by Ivy Carter
A soft knock on my door jars me from my thoughts. In the aftermath of the phone call, I forgot I told Emme to come to me.
Shit. I’m so out of that mindset now. But that isn’t her fault. I can still give her pleasure, even if I’m struggling with my own personal issues.
“Come in,” I say. I school my expression to make sure my rampant negative emotions aren’t leaking through. She doesn’t need to be dragged into that shit.
She opens the door and closes it behind her, a handful of papers clutched in her fist. I hear the click of the lock behind her and give a genuine smile for the first time since I came in here. Making Emme come as hard as she can is suddenly the only thing I want to think about. It will be my mission, something I can do that takes me out of the bad memories, the betrayals, the hard feelings that have calcified around whatever’s left of my heart.
I rise from my seat and stride toward her, my eyes absorbing the sight of her hips in the black skirt, the form-fitting thin purple dress shirt. The urge to kiss her and lose myself in her is so strong I have to fight it back. But this isn’t about me—it’s about her. This innocent, sexy and spirited woman who’s occupied my thoughts far too much lately.
“Have a seat at my desk,” I say in a smooth voice.
Her lips part slightly and I see her breath hitch. She nods and moves over there, pulling herself up against the desk.
I grab the documents and scroll through them, highlighting three entries. I hand the papers back. “I need you to call these companies on my behalf to schedule initial evaluation appointments with them. I’ve already met them in person, so they know to expect these calls.” I step toward her, peering down into those wide green eyes, fixed on me.
Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. She isn’t sure what I’m doing; I have her off balance, a little nervous. But she stares at me with a trusting gaze, and I feel a large chunk of the numbing ice chip away from my heart.
She closes her eyes for just a second, draws a deep breath and exhales, then picks up my phone. As she dials, I maneuver the chair to have her facing me instead of the desk, keeping my hands clenched on the chair arms. She blinks in surprise but doesn’t stop her task.
“Hello, may I speak to Mr. Dieter please?” she asks in her consummate professional voice. “Sure, I can hold.”
Is Emme ready to take our game to the next level? I want—no, I need—to push her boundaries, to have her aroused and wet and craving me. I’ll give her something to write about in her diary. A fucking intense experience she’ll never forget.
“Stay focused,” I order her in a rough, thick voice. My cock twitches to life at the thought of what I’m about to do, and blood rushes to my veins, breaking apart the last of the numbness. All the tension has gone, and my need has roared back to the surface of my skin, lighting me up.
I can smell her aroused response to my command, a soft, feminine musk that makes my cock so hard it hurts. She’s staring at me, pupils dilated, breasts rising and falling with her panting breath, nipples erect and begging to be touched.
I drop to my knees, my chest between her parted bare thighs, and shove her skirt up to her waist.
THE END OF BOOK 1
Boss Me Hard (Boss Me, Book Two)
Emme
Oh, God. My belly is a tight knot of desire, and my thighs are trembling. The phone is gripped tightly in my hand as I wait for Mr. Dieter to pick up his line. How the hell am I supposed to focus on making these calls when Dane’s eyes are locked on the apex of my thighs, the thin fabric of my panties bared to him?
This is crazy. This can’t really be happening. I wanted this for so long, but now that it’s actually happening, I pray I can handle it.
Handle Dane in the flesh.
“Hello?” Mr. Dieter says in a strong German accent.
I close my eyes to the intensity on Dane’s face and try to focus on the call. I need to get through this. “Hello, sir, this is Emme Williams. I’m calling you on behalf of Dane Rossi of Rossi Design. He asked me…” I swallow hard as I feel Dane’s fingers slide along my inner thighs. My sex tightens and throbs painfully. “Um. He asked me to make an appointment with you, so I wanted to see when you were free.” My words are barely more than air.
Thankfully, Mr. Dieter doesn’t seem to notice. “Oh, yes, let me check my calendar. Hold on a minute, please.”
“Look at me,” Dane orders in a rough voice. “Don’t close your eyes.”
I do as he asks and watch him as his thumb brushes the fabric over my clit, and I give an involuntary shudder. His gaze remains locked on me, and the intensity pouring off him is heady, dizzying.
His thumb slides aside the fabric and he presses into my feminine folds. A low moan begs to be released, but I hold it in.
“Okay, I’m back,” Mr. Dieter says. “I have time next Friday if he’s available.”
I flick my attention toward the printout of the calendar I brought with me, a shudder wracking my body when his fingers slide along my slit. Oh God, oh God, how am I supposed to concentrate when I just want to sink into this feeling?
“He, uh, he’s free…” When Dane’s digit glides into my dripping wetness, my hips buck toward him of their own volition. Get through this, I order myself. “One-thirty?” I manage to say.
My thoughts are racing. I still can’t believe this is real. My fantasies have sprung to life and the reality is far better than I could have ever imagined. But part of me is still in shock, even as my body is busy reacting to what he’s doing to me.
Dane’s finger curls to stroke my inner G-spot, and it’s so hard to not close my eyes. My nipples are hard buttons straining against my bra. There’s a little smirk curling the corners of his mouth that makes me hotter. He knows he’s driving me insane, is reveling in it, and that just turns me on more.
“Can we make it two?” Mr. Dieter asks.
“Yes. Yes, that’s—yes, that’s fine,” I gasp as my orgasm begins to build.
Dane raises a brow at me, knowing that little slip almost gave me away. I swallow and try to pull myself together. I can do this. It’s fine.
Then he tugs my hips to the very edge of the chair and presses a hot kiss to my clit, and I almost lose it.
“Okay, I will see Mr. Rossi at two,” Mr. Dieter says.
“Sounds good. Goodbye,” I say with a slight tremor, then hang up the phone just in time for a soft moan to rip from my throat. “That feels amazing,” I tell him as his tongue sweeps up and down my lower lips, plunges between them.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans, digging his fingers into my hips as he eats me harder. Watching him savor my essence, the way he laps up every drop of juice, causes my body to shake uncontrollably.
I reach down and curl fingers into the nape of his neck, pressing him closer. He moves one hand to between my thighs to resume fingering me. This is what I fantasized about for so long. And it’s unbelievably intense.
Then he stops and pulls his mouth away. “Next call.” His voice is little more than a guttural growl at this point.
Oh, shit, right. The phone calls. He’s seriously going to make me talk to two more people? This is insanity.
But the hard look in his eyes shows me how serious he is about it. So I draw in a steadying lungful of air and nod. Try not to react too violently when his mouth resumes licking me, sucking me, sliding along my dampness.
My fingers fumble twice when I try to dial the next number. On the third try, I get it right. My sex contracts at the stroke of his two fingers inside me, pumping hard. I arch my back, thrusting my breasts into the air, and slide my fingers through his hair. I am wanton, brazen, unable to do anything more than everything he bids of me.
“Wallace Associates,” a clipped male voice says.
My inner walls begin to clench around his fingers as the wave grows stronger. I’m so wet, I know his face must be coated by now. But he hasn’t stopped the onslaught.
“Um. Yes. May I speak to Mr. Wallace?” I ask in what I hope
sounds like an even tone. At this point, I’m so dizzy and burning up on the inside that I don’t know what’s up or down anymore. I catch a groan right as it starts to slip from my mouth.
Dane’s eyes dart up to mine and slit in warning. He heard it. Shit.
There’s a pause, and my heart stops. “Are you okay?” the man asks me.
“Yes, sure, sorry.” My brain scrambles for an excuse. “I…spilled a bit of coffee on my lap.”
That earns another smirk from Dane, who turns back to devouring me. I bite my lower lip, determined to not make another mistake.
“Mr. Wallace is out of the office right now, but I’d be happy to take a message and have him return your call.”
Thank God. I spit out, “I’m Emma Williams, calling on behalf…of Rossi Design…to make an appointment with Dane Rossi.” Okay, not quite making sense now, but at least I’m still forming semi-coherent words. I have no idea how much longer I can keep this up. I grind out the phone number for Mr. Wallace to call me back and hang up as quickly as possible.
When the phone hits the cradle, Dane’s fingers fuck me harder, and I can hear my juices from the thrusts. With his other hand, he unbuttons my blouse and reaches up to slip a hand in my shirt and cradle my breast. The tenderness of that touch, combined with the onslaught on my sex, almost undoes me right then.
“You’re so sexy,” he says as he looks at me. “So responsive.” He looks back down at my exposed sex. “And that pussy is beautiful. I want to eat you for hours.”
“Your fingers feel so good,” I admit in a throaty tone. “I’m getting close.” Before he can remind me again to stay focused, I scramble to find the third number. But I so badly want to give in to the orgasm threatening to rip me in two.
Just watching my boss taking me the way I always hoped for, his muscular shoulders tensing as he moves, that perfect face so close to my bare pussy…it’s making me want to come. Right now.
Dane’s savvy hand squeezes and kneads my breast, his thumb plucking at my nipple. “Fuck, your tits feel amazing, Emme,” he breathes into my crotch, and I shudder again at the sensation of his hot breath caressing me. “I want you to come for me. Hard. I need to see that orgasm all over your face.”
I manage a shaky nod and dial the third number. The line seems to ring forever, the sound echoing in my ears as I find myself sliding dangerously into losing my mind from his touch.
“Hello, thank you for calling Mordecai Financial Associates. How can I direct your call?”
“I need…” I need to come so badly I want to scream. “Miss Mordecai.” I’m losing my grip. My words are coming out choppier than I intend them to sound, and Dane’s gaze darts up to me. I blink and try my best to not thrust my hips against his face the way I want to. “I need to speak to Miss Mordecai—I’m calling on behalf of Rossi Design.” There, better.
“Okay, let me connect you through to her.”
My breasts are heavy and swollen, and I reach my hand down to caress my nipple. Dane’s pupils dilate at the sight, and I can see his chest rising and falling faster.
He’s turned on. I mean, I knew he was of course, but seeing this little sign of his arousal so evident helps me feel a surge of power. I feel a little less off kilter.
I’m going to do this. I want to drive him crazy, want him to crave me the way I crave him. And I want to touch him so badly. But first I need to finish this last call.
“Hello?” a husky female voice says. “This is Evelyn.”
“Hi, this is Emme Williams,” I say, proud of how steady my voice is. I let my hand slide down to stroke Dane’s strong shoulder, kneading my thumbs into the hollow of his collarbone. He sighs and presses closer to my lower lips, and his tongue swirls in a heady pattern that brings me right to the edge.
Shit, I’m going to come, and I don’t think I can hold it off anymore.
“I’m…calling to make…” Oh God, right there, yes… “Appointment with Dane Rossi.”
“Who?”
Damn it. I can’t think. My eyes nearly cross and I arch my back as the tingle spreads from my throbbing clit through my pelvis. “Dane Rossi of…Rossi Design, the interior décor and renovation firm.”
Dane can clearly see me about to fall apart, which seems to only make him work harder, his expert fingers rubbing me on the inside and his tongue rubbing me on the outside.
A moment later, my body erupts into a volcanic blast of sensation, every nerve ending firing on full blast, tingling me from head to toe. I bite my lip to keep from spilling out the scream that is so desperate to escape from this intense orgasm. I can’t stop the way my body shakes, how my thighs clench his head to keep him pinned against me.
I can hear Evelyn speaking on the other end but the noise in my head is too loud for me to pick up on what she’s saying at first. “—free in two weeks or so, since I’m going on vacation,” leaks through my consciousness. “I can call him back when I return.”
The pulse in my pelvis pounds with my heartbeat, and I struggle to grab air into my shrunken lungs. “That…should be fine. Do you need his number?”
“I believe I might have his business card,” she says. I hear a riffling sound on the other end, then, “Yes, here it is. We’re good.”
The orgasm fades away, leaving me limp and tired and thoroughly satisfied. Dane presses one last kiss to my fluttering, soaked crotch then stands and strokes a lock of damp hair from my brow. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten sweaty, so caught up in what was happening. The emotions pouring from his brown eyes, the pride and arousal and something indescribable but warm, make my heart give a funny squeeze. I blink and try to shake back the strange emotion surging in me. Probably due to the intensity of what I just experienced. “We look forward to hearing from you soon,” I tell her, then hang up.
I stand too, pushing my skirt back down my thighs, and we pause for a long moment just staring at each other, chests rising and falling in synchronized breathing. I want to say so much, but my tongue is tangled in the words. Does he feel this thing, this link between us, the way I do? I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
“That was incredible,” I finally manage to murmur. I feel a light flush crawl over my cheeks. I can’t believe that I’m embarrassed right now, after the things he just did to my body. “Um. Can I… Do you…” I take a step forward and brush my fingertips down his firm chest.
With a gentle smile, he cups my wrists before I reach his waistband and lowers my hands to my sides, not letting them go. “This was about you,” he says. “Not about me.”
But it is about him. About the way I ache to pleasure him. I open my mouth to protest, but he drops a hard kiss to my lips, stealing the words from me. I can taste myself on his lips, and that makes my lower belly flutter.
“Later,” he says, with such dark promise loaded in the word I can’t help but shiver. This is really going to happen again between us, and the anticipation might just kill me. Dane steps back and hands me the papers. “We have plenty of time to explore. I want to take my time with you.”
I nod and smooth my skirt, button my blouse, run a hand over my hair. I head to his door and open it, shooting a quick glance over my shoulder before I exit.
Dane’s already behind his desk, phone in his hand, dialing a number. But his eyes are still on my form up to the second I close the door.
“Kevin Bacon was so hot in the eighties,” Sidney declares as she devours another massive spoonful of chocolate ice cream. She curls her legs up under her on the couch and settles back into the corner.
“This is one of my favorite movies,” I say as I pop in Footloose, then settle into the chair, blanket draped over me.
“I’m really glad you invited me over.” Sidney’s smile is broad. “Since Michael’s spending the night at a friend’s house, I was just gonna study alone tonight. Living the wild life, I am.”
I shake my head in mock consternation. “Yeah, that’s no way to spend a Saturday.”
On impulse, I texted Si
dney last night to see if she wanted to hang out with me sometime this weekend. She agreed, so here we are, at nine on a weekend night, gearing up to watch a chick flick. Robert’s in bed; he complained earlier that he had a headache, and I sent him right in there with two ibuprofen and a cool washcloth. I make a mental note to go check on him soon.
As the credits come on, I jump out of my chair. “I forgot the wine.”
“Travesty!” Sidney jokes.
I snort as I pop open the bottle and pour two full glasses of cheap red wine. “We can’t have that, not in the Williams household. What kind of host would I be?” I sidle back to the living room and hand her a glass, putting the bottle on the coffee table.
The movie is cheesy fun, and I find myself laughing along with Sidney at the eighties teenage drama. But a part of me can’t stop thinking about Dane, hasn’t stopped thinking about him since the incident in his office. Wondering what is going to happen next.
Should I wait for him to do something else? Or should I try to take the reins and show him how badly I want to taste him too?
“You okay over there?” Sidney asks, jarring me out of my thoughts.
I take a gulp of wine, wincing at the bite of tannins. “Yeah, sure, why?”
She smirks. “Because you’re awful breathy over a dance montage, so I figured you were somewhere else.”
My heart jumps in embarrassment. “Sorry. I’m here, I promise. I just… You know how it is when sometimes stuff rattles around in your head, and you can’t stop thinking about it even when you want to?”
“Anything you wanna talk about?”
I shake my head. “No, really, it’s fine.”
“I’m sure it is. Or rather, he is.”
I guess I’m not very subtle. I grimace and take another gulp. “It’s…kind of a tricky situation. Hard to explain.”
“Try me. I’m a good listener.” Her eyes shine with sincerity. “Seriously, it would be think about something other than my own terrible dating drama for a while. I’ve had a series of bad first dates recently, and I’d rather focus on someone else’s love life.”
