YES!"

  I jump, ruining the note I was writing. I go into the office and shut the door behind me. "What's going on?"

  "Heely International officially offered. They're willing to finance three new hotels. We're moving to negotiations." He moves around the desk and grabs me, swinging me around and kissing me. "Charles that's amazing. Where will they be?"

  "Don't know yet. That's all apart of the deal yet. The important thing is that they said yes. I was worried when they didn't get back to me last week."

  "Didn't you know you had no reason to worry?" I ask. "I mean, I rocked giving that flash drive to the print shop. There was no way you could lose."

  He chuckles and slides his hands down to my ass, pulling all of me against him. "It's true. I couldn't have done it without you."

  An idea enters my head, and a smile creeps across my face because I know that he won't be able to say no. And that he's rubbing off on me a little. "There are many things you can't do without me,” I say, to clarify. "Like celebrate properly."

  His body goes still, and his lightness is replaced by power. "A dangerous suggestion." He sits down in his chair.

  I lean against his desk, enjoying being able to look down at him for once. I watch as his eyes go dark with possibilities, and I wait. He's watching me like a hunter, and I tighten my fingers on the edge of the desk. Just being looked at me by him turns me on. There's nothing he would say that I wouldn't do.

  The longer he stares, the more aware I am of how in control he is, and he hasn't even said a word. The thought sends the air out of my lungs. I see when the command comes into his eyes, and I shiver. "Get on your knees."

  I do, fitting my legs back under his desk, already sensing the second command before it comes. I reach for him, undoing his pants and pulling out his already very hard cock. I run my hands up and down his length, stroking him and feel him get even harder under my touch. I keep my hands on him, always moving, tracing his veins while I wait. I give him a slow smile. Just because he's the one who's in control doesn't mean I don't want this, and I plan on it being just as amazing for him as it was for me.

 

‹ Prev