Hating My New Boss

by B. B. Hamel

  Instead, all I want whenever I’m around him is that fantasy. I want him to fuck me, rough and mean, slap my ass, grab my throat, pull my hair. I want him to throw me around and take my body, use me however he wants, make me beg.

  “I can’t,” I say softly.

  Blair turns away. “Then this is over.”

  “Wait.” Justin steps toward me. “Remi, you have to do it. Think about how big this can be, for both of us.”

  I look at him and he stares back, his handsome eyes locked into mine. I know he needs it, and I think I can see a hint of the desire I’ve been seeing in his expression. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he’s always moving closer to me. I can feel it between us, humming and mute but ready to take hold.

  “Fine,” I say finally. “But we better fly first class. Hawaii’s far away.”

  Blair claps once, and it startles me. She does that strange smile again.

  “Very good,” she says. “You two will stay at my compound and work very hard, and become as one.” She leaves the conference room, flowing out like smoke. I look at Justin and he just shrugs.

  “I don’t know what that means, but we’re doing it,” he says softly.

  “Yeah,” I respond. “Although it’ll probably be a disaster.”

  “Think you can keep from killing me?”

  “Probably not.” I grin at him when he laughs.

  “All right. Better show her out. Are you sure you want to go?”

  “Not at all,” I say.

  “Me neither. Let’s try and make it fun.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  He turns and leaves, following Blair back out to the lobby, and I’m left wondering what the heck I just got myself into.

  12

  Justin

  Twenty-four hours later and we’re on a cross-country flight bound for Hawaii, flying first class courtesy of Spine’s marketing budget.

  Blair’s not on our flight, of course. She’s flying private. I can picture her riding on the back of a broomstick, a black cat perched on her shoulder as she cackles the whole way. The reality is probably more boring.

  I glance to my left and catch Remi eyeing me. She looks away and I smile at her, leaning over across the seat. “Having a good flight?”

  “We’ve been in the air for ten minutes,” she says.

  “Yeah, true. But first class…” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

  She laughs a little bit despite herself. “Only twelve more hours to go.”

  “We’ll get a break at LAX.”

  “Oh, yay. We get to spend time in LAX, I’m sure it’ll be super relaxing.”

  I grin at her and lean back in my chair. “Better get comfy then,” I say to her. “You’re in for a long, shitty day.”

  She sighs and we lapse into silence. I grab a book from my bag while she pulls out her Kindle. I try glancing at what she’s reading but I can’t make it out as she flips through the pages.

  I bet it’s some dirty romance novel about fucking her boss or something. I smile to myself, trying to engage with my own book about Roger Bannister breaking the four-minute mile for the first time, but I can’t really concentrate.

  I keep glancing at Remi’s legs in her shorts, at her lips pursed slightly as she reads, at her body nestled in her first-class seat. We pass a couple hours like that in silence before I lose patience and ask the stewardess for a drink.

  Remi raises an eyebrow as I sip on my vodka and tonic. “Drinking already? Really?”

  “Really,” I say. “What else do we have to do? We’re stuck in this giant metal Twinkie, just trusting in the laws of physics and the skill of our pilots. Might as well drink.”

  She arches an eyebrow. “You’re not a nervous flier, are you?”

  “Guilty.” I drink half of it down in one gulp.

  “I never would’ve pegged you as afraid to fly.”

  “I’m not afraid, exactly,” I say. “I’m just intensely aware of what flying actually means, and I fucking hate it.”

  “Sounds like scared to me.”

  I laugh a little and lean toward her. “Okay then, big shot. I’m afraid of flying. What are you afraid of?”

  “My boss being my age.”

  “Ouch.”

  “You’re my worst nightmare.”

  “I probably am.”

  “But not in the way you’re thinking.”

  “What way am I thinking?”

  She hesitates. “I shouldn’t say.”

  “Sure you should.” I lean closer to her and she doesn’t lean away. “Are you thinking of the time I kissed you last week?”

  I say that last part softly, almost right in her ear. I watch as she reacts with her entire body. She stiffens, but she doesn’t pull away, and I can tell she’s tense and wrestling with something.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I laugh softly. “You don’t remember when I kissed you and you kissed me back?”

  “I did not kiss you back.”

  “You absolutely did. I think I even heard a little moan.”

  “I didn’t moan.” She leans toward me sharply, eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not.”

  “Defensive. I think you really liked it, didn’t you?”

  “You shouldn’t have kissed me,” she says. “You’re my boss, remember?”

  “I remember. I think about it all the time.”

  “About what?”

  “About being your boss. Ordering you into my office, stripping off your clothes…” I trail off, speaking softly. She doesn’t pull away but her breath is coming faster. “I think about making you taste my cock, making you swallow my cu. I think about burying my tongue between your legs until you scream my name and I taste your orgasm.”

  “Stop.” The word comes out strangled, almost choked. “I get it.”

  “You do?” I smile and I want to kiss her neck so badly it almost hurts. She tilts her head toward me. “I think you’ve been picturing it, too.”

  “No.” She looks away from me though, not meeting my eyes.

  “You really have.” I can’t help but laugh softly. “You dirty girl. You want to get fucked by your boss.”

  “No,” she says again. “Not at all. You asshole.”

  “I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering if you can handle being on a flight with me right now, and you know what?” I smirk and lean back. “It doesn’t matter, because you’re stuck with me.”

  She rolls her eyes and looks away. “Just don’t be an asshole and we’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I watch her squirm for a second longer before picking up my book and starting to read again.

  This time, I can concentrate just fine.

  13

  Remi

  I’m so annoyed with myself. I keep glancing at Justin for the rest of the flight, wondering when he’ll drag me into the first-class bathroom and fuck my brains out.

  He doesn’t, of course. I keep sending him “fuck off” signals, although they don’t really seem to bother him too much. Mostly he just reads and drinks, and eventually falls asleep.

  I get a nap in, but the flight’s miserable. I get up to stretch my legs countless times but it doesn’t seem to help. I hate being trapped on this stupid plane.

  The layover in LAX isn’t much better. It’s an ugly, crowded airport, and Justin spends most of the time eating and having another beer.

  I’m miserable. I hate traveling and I especially hate traveling with this cocky asshole. He thinks he can say whatever he wants to me, flirt with me mercilessly, tease me into anger, and still get away with it. He’s my boss, he should be handling himself better than this.

  But he doesn’t seem to care, and so I’m left feeling frustrated, because mostly I want him to touch my body and calm me down.

  It’s a mess of emotions, but at least the second flight isn’t too bad. We’re back in first class, sitting side by side again, but it doesn’t last as long. It feels like as soon as we get up into the
air we’re already starting our descent into Honolulu.

  “What do you think?” Justin leans over me and lifts the window shade. This flight, I let him have the aisle seat.

  “It’s nice.” I look down at Hawaii, surrounded by water and getting closer.

  “Nice?” He laughs softly. “It’s fucking beautiful.”

  He’s not wrong. As we get closer, I can see what he means. It’s a little paradise in the middle of the ocean, developed but still wild.

  “This doesn’t seem like the kind of place Blair would set up shop,” I say.

  “There’s more to Blair than I think we realize.”

  “I think you’re right about that.”

  “Plus, even she can see how beautiful this place is.” I can feel his breath on my neck and I glance back at him.

  “Okay, I get it. You love Hawaii.”

  “I just want you to be excited.”

  “I’m excited. Oh, so excited.”

  “Come on.” He leans back into his chair, head still turned toward me. “You really think this is going to be that bad?”

  I chew my lip and start twisting my hair before I realize that he knows what it means. I force myself to stop and take a breath.

  “No,” I finally admit. “It might even be fun.”

  He grins. “Perfect.”

  “But this doesn’t change anything,” I say quickly. “As soon as we’re back home, things go back to normal.”

  “Okay,” he answers. “If you can make that happen, I’ll play along.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m serious.”

  “I’m serious too.” He leans closer again, his face inches from mine. “If you still want to hate me after this trip, I won’t try and change your mind.”

  “What makes you think anything’s going to change?”

  “I know you, Remi,” he says softly. “It’s been a long time, but you haven’t changed at all.”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “No, you haven’t.” He reaches out, tipping my chin toward him. My heart starts racing as his lips come closer.

  The seatbelt sound dings, and the captain’s voice comes on over the intercom, announcing our descent. Justin stops, so close to me, and I’m breathing so fast. His eyes lock into mine but he slowly moves away, stopping the kiss before it even starts.

  As we land in paradise, I can practically feel his lips against mine, lingering where I really want them.

  14

  Justin

  I don’t know what to expect from Blair’s compound, but it’s even more insane than I ever could’ve imagined.

  We get off the plane in Honolulu and there’s a driver waiting for us, this Australian guy named Rick. He’s all big smiles and carries Remi’s bags slung over one shoulder.

  We jam ourselves and our luggage into an old, beat-up Jeep. “Don’t mind the ride,” Rick says. “Necessary, for where we’re going.”

  I glance at Remi. “Where are we going?” I ask.

  Rick grins at me. “Not skittish, are we?”

  “No, I’m not skittish,” I say, grinding my teeth. Remi’s grinning, loving this. “I’m just curious.”

  “Don’t worry, mate, you’re in good hands.”

  Rick peels out into traffic, and I have to hang on for dear life or else spill out onto the fucking pavement.

  Remi finally looks about as concerned as I feel as we haul ass through Honolulu. We don’t get much of a tour as Rick yells nearly indecipherable stuff over his shoulder, pointing at random buildings and roads. Remi just shrugs her shoulders, shaking her head, the wind whipping in her hair.

  We pull out of Honolulu, away from the city. We’re driving toward the interior of the island, away from city lights and sounds. Civilization gets sparser and the jungle thickens. Rick’s driving doesn’t slow down one bit as we slowly transition from pavement to dirt roads.

  We wind our way through two big mountains, weaving along a treacherous path. Rick drives like he’s done this a million times but I can tell Remi’s about to freak out. I put my hand on her leg to steady her as we fly around a blind corner, the engine revving and the tires spinning.

  Remi clutches my hand, and even though Rick straightens the Jeep out and slows down a bit, she doesn’t let go. We hold hands for the rest of the drive as we pass through more jungle, up a relatively steep climb, and back down into the center of what seems to be some kind of crater.

  Blair’s compound is right in the center. “Finished it a few years ago,” Rick says as we pull up to what I can only describe as a Soviet-style brutalist building. It’s all concrete and harsh lines, and it doesn’t look like it belongs in the freaking jungles of paradise at all.

  “She owns all this?” I ask him.

  “Sure does. Bought it for some stupid amount of money. Apparently, we’re in the middle of an old, dead caldera, but if it ever wakes up and blows…” He trails off and shrugs. “I wouldn’t worry about that, though.”

  Remi squeezes my hand. I can’t help but smile.

  Rick parks the Jeep outside the front door and we slowly climb out. Remi comes to her senses and releases my hand just before Rick can notice. I can feel her sweat still drying on my palm as we head into the building.

  It’s practically a maze, and right away I can tell that whoever designed this building is certifiably insane. “You’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Rick says, following hallways that twist, turn, and end randomly. We step through a few doors and pass a few other open ones. The noise of people talking and moving is all around us, but we don’t see a single other living soul.

  It’s spooky as hell. I’m positive that Blair did all this herself.

  We step through a pair of double doors with lions carved onto the handles. Rick glances back at me. “This is the residential wing,” he says. “You two will probably spend most of your time here, if you’re lucky.”

  I glance at Remi. She gives me a weird, uncomfortable smile. Lucky? she mouths, and I just shrug.

  We step into a carpeted section of the building. It looks a lot like a midrange hotel, actually, with almost generic and inoffensive décor. The rug is patterned and everything is vaguely modern, but still somehow cheap, with a layer of slime that’ll probably never come off, unless there’s a nuclear holocaust. Even then, probably not.

  We follow Rick through a much more orderly set of halls before we finally stop outside of a pair of doors. He bustles around in his pockets before producing two keys, one of which he hands to Remi, and the other he plops into my palm.

  “These are your rooms,” he says, “101 and 102, nice and simple.” He gestures back the way we came. “Don’t go back through that double door without an escort.”

  “We aren’t allowed in there?” I ask him, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea that there are places we can’t go in here.

  “No,” he says with a laugh. “You’ll just get lost as hell and the engineers hate having to help people find their way. You don’t wanna mess with the engineers here, mate. They’re the real stars.” He rocks back on his heels, arms crossed. “Anyway, head that way to the mess, that way to the gym, and that way to the lounge.”

  “When will we see Blair?” Remi asks him.

  “Soon,” he says, looking at his watch. “She wants dinner with you two. Get settled and you’ll see her soon.”

  “Thanks,” she says, and he nods.

  “Need anything, just dial 555 on the phone in your room and someone will help. Blair’s pulling out all the stops for you folks, full service and alla that. Have a nice stay, I s’pose.” He gives us a nod, turns, and stalks back the way we came.

  I’m standing there, not sure what to make of this. “Are we in hell?” I ask Remi vaguely.

  “I think so. I mean… who lives in a labyrinth with a weird hotel in the center?”

  “Crazy people,” I say seriously, meeting her gaze. I break into a huge grin. “This is gonna be fun.”

  She sighs and unlocks her door. “We’ll see.” She
disappears inside and leaves me standing there in the hallway, staring at the floor.

  I don’t know what to expect, but I can’t stop smiling. We’re in the middle of the minotaur’s lair, stuck together against all odds. If there exists anywhere in the world a better place to show Remi that I’m not the monster she thinks I am, I can’t think of it.

  I slip into my room, where my bags are mysteriously already waiting for me. I guess someone took a shortcut to get here first, which I tuck away into the back of my mind for later.

  I strip down, shower, and get changed. When I’m done, just as I’m getting settled on the bed, there’s a knock at the door. I glance at my watch. Only a half hour has passed since Rick left, although it’s a little after six.

  I sigh and get up. Standing outside is a short woman with tiny eyes and pale skin. She’s wearing what I can only describe as a porter’s outfit from the ‘20s. It’s like she’s an actual bellhop from an old-timey hotel.

  “Hi,” I say to her.

  “Blair requests your presence,” she says. I notice Remi is standing in the hallway behind her and just gives me a shrug.

  “Don’t want to keep her waiting.” I follow the little porter, falling in line next to Remi. This time, our path is more straightforward, sticking to the hotel-like decor of the residential wing. We pass a few other people that all smile and nod, which is almost disconcerting. Finally, the bellhop takes us through a side door and we step into what looks like a great hall from a Viking’s longhouse.

  It’s completely bizarre. I can’t describe or image how jolting it is to be walking through a modern hotel and suddenly step into a medieval Viking’s hall. Blair’s sitting at the head of the table and stands as we approach.

  “Welcome to Spine,” she says.

  “Hi, Blair,” Remi replies, coming around to the table to kiss her gingerly on the cheek. Blair flinches slightly, but doesn’t pull away.

  “What do you think?” Blair asks as we sit down, Remi on her left, and I take her right.