Just Pretend

by Juliana Conners

  "You sure know how to take your boss's cock," I tell her. "Remember when you crawled to me in the filing room, and took my cock in your mouth and sucked on it?"

  She nods, and I pull her hair to hold her head back so that all she can do is look in my eyes as I tell her how much I love the naughty things she's done to me.

  "You sucked my cock right there where anyone could walk in and see us," I remind her. She nods up at me again. "And then you let me tie you up and have my way with you. Just like you're doing now. And like you'll always do."

  She hums and it sounds like she's trying to say, "Always, Boss."

  I didn't tell her to say that. It wasn't on my approved list of things she can say. So, I hit her again, on her red, welted ass, until she squirms and squeals. But I still like that she tried to say it.

  I thrust myself into her a few more times until I can tell I'm going to come. She moans, letting me know she's coming along with me.

  "I'm coming in your pussy," I tell her. "I'm filling you up with my cum."

  We groan together and she leans over with her hands still against the wall, steadying herself as I take my cock out of her pussy.

  "Your juices are dripping all over my cock, and my cum is running down your legs," I tell her. I spread open her pussy wide so that I can see the load I shot inside her.

  "I don't want you to clean it up," I tell her. "I want you to leave the evidence of me claiming you on our wedding day, while we dance and thank our guests for coming."

  I remove the ball gag and she finally says, "Yes, Boss."

  I smile. I know that Damien has something going on with Katie from the filing room. Apparently, it's trendy now for older men to get with younger women. But there's no one like my Ruby. They can only try to recreate what we have.

  I unchain Ruby and she walks over to where I had put her wedding dress. I help her put it on and then I look down at her as she gazes up at me.

  "I love you, Ruby Sanchez," I tell her, so proud to have made her my wife. So excited to go show her off to the world.

  "I love you too, Husband," she says.

  As I bend down to kiss her, I wonder how long it will be until she's carrying my child. The thought both scares and excites me at the same time.

  I hold out my hand and say, "Are you ready to join the world again? At least until the next time we can sneak off and fuck some more?"

  "Yes, Boss," she says, as she takes my arm.

  As we walk up to daylight and outside to the beautiful view stretched out before us as far as we can see, I ask her,

  "Do you think we'll live happily ever after?"

  She nods her head. I used to feel cheesy for thinking I could see the sunset in her eyes but now I really do.

  "Please, Boss."

  THE END.

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  More, Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance (Always, Boss Book # 3)

  Copyright 2017 by Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Swann Song Books.

  Cover Design by ReddHott Covers.

  This book is a work of fiction and any similarities to real places, people or events are entirely coincidental. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format except for short quotes for review purposes, without the express written consent of the author.

  ***

  For Matt, for everything you do for me, and more.

  Chapter 1 – Katie

  It’s 4:20, so that means I’m on a break from work at my job as a legal assistant at the law firm of Marks, Sanchez and Reed. Lately though, I’ve been thinking they should rename themselves Sugar Daddy Central.

  I swear the law office has turned into a real life Match.com for older lawyers and their younger subordinates. First, Asher Marks hooked up with the new associate Madilyn. That part wasn’t surprising because Asher Marks hooks up with a new associate every year.

  What was surprising is that he proposed marriage to her. No one ever thought Asher would settle down and get engaged. Then I found out that Asher’s co-founding partner Cameron Sanchez— whom everyone calls Ron— is officially getting it on with my friend and fellow secretary Ruby.

  Apparently, some girls can’t walk into their boss’ offices without lifting up their skirt and tempting them with the goods. And some bosses can’t resist bending their secretaries over their desk and having their way with them.

  This thought might sound judgmental but I think it with love, because both Madilyn and Ruby rock. But what the ever-loving fuck has gotten into younger girls around my age?

  Sure, Madilyn is twenty-five and has a law degree— but that’s still much closer to my age than her fiancé Asher, who is old enough to be her father. And Ruby is close to me in age— she’s twenty years old.

  Are there no more young knights in shining armor? They’re all old and rich?

  I wouldn’t know. I’m not involved with any of that craziness. My only love affair is with books.

  People think I’m just a pothead, but I’m a deep-thinking pothead. My only boyfriends are long-dead authors— such as William Faulkner, whose books I’ve read and re-read too many times to count.

  If you've read one William Faulkner novel, though, you've read them all. They're all the same Southern dysfunctional family bullshit. But I'm drawn to them like moths to a flame even though they're just as dangerous for me.

  Most people read to escape, preferably to some perfect fantasy world, but for some reason I’m compelled to read books that are close to my own reality. Every day I tell myself "No more depressing novels. Try something light! Or at least throw some kinky Nabokov in with your Flannery O'Conner."

  But then most days I pick up the same old tomes full of darkness and sadness, even though they remind me of how bleak and depressing my own life really is, which only makes things worse.

  I can’t forget boring. My own life is really fucking boring. And my job is boring. It feels utterly inconsequential. Or as if I’m inconsequential to anything that goes on in the office.

  I’m so inconsequential that I'm sitting in my car reading The Sound and the Fury and smoking a bowl and no one will even notice I’m gone. I'm sure there are people who judge me for smoking pot. In fact, that's why I'm out here in my car instead of in the file room where I used to smoke it, before the Powers That Be— namely, Asher and Cameron— found my vape pen and assumed it was Ruby’s.

  I guess I can see why they assumed that. With the dyed streaks in her hair and her alternative way of dressing, Ruby looks like the type who would smoke weed. That's part of why I love her. But really, she's as straight laced as they come— or at least she is now.

  The last thing I wanted to do was get Ruby into any trouble. I had to fess up to the vape pen being my dirty little not-so-secret (if anyone besides secretaries— or, in Ruby's case, bosses getting head from secretaries— came into the file room once in a while they'd happen to know what goes on in there).

  I thought I'd get fired and I was prepared for that possibility. It probably wouldn't have been the worst thing that could happen. Maybe it would spur me on to find a better, more stimulating job— since mine is so boring and all.

  It's not that I don't want more responsibility. It's just that no one thinks to give it to me.

  The partner I work for, Jameson “Jim” Reed, is in court all the time and doesn't let me come with him because he has a paralegal assigned to the case. Paralegals can bill time for their hours spent working on litigation whereas lowly secretaries— we're technically called legal assistants nowadays— cannot.

  A lot of legal assistants are assigned to more than one partner but Jim is such a big wig— I jokingly call him a diva— that he demands exclusivity. And since he’s one of the three named partners that helped start the firm— along with Asher and Cameron— I suppose he’s entitled
to make demands. Even if it means I have nothing to do all day.

  When I told Ron that it was my vape pen and not Ruby’s, I didn’t get fired. In fact, it saved Ruby’s job and Ruby and Ron’s relationship. Since it wasn’t Ruby’s vape pen, she could come back to the firm. And since I have a medical card, Ron really didn’t know what to do with me, so he did nothing.

  I think Ron felt so grateful to me for that that he would have promoted me to office manager. But he was still a little worried about what he viewed as my pot problem.

  I explained to him that medical marijuana helps me with my anxiety and ADHD. I also told him I wouldn’t sue him for his violation of my HIPAA rights by asking about my disability and my medications.

  So, he said he doesn’t care as long as I don’t smoke it in the office. Now I take my breaks in my car.

  First I have to walk by all the secretaries standing outside smoking their cigarettes, which are a lot more dangerous than my vape pen, even if Ron and the other partners don’t see it that way yet. They just haven’t caught up with the times. One day they’ll realize they should be vaping too. Everyone should be, if you ask me.

  As I’m staring at the secretaries who are gathered just outside the door of the main entrance to our building, wondering if I should go give them my advice about switching from tobacco to marijuana— although I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate my little tip— someone catches my eye. How could he not?

  This guy is hot. So hot that he makes me wet just by looking at him. I want to find out where he’s going and how I can go there too.

  Chapter 2 – Katie

  The guy entering the building is the proverbial tall, kind of dark and handsome figure that one reads about in books or watches on TV. He really could be a movie star, if he were assigned to the role of a serious-looking yet handsome banker or lawyer.

  He carries himself— as he walks through the doors of the building— with charm and grace. He has dark blonde hair, tan skin that looks like he spends a lot of time outside, and a fit, muscular body type. I’m sure he catches every woman’s eye.

  In fact, all the smoking secretaries turn their heads away from their cigarettes and stop their chatter to look at him. Then they turn back towards each other with widened eyes and begin chatting again, undoubtedly about him.

  I allow a momentary fantasy to slip into my thoughts, drowning out the depressing thoughts lingering there from Faulkner’s book.

  What if this handsome man is headed to the law firm where I work? He’s wearing a business suit and looks like he’s on official business.

  What if I could get in on this older man, younger woman trend that seems to be affecting my office like the plague?

  If Ruby thinks it’s hot, maybe it is. And Madilyn is a smart, ambitious lawyer who hooked up with her boss and got a huge diamond ring out of the deal.

  I don’t want to get married, though. Marriage is for suckers. I don’t even believe in commitment.

  Even though everyone thinks I’m some kind of badass, I’ve never even had sex. Most of the time I don’t even want to. From what I’ve seen, sex just leads to dangerous things.

  But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about sex. I have a very overactive imagination. And right now, I’m thinking of the guy who just walked into the building ripping off my clothes and spreading my legs open.

  He might have to whisper sweet dirty nothings into my ear to get me to let him see what’s between my legs. He might have to pick me up and wrap my legs around him and push himself into me.

  Fuck.

  I look at the clock on my dashboard. I can’t get this distracted right now.

  My break is over. I have to go back to my boring job even though I have nothing else to do for the 45 minutes I have to work— I get off at 5:30— until I can come back out to my car and go home.

  I throw my vape pen into the consul and turn my car off before getting out. As I walk by the smoking secretaries, I nod at them and smile, but they barely seem to notice my existence. They’re still talking about the mystery man— not that I can blame them.

  “I heard he’s worth way more money than Asher or Ron even knew,” one of them is to saying to the other.

  “Ruby found out he’s worth a fortune,” the second one says back to the first one.

  My heart skips a beat.

  So, he is coming to our office. And Ruby knows who he is. I might see him again. He might see me.

  As I step through the glass doors and into the building with a large mirror on the wall, I glance down at the outfit I haphazardly threw together this morning before rushing out the door: a turquoise, red and orange blouse with a black skirt. I certainly don’t look very professional— but my job’s not important enough to where that’s expected of me.

  I try to suck in my stomach. I’m normally not very self conscious but I’m not normally about to— hopefully— run into a rich, handsome man I’ve just fantasized about making love to me.

  That little development kind of changes things a bit. As I look down I see my breasts heaving with the extra breaths I’m taking thanks to my excitement.

  At least the benefit of being a bigger girl is having big boobs. I’m sure he’ll notice those right away, in addition to my witty and fun personality, of course.

  I shake my head, reminding myself that I probably won’t even see him. But I want to. I want to do a lot more than see him. I want to let him do to me what the partners here at the firm do to my co-workers.

  There really must be something contagious around here. I never thought I’d want an older, much more experienced man to take my virginity. But now, as I head up the elevator to the partners’ floor and hope that I see this mystery man waiting for me when I get out, it’s all I seem to want.

  Chapter 3 – Damien

  It’s the first time I’ve been to the law firm of Marks, Sanchez and Reed but I stroll into Ron Sanchez’s office like I fucking own the place. I was planning to knock, but his door is open, so I just walk right in.

  “Damien,” Ron says, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie.

  There’s a young woman sitting in the chair opposite his desk and she jumps as I come in. I nod at her. She’s attractive but what catches my attention the most is the fact that she has purple streaks of dye in her hair.

  Kids these days.

  “How did you know which office is mine?” Ron asks me.

  “There’s a receptionist,” I tell him, and he smirks at my sarcastic comment.

  “That’s true.”

  The relationship between businessmen such as myself and our lawyers has always amused me. We both need each other but at the same time we both resent needing each other.

  Without Ron Sanchez, I wouldn’t be able to get quality legal representation. Without me, he wouldn’t be able to keep the office’s lights on.

  But Ron wants me to pay as much as possible for his legal services while I want to pay as little as possible, so long as the representation is still good. It’s a delicate balance to strike.

  I sit down in the chair beside the legal assistant, whom I can only assume Ron is fucking. I’ve heard that the guys at this firm pull a lot of tail.

  I do too, but I never shit where I eat. I’m smarter than that. And my proclivities make it so that I can’t hook up with just any girl.

  She must understand the non-committed nature of any such “relationship” we enter. She must also be able to withstand a certain amount of pain mixed in with all the pleasure.

  “I appreciate all you are doing for me on this project,” I tell Ron, cutting to the chase because I have places to go and women to do.

  My phone is probably ringing off the hook right now with women wanting my dick. But I have it on silent for the purposes of this meeting.

  “Did you want to go down to Manny’s and have a drink?” Ron asks, referencing the ritzy bar on the first floor of the building where the firm’s office is located. He stands up. “It’s happy hour. Ruby, can you finish up the fil
ing work while we’re gone?”

  “No thank you,” I tell him.

  I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t do drugs. I don’t fuck women I work with.

  I didn’t get to be the billionaire CEO of several different companies by lacking discipline. I’m stronger than any of these other guys, both physically and mentally. I don’t need crutches such as booze or pills to get me through my day.

  Plus, I don’t want to have beers and chit chat with Ron. That would only give him an opportunity to try to schmooze me and charge me more money for whatever arrangement we end up agreeing upon.

  I like to keep things short, sweet and to the point. My time is money— especially when lawyers bill by the hour. Sure, I doubt he’d charge me to go have a drink with him— he’d probably even pick up the tab on his firm’s credit card— but I don’t like to get into the habit of having long conversations with my lawyer. The only place that can lead to is to higher legal bills in the future.

  “Okay, well,” he says, sitting back down. “We can stay here then.”

  Yes. We can.

  “As I was saying,” I continue, finally. “I appreciate the fact that you’ve taken on my humble case. This little toy company of mine is very near and dear to my heart—”

  “Shall we cut through all this bullshit?” someone interrupts, not even bothering himself with pleasantries before barging into the office with even more bravado than I did just a few minutes ago.

  I turn around to face the legend.

  “Asher Marks,” I say, standing up from my chair to shake his hand. “I’m Damien Hudson.”

  Behind him is yet another young lady— Asher is probably banging his secretary as well. Asher started this firm and his aura clearly announces that he thinks he can do what he wants around here. Sure, he had the help of Cameron Sanchez and Jameson Reed when he founded it but he’s the big moneymaker.