Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Numbly, she followed him in, hoping the second she entered she’d see it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Though clean, the restaurant was definitely a diner, with plastic menus and a long row of booths along a stretch of countertop. It had red and white-chequered wallpaper accented with a large clock and tables whose tops were lacquered newspaper clippings – most with pictures of horses.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she whispered, her nose burning with sudden unshed tears. Her hands shook. A diner? She’d left her home, her city, her family for a diner? If she wanted to work in a diner she could have moved somewhere closer to New York City. Unable to stop her feet, she followed him toward the metal swinging door with a small round window leading to the kitchen. Basket fryers were next to a stainless-steel range complete with a griddle and six burners. A high shelf was set right beneath the pick-up window showing out over the main floor. Double ovens lined one wall, next to a worktable with a butcher block and an array of appliances. The red ceramic floors had a darkness to them that would never look completely clean, no matter how hard a person scrubbed. The white walls were constructed of washable panelling, covered with clear plastic splashguards at places.

  Jackson stared at her, his face unmoving, his dark eyes searching for her reaction. Was this a test? A joke? Was he waiting to see what she would do?

  ‘I thought you said you needed a head chef.’ Zoe tried to choose her words carefully, tried to keep the disappointment from her eyes, tried to look as blank as his expressionless face.

  ‘And I do. You just happen to be the only chef. What do you care? You needed a job, I needed a cook, you begged for this –’

  ‘I didn’t beg for this.’ She felt as if she were being punished for something.

  ‘You begged for a job. This is a job.’ He took a step toward her and she became aware of how very alone they were in the kitchen. The breadth of his shoulders blocked her line of sight until all she saw was his body looming forward. ‘I told you the position wasn’t glamorous and that I had more pressing matters with a new restaurant proposal in Texas. I don’t have time to interview for cooks here. I need someone who can just come in and do it. Did I make a mistake in bringing you here?’

  ‘That’s it?’ Zoe swallowed, wondering if he knew how close he was standing. The gentle scent of his cologne wafted across her senses. She saw a subtle shift in his expression, a lifting of his brow, a curve of his full mouth. Her breath caught in her throat, even as her heart sped in her chest. She did her best to hide her trembling.

  ‘You want there to be more?’ The soft brush of his words fanned her cheek, carrying the accent of his voice. What he implied was not what she’d meant, but as the words left him and he leant his face toward hers, she found herself meeting his kiss. Aggression poured between them, as if they fought with their mouths instead of words. Only, Zoe wasn’t sure what they were arguing about. A warm hand gripped the side of her face, holding her tight. His body grazed the length of hers and she touched his firm waist, not pulling or pushing as she made contact.

  The forcefulness only increased when his tongue delved into her mouth, conquering the depths with a bruising intent. Zoe didn’t back down. She’d never been kissed with such knee-weakening passion. Desire warmed her stomach and thighs, centering its slick burn in her dampening sex. Something grazed her stomach, so lightly she couldn’t be sure which part of him it was by feel alone. But when it happened again, she had the distinct impression it was his erect cock. Every ounce of her wanted to grip him tight, force his muscled body to hers, but the mild shock that she was being kissed by the Jackson Levy kept her from instigating more.

  ‘Hel-low!’

  The loud call punctuated by the bell over the front door caused them to jerk apart at the same instant. Zoe licked her lips, tasting the cool mint of him on her tingling mouth. Jackson’s hand stayed on her face, his shocked expression saying more than words ever could. He was as amazed by their kiss as she was. Though their bodies had not pressed together, her hand was still on his waist.

  ‘Jackson? Boy, you in here? Bob said you were coming by today.’ The voice that interrupted them continued, the sound tired with the deep gravelly quality of a heavy smoker.

  Zoe panted hard. Jackson pulled away, putting distance between them. His hand slid from her face as her fingers left his side. She tried to speak, but had no idea what to say. He visibly swallowed, his gorgeous lips parting in a deep breath. He pointed at her, bouncing his hand lightly in the air. ‘We’ll, ah …’He didn’t finish as he turned to the metal kitchen door in time to see it swing open. ‘Sheryl, hey there, sweetheart. How’s my best waitress?’

  Zoe felt jealousy burn through her at his easy tone, until she saw the older woman he talked to. Her dyed-black hair contrasted with the paleness of her wrinkled face. The short locks were cut straight along her chin and the cat-eye style of her glasses was actually pretty trendy in some artsy New York circles. Her white button-down blouse tucked into her black, pleated, knee-length skirt.

  ‘I’m your only waitress,’ Sheryl answered with a wink. Her playful expression faded when she acknowledged Zoe. ‘You must be the new cook. I’ll do the pies and the pound cake. I don’t do rolls. I don’t cook and if the dishwasher doesn’t show, you’re in charge of the dishes. I’ll need a list of specials at the beginning of the week. I like to tell the regulars what to expect and I highly recommend you make Tuesday meatloaf. If you don’t, I won’t protect you. Mashed potatoes must be homemade. If it comes from a box the customers will scream louder than a stuck pig. Other favorites include ham and beans with cornbread, zucchini pancakes, potato pancakes, sweet potato pie, meatballs, barbeque chicken, chicken and dumplings, fried chicken gizzards and smothered pork chops. Recipes are in the desk file in case you don’t know how to make them right, being as you’re from New York and all. Potato salad is homemade, but you don’t have to do it. I’ll leave it in the fridge every Monday. And it’s not on the menu, but when tomatoes are in season, we always offer fried green tomatoes.’

  Zoe couldn’t answer. Her heart still fluttered in her chest from Jackson’s kiss. If his plan had been to throw her completely out of her element, he’d succeeded.

  ‘Good.’ Sheryl nodded in approval. ‘Quiet ones work harder.’

  When the woman left the kitchen, Zoe said, ‘I thought I was the head chef.’

  ‘Technically, you are. But Sheryl’s been here a long time. I’ll leave it up to you if you want to try and cross her.’ Jackson nodded once before pulling out a card. He tossed it on the butcher block. ‘My number if you need it.’

  Zoe watched him leave before growling under her breath. Ranting to herself, she said, ‘This is a joke. I finally have control over my own restaurant and it barely qualifies as a restaurant and a waitress thinks she can tell me what to do.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Zoe gasped, spinning toward the door. She hadn’t heard it open. Sheryl raised an eyebrow, clearly having heard the rant. Tossing a plastic menu down on the cold stovetop, she said, ‘Better have this memorized. I don’t want to have to explain my orders.’

  Chapter Four

  JACKSON NODDED, LISTENING to Charlie talk about business expansion as he occasionally glanced out the window toward the diner. The general store’s front window had a perfect view of the restaurant’s entrance. What was Zoe doing in there? Sheryl left soon after she had arrived. He almost felt bad for Zoe, knowing how much of a tyrant the older woman could be. But Sheryl, like most of the town, was like family to him. It was this close-knit feeling that he missed when away in the big city. He knew people here, really knew them. He visited them in the hospital and knew that they’d come and see him if anything happened. He knew their kids, mourned at their funerals, celebrated at their weddings. Then why had he brought Zoe here? Why to a place that was so special to him? To a place he rarely let even the most elite of his clients come to, and then only if they were in the horse market?

  ‘I heard your new cook was young and pretty.�
� Charlie followed Jackson’s gaze through the front window. ‘Also heard she wasn’t big on the small talk.’

  ‘She’s from New York.’ Jackson knew that would explain everything. He tried not to think about the searing kiss they’d shared. What had prompted him to kiss her like that? On her first day and so passionately?

  Charlie nodded. ‘Heard that.’

  Jackson chuckled. ‘Marta’s been by, I see. That woman should write the gossip column.’

  ‘I’ll mention it to her.’ Charlie laughed.

  ‘Oh, no, please don’t.’ Jackson tensed as the restaurant door opened. Zoe was on her cell phone and began to walk away before turning to lock the door. Whatever the conversation was, she was deep into it.

  ‘Go,’ Charlie said. ‘No point in standing around here when she’s out there.’

  ‘Nothing is going on. She’s just a temporary employee. Bob needed a vacation.’ Jackson didn’t take his eyes from Zoe’s slender figure as she held the phone with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist in a protective gesture.

  ‘He using the cabin?’

  ‘Callie threatened my life. I think they’re going to Savannah for a few weeks. Jefferson’s fiancée has family there and the ladies are going to do some wedding shopping.’

  ‘I’d prefer the fishing cabin.’ Charlie coughed, tapping his chest.

  ‘So would my brothers.’ Jackson kept an eye on Zoe as he made a move for the door. ‘I’ll see you later, Charlie. I need to make sure she’s not going to ruin the diner.’

  ‘Now that would be a true tragedy. All of Main Street would starve without it.’

  ‘Kat, it’s awful. I mean, the menu is like … is like …’ Zoe shivered. Out of all her sisters, Kat was closest to Zoe. They just seemed to get each other. ‘It’s like a diner’s. Chicken fried steak, grits, potato salad, ruebens, hamburgers, hotdogs, coleslaw, macaroni with cheese, fried foods –’

  ‘Oh, sweetie, do you want me to send the jet?’ Kat interrupted, concern in her voice.

  ‘No, there are a couple of bright spots. I get to choose the soup of the day and I get to do my own specials, except for Tuesday, which apparently must be meatloaf.’

  ‘Ew!’

  ‘Yeah.’ Zoe nodded, though her sister couldn’t see her. She paced to the end of the block, passing the bed and breakfast. ‘But I can do this. I can prove myself.’

  ‘Of course you can.’

  ‘I’m going to go. I’ll call you later.’ Zoe said goodbye and hung up. She found herself a block from the bed and breakfast in a residential neighborhood. Some of the children playing in the front lawns stared at her, a little girl grinning as she held an enormous rainbow lollipop in her dirty hands.

  Giving a brief, uncomfortable smile, she turned and went brusquely back toward Marta’s. She watched her feet, not making eye contact out of habit from living in the city. Hearing a car, she glanced up. Her gaze instantly drew forward, magnetically drawn down the sidewalk. Jackson stood before the bed and breakfast’s picket fence.

  Instantly, her lips tingled, reminding her of what his kiss had felt like against them. She missed her step and tripped on a deep crack in the sidewalk, realizing she seemed to stumble a lot around him. Doing her best to recover gracefully, she cleared her throat and tried to smile. ‘Checking on my progress?’

  ‘Do I need to?’ The softness of his words was almost as seductive as his dark eyes.

  ‘I can run a kitchen.’ Zoe refrained from adding, especially one as small as the one you gave me.

  ‘That remains to be seen.’ Jackson motioned that she should follow him. Instead of heading inside the bed and breakfast, he made his way around the side of the house toward the woods in back. The combination of foliage, trees and plants created a rich tapestry as it canopied over the worn dirt path leading into the woods.

  ‘Where are we going?’ She looked over her shoulder, wondering why he’d bring her to the woods in her chef uniform. Or why he’d bring her there at all.

  ‘The only place in town where we can be guaranteed some privacy.’ Jackson’s features gave no hint of what he was thinking. Zoe ducked under a branch as he held it aside for her. As it fell back into place, hiding them from the stark white of the bed and breakfast, Jackson grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. His lips came down hard, but she jerked back before he made contact.

  Zoe fought the tension between them, her mind screaming all the reasons why she should run. He was her boss. He was only doing this as some sort of punishment for the way she had treated him, or simply because he could. He didn’t respect her. If he did, she’d be in a better restaurant, not a two-bit diner. Then there was the possibility that this diner was where he brought all young female cooks to toy with them, like some sick rich man’s game – not that she wanted to believe he was cruel like that.

  But for all the reasons she shouldn’t be with him, there was one very strong reason why she should. She wanted him. His eyes pulled her, tugging a cord she kept buried deep inside. Looking at him awakened part of her soul, a longing and desire she often denied. Jackson breathed hard, his eyes narrowed, his mouth open as he looked at her, waiting for her response.

  Zoe jerked him forward, kissing him on her own terms. She moaned lightly, pressing her chest to his harder one. Her arms wound around his shoulders and her fingers gripped at the nape of his neck. Spearmint flavoured his lips as if he had sucked on breath mints recently. The taste drew her in and she thrust her tongue past the barrier of his teeth. Jackson sucked on her tongue before letting his dance around hers in small, intoxicating circles.

  Warmth curled in her stomach, centering on her sex and causing the slick glide of cream to build between the soft folds of her pussy. She squirmed, suddenly too hot in the thick white material of her chef’s uniform. Jackson massaged her lower back, kneading his fingers against her as he slowly drew up her jacket and the tight tank top she wore underneath. Strong hands dipped beneath the elastic band of her uniform pants, taking hold of the cheeks of her ass. The cotton of her panties provided no protection against his heat. Pulling her flush against him, he rocked his erection against her, letting her feel the full, hard length.

  Zoe broke her mouth away, gasping. Her heart hammered against the walls of her chest, pounding so loud it echoed in her ears. Jackson spread her cheeks, lifting her so her heels left the ground.

  ‘We should go deeper in the woods,’ he whispered, pulling his hands from her pants. His fingers slid along her forearm before gripping her hand. Without waiting for her to answer, he pulled her behind him, walking her deeper into the forest.

  Zoe couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Every inch of her ached to be touched, kissed, loved. She tried not to let her mind romanticize what was happening. As her sister Kat would tell her, this was lust, not love, and there was nothing wrong with it. But Zoe didn’t have casual sex and it was harder for her to separate the two.

  ‘I don’t want to lose my job,’ Zoe said, stumbling over a tree root that rose up over the trail.

  Suddenly, he stopped. Frowning, he studied her. ‘This isn’t a condition of your working for me.’

  ‘It’s not?’ She had no idea why she had said it. Jackson wasn’t forcing her to follow him.

  He sighed heavily. ‘Is this what you normally do for your bosses?’

  ‘What?’ She gasped. ‘No. No, I don’t do this … I haven’t … Why? What did Contiello tell you about me? Did he say I slept with him? Because that’s not what happened. I never touched him. Well, of course, I touched him, but I never …’ Zoe took a calming breath, realizing she was babbling. ‘I don’t normally sleep with my bosses.’

  Jackson quirked an amused brow. ‘You’re adorable when you’re flustered.’

  ‘I’m not flustered,’ she lied.

  ‘Good. Because I like women who know what they want.’ He took her hand and held it firmly against the bulge in the front of his pants. ‘And who can finish what they start.’

  Jackson groane
d, tilting his head as he used her fingers to massage his erection. The backyard to the bed and breakfast was no longer in view as the trail had twisted as they walked. All around them were trees and the sound of birds singing. Insects hummed in the background, a gentle yet unfamiliar sound to her city ears. She shivered, glad she wasn’t alone. This wasn’t her first time in the wilderness, but the isolation did make her uneasy.

  ‘Will anyone come this way?’ She glanced around.

  ‘Not likely this time of day. Why? Don’t you like the idea of being caught?’

  Zoe shook her head. ‘No. Not in a town of, like, two hundred people.’

  ‘Three thousand,’ he corrected. ‘Unless we’re hosting a horse competition, then it’s about double that.’

  ‘Compared to eight million, it might as well be two hundred. I’ve heard about gossip in places like this. Everyone knows everyone’s business.’ Still, she didn’t pull her hand away.

  Jackson didn’t seem to hear her words as he again kissed her, sawing his lips against her with insistent passion. Teeth cut the delicate tissue of her lips and she tore her mouth away in pain. ‘Ah! Too rough.’

  A leisurely smile tugged at the side of his mouth and he leant forward, licking her sore lip lightly. The tip of his tongue darted out, teasing her with its warm caress. With each pass, his kiss deepened, but not like before. This time he was gentle, as if she were a delicate flower. The new tactic caused her to moan. What was it about this man that made her forget herself?

  She tugged at his shirt, pulling it up to feel his waist. The hard, hot flesh of his stomach contracted when she touched him. Jackson worked on the black stud buttons along the front of her uniform, expertly unfastening them so the sides fell open. Within seconds, the jacket fell to the ground and a cooling breeze caressed her naked arms. The tank top clung to her skin, but the flimsy white material provided little protection. Jackson pulled it off, and tossed it aside. His shirt followed, landing on top of her discarded one.