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The Boss

Page 1

by J. L. Perry




  THE BOSS

  Copyright © 2017 J. L. Perry

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-10: 0–9943987–1-9

  ISBN-13: 978–0-9943987–1-0

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used factitiously. Any resemblance to the actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Soxsational Cover Art

  Editing by Cross Editing Service

  Formatted by Integrity Formatting

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Contact the Author

  Other Books by J.L. Perry

  New Releases coming in 2017

  This book is dedicated to Candy Ross . . .

  Your support and friendship means everything to me.

  she’s been my obsession since I was seventeen.

  She’s the object of every dirty thought I’ve ever had.

  I’m consumed.

  I lust over her . . . albeit from afar.

  She has no idea how I feel.

  And my secret can never come out,

  because there’s one major hurdle standing in our way . . .

  When she offers to stand in as my temporary secretary, I’m torn.

  Will I be able to risk the temptation?

  Or will I succumb and lose everything that I hold dear?

  The expensive black leather on my plush office chair creaks when I slump back into it. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration as my secretary hastily spins around and runs out of my office in tears.

  “Fuck,” I mumble under my breath a few seconds later when I hear the door in the reception area slam shut. There goes secretary number four, or is it five? Michelle, my Human Resource Manager, is going to have my nuts for afternoon tea. Just the thought of it has my balls wanting to climb up inside of me and hide for their own safety.

  Tilting my head back, I exhale an exasperated breath as my gaze moves to the ceiling. I start to count to one hundred in my head, because I know that’s roughly how long it’s going to take before she comes busting through the door.

  “Eighty-seven . . . eighty-eight . . . eighty—.”

  Wow. A new record.

  “What the hell, Harrison,” Michelle screeches as she comes barrelling into my office. As frustrated as I am right now, a smile tugs at my lips. I know her like the back of my hand.

  We met in high school, when she started dating my best friend, Ethan. Ten years later they married, and she’s been a pain in my arse ever since. Don’t get me wrong, I love her like a sister, but she’s a ball-buster with a capital B. She keeps me, and her poor husband, on our toes. She’s also a constant reminder why I’m never getting married. Fuck that shit. I’m more than happy to keep playing the field. I don’t need no broad telling me what to do. I’m happy to date, but that’s as far as it goes. I think the longest relationship I’ve ever been in, lasted about a month tops. If I want to be henpecked, I’ll go to Ethan’s house.

  In all honesty, I can’t blame my lack of wanting to commit on Michelle though, that ball lays firmly in my parent’s court. Their fucked-up relationship was enough to turn me off ever settling down. If that’s what being married is all about, then I don’t want any part of it.

  I hold my hand up in the air, stopping her before she says another word. “Calm down, Shell,” I say as I place my hands on the desk and lean forward in my seat. She’s given me the same spiel three, or is it four times, over the past two weeks. I really don’t need to hear it again. I practically know it off by heart.

  “Don’t you tell me to calm down, mister!” Here we fucking go. I roll my eyes as I settle back into my chair. “You’ve had five secretaries run out of here in the past two weeks. May I add, in tears? Two weeks, Harrison.”

  “I have no tolerance for incompetence,” I point out, folding my hands behind my head.

  “Well, maybe if you stopped acting like a prick for five seconds and gave them a chance . . .”

  Her comment gets on my nerves. “Listen,” I say, bringing my body forward.

  “No. You listen. I’ve worked my arse off trying to find you a perfect replacement. Every single one of them have come with impeccable references. They were all more than suitable for the job.” She sighs before continuing. “The problem here is you, Harrison. Why can’t you act like the guy I know and love when you’re at work? This isn’t the real you.”

  I’d ask her the same question, but she’s a ball-buster even when she’s not at work. The truth is, I wouldn’t have her any other way. In her own twisted way, she’s only doing it because she cares. I constantly need to remind myself of that. Underneath all that toughness, is a heart of gold, and she wouldn’t hesitate to give you the shirt off her back. I trust her implicitly. She has my back, and only does what she thinks is best for me and my company. I can’t fault her, or her multi-fucking-personalities, for that. She can be a raging bitch one minute and as sweet as pie the next.

  “I didn’t get where I am today by being a pussy,” I state. This is a cut-throat industry. That’s why I’m so successful. I know what I want, and I’m not afraid to go after it. I’ve worked my arse off to get where I am. I used my shitty childhood to inspire me to be somebody. To earn enough money to not have to worry where my next meal was coming from. One major lesson I learnt from my fucked-up circumstances as a kid is starvation is a really good motivator.

  “Okay,” she says, standing. When she straightens her shoulders, I know she’s about to let me have it. “Maybe you should find your new replacement then, since my choices aren’t up to your standards.”

  “Maybe I should.”

  “Fine,” she snaps, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Fine.”

  Turning on her heels, she storms out of my office. Exactly like the secretary I just lost. Unlike what’s her name though, there’s no tears with this one. Hell would freeze over the day I made her cry.

  Exhaling a large breath, I run my fingers through my dark hair.

  Ethan deserves a damn medal.

  I honestly don’t know how he does it. I asked him that exact question once, and his answer was simple—love. Fucking love. Is there such a thing? Lust maybe, but love? It’s not something I’ve ever experienced.

  Minutes later, Michelle comes storming back into my office, dumping a large pile of motherfucking folders on my desk. “Good luck,” she says smugly, before turning to leave again. She pauses at the doorway, glancing at me over her shoulder. Her expression softens and a sweet smile graces her face before she speaks again. “By the way, there’s a family dinner tonight at seven. Don’t be late.”

  See, a perfect example of her multi-personality disorder right there.

  “Knock, knock,” I call out as I push open the front screen door, entering Ethan and Michelle’s house.

 
; “Harry,” I hear before I’m even through the doorway. She says it in a way that excites me, it’s one of those breathy kinda tones. Like the way I’d imagine her saying my name as I slid inside her. That sweet sound has all the blood in my body, rushing straight to my cock. I swear I could smell her before she even spoke. Plus, she’s the only person on this earth that gets away with calling me Harry.

  I’m glued to the spot as my eyes drink her in. She looks even more beautiful than I remember. She’s tanned, she’s glowing . . . she’s fucking radiant. Hanna. Hanna Scott. The object of every dirty thought I’ve ever had. Christ. The things we’ve done together in my mind. Ethan would kill me if he knew what me and his little sister got up to in my head. He’d string me up by my nuts for sure. Unfortunately, for those reasons alone, my dirty thoughts of her, will only ever be that. Ethan worships the ground she walks on.

  “God, it’s been months,” she says. “I’ve missed you.”

  Three and a half months to be exact, but who’s counting?

  “Shrimp,” I say as she leaps off the lounge, launching herself at me. It’s sinful how right she feels in my arms. Jesus, that smell. I inhale deeply as I tighten my embrace. It’s my addiction. It’s fruity and flowery, distinctively her.

  “Did you just sniff me?” she asks.

  “No.” I chuckle. I so just sniffed her. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at uni?”

  Please don’t think of her tits. Christ, now I’m thinking of her perky tits, that are firmly pressed into my chest.

  “I’m on a break. Classes don’t start back for another eight weeks.”

  That news has me smiling. I shouldn’t like the thought of having her around for the next eight weeks, but I do. I hate to admit it, but I’ve missed her more than I should have. I was hoping once she moved away to start University, my secret obsession with her would diminish. If anything, it’s only gotten stronger. She’s under my damn skin and occupying way too much space in my brain. Well, the dirty thoughts part of my brain anyway.

  “It’s good to see you,” I say, ruffling her hair.

  “You too.”

  I’ve never lusted over a woman like I do over her. Maybe that’s the problem. You always want what you can’t have. What I really need to do is fuck her and get her out of my system, but I already know that’s never going to happen.

  Growing up, she was just like one of the boys to me. She’d hang with us sometimes. My other mates would never let their little sisters hang around, but Ethan was different. He adores her. I never minded her being with us. She’s smart, witty, unpretentious, and just fun to be around. She always dressed in sweats and loose T-shirts. Unlike other women, fashion never seemed to be high on her radar. Back then, I never even looked at her that way. But things changed for me around the age of seventeen. Boy, did they change.

  I’ll never forget it. It was one of those lightbulb moments and it knocked me on my arse. Ethan and I were in his pool when she came out of the house wearing a tiny pink bikini. Her body was rocking. She had curves in all the right places. Her tits. Fuck me, her tits. I never knew she was packing those babies under all the loose clothing she wore. Thank Christ I was already in the water, because she gave me an instant boner. Nobody had ever affected me so instantly before.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen her for what she really was . . . a sexy as hell woman. She may’ve only been fifteen at the time, but she was all woman to me. A beautiful, every guy’s kinda fantasy, woman.

  From that moment on I was doomed.

  Fucking doomed.

  “Wanna beer?” Ethan asks as I settle back into the outdoor sofa by the barbeque.

  “Yeah.” My eyes follow him as he opens the small bar fridge on the back patio, grabbing two bottles of beer. “Thanks,” I say when he passes me one.

  I love coming here. Being with these guys has always felt like home to me. It’s by far my main motivator for staying away from Hanna. I’d never want to jeopardise my friendship with Ethan. I spent more time with his family growing up, than I did with my own. It was my happy place and far better than the nightmare of my reality.

  Having an alcoholic father, who slaps your mother around for fun, meant my real home wasn’t a fun place to be. But instead of leaving him, my mother chooses to jump from one bed to the next. I don’t know if it’s to spite him, or whether it’s her way of finding the affection she doesn’t get from him. Either way, it’s messed up. It only makes my father drink more and escalates the violence. So, it’s a lose-lose situation for them both, for all of us. It’s a vicious cycle that only they can break, but I can’t see that happening . . . ever.

  “So, how’s business going?” he asks as a smile plays on his lips. He knows damn well how it’s going. His wife works for me. Michelle would’ve already filled him in on the events of the day. She always does.

  “Seriously man, you need to rein that woman in. She’s getting worse.”

  He throws back his head and laughs. “Welcome to my world, sunshine . . . welcome to my world.”

  I would be delusional if I thought I’d get sympathy from him. He likes it when Michelle’s giving me a hard time. Cock. It’s a welcome reprieve for him.

  I wasn’t the one who put a ring on her damn finger, it’s an injustice that I have to be subjected to this bullshit. He signed on for it, I sure as hell didn’t.

  “So how are the interviews going?” Michelle asks as I go to place a piece of meat into my mouth. My fork pauses mid-air when I hear Ethan snickering from opposite me. After kicking him under the table, I continue eating. It’s rude to talk with your mouth full, so that conveniently means I don’t have to answer her.

  “Why are you interviewing?” Hanna asks.

  I point to my mouth as I chew. I’m not getting into this now. I’ll end up with indigestion if I do.

  “He’s looking for a new secretary, since he can’t seem to find one to suit.” Michelle’s eyes slightly narrow at me as she speaks. She’s on to me. She knows exactly what I’m doing. Nothing gets past her.

  Hanna reaches out, running her fingers gently down the length of my arm. It sends shockwaves straight to my cock. How can a simple touch from her do that? It’s like electricity coursing through my veins and awakening every last nerve ending. I hate that she affects me like that. It’s unnerving. And why does she have to smile at me in that way when she does it? I’m a sucker for that smile.

  “Oh, I’m happy to fill in until you find a replacement, Harry,” she says sweetly. The thought of having her so close has me inhaling a sharp breath, which causes the meat in my mouth to lodge in the back of my throat. Fuck. When I start to cough and bang on my chest, Hanna jumps up from her chair in a panic and begins tapping my back. I may be coughing up a lung, and possibly choking to death, but all I can think is, hell fucking no, I can’t have her working for me. “Oh my God, are you okay.”

  I hold my hand up in the air when the meat finally slides down the back of my throat, alerting her that the crisis had been averted, and I’m okay. I was kinda hoping I’d pass out from the lack of oxygen so I wouldn’t have to deal with this shit right now.

  “Yes, you’d be perfect,” Michelle squeals.

  No, she won’t. It’ll be torture. I’ll never get any work done. I’ll be too busy lusting over my hot as hell secretary sitting on the other side of the wall.

  “Hang on a minute,” Ethan chimes in, as his gaze moves to his wife. My best friend will save the day. “I’m not sure about this. You said the last five girls left in tears.”

  “Yes, yes, they did,” I reply, a little too enthusiastically.

  “I think we both know he’d never do that to your baby sister,” Michelle replies. She’s right, I don’t think I have it in me to make her cry, cry out my name in ecstasy as I send her over the edge, now that I could definitely do. “I can’t make any promises.” I’m grasping at straws here. I can already see Michelle’s mind ticking over. She’s gonna push for this.

  Hanna is studyi
ng Business Management. She’d be more than capable of doing the job at hand, if anything she’s overqualified. Unlike Ethan and Hanna, I never attended University. My parents simply couldn’t afford it. My father worked, but he drank most of his money away. One of the positives I drew from my parent’s situation was not only street smarts, but a burning desire to be nothing like them.

  When I was about ten, I started working; mowing lawns, washing cars, cleaning people’s windows and pools, whatever I could get my hands on. I even did the local paper route. What little free time I had, was spent at Ethan’s house. Neither Ethan, nor his mother, ever mentioned my situation at home, but they obviously knew it was pretty fucked up. Not only did Mrs Scott start having me over for dinner every night, she’d send an extra packed lunch to school with Ethan. Occasionally, she’d even give me clothes, using the excuse, “I bought these for Ethan, but they’re too big on him. It would be a shame to see them go to waste.” I wasn’t stupid, I knew exactly what she was doing. She’d bought them for me, but didn’t want me to feel like a charity case. I may have been poor, but I still had pride. I’ll always love her for that.

  Except for the few necessities I needed, I saved every penny I earnt. My mother didn’t need money because all her bed friends looked after her. By the time I was eighteen, I had enough saved to put a down-payment on a small unit, which I rented out to help pay off the mortgage. Within six months, I used the equity in that to buy another one. I had the property bug. It all seemed to grow from there. By the time I was twenty I made my first million and Williams Enterprises was born.

  That’s when I started acquiring prime parcels of land and selling them off at a huge profit to large corporations. Then I moved into building office blocks on the land. That brought in even more money. For a kid who did without so much growing up, I suddenly had the money to buy whatever I wanted. It was a nice feeling. If I never worked another day in my life, I’d never go hungry again. But I love what I do, so I’m not about to stop.

 

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