My Sexy Boss

by Chiah Wilder

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I guess. Is that glass of wine for me?” Smiling, she nodded. I picked it up, grasped her hand, and guided her to the couch. Kicking off my shoes, I sank down on the couch, taking her with me.

  “I made your favorite comfort food—beef stew. I figured you’d need it.”

  I hugged her close and nuzzled my face against her neck. “I love you so much.”

  “Me too,” she whispered back. “Was it awful?”

  I pulled away, then dangled my arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to me. “Ryan hates me. He always has. He’s resented me from day one and I never saw it.”

  “How could you? You were only a child.”

  “And we all loved him. How could he not see that? My very existence is why my brother hates me to the core.”

  Cierra picked up my hand and softly kissed the palm of it. “Don’t blame yourself. Cory—I mean Ryan was probably used to having all the attention, but then you came along and of course the attention focused on you since you were so young. He was jealous of it and it kept gnawing at him. Your dad was his anchor, so Ryan probably felt like a fish out of water when he died. I’m not saying your family didn’t love him, it’s just that he might’ve felt like he never belonged. But to pretend he was kidnapped so he could get money, and then coming back here to ruin you when you made CEO is taking it to the extreme. It sounds like he’s got some mental issues.”

  “I agree. This is way more than just not liking me and having nothing to do with me. His mother did end up in a mental institution, so maybe he suffers from the same illness.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?” she asked.

  “It’s a white-collar crime. Our lawyer told me he’s facing up to fifteen years in a federal prison and a very hefty fine, but considering it’s his first offense, he’ll probably only get a year or two.”

  “But you have the whole issue of using another person’s identity and having a driver’s license in that name. I know that’s a felony.”

  I nodded. “He’s going to be tied up for a long time with all of it. A part of me still wants him to tell us he’s sorry for what he did and come back into the family. Is that crazy?”

  Cierra tipped her head back and looked at me. “Not at all. He’s still your brother. Your memory of him is as your big brother who was nice to you. Then you had all those years of grieving and missing him. Even though you know who he is and what he’s done, your mind and feelings are still wrapped up inside the little boy.”

  I kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re right. It’ll take time for me to come to terms with all of this.”

  For the next hour, we talked about how funny life could be. She’d told me her parents were coming to the city for a visit, and I told her I wanted to meet them. I wasn’t just saying that; I wanted to know everything about her and meet the people who influenced and shaped her. She’d gotten into my heart when I wasn’t looking, and she satisfied me in a way no other woman ever had or ever could. For a long time, I thought the countless women and parties were all I needed, and whenever an empty feeling took hold of me, I’d find another party and chick to crush it. Then Cierra came into my life, and she filled the gap. For the first time, my life felt complete.

  “Do you know what you do to me?” I asked in a low voice.

  “Make you happy?” she answered.

  I nodded. “And make me whole.”

  Her eyes shimmered as she put her hand on the back of my neck and tugged me toward her waiting lips. We kissed and touched each other until a buzzer pierced through our desire.

  “What the fuck is that?” I started to get up.

  Laughing, she eased me back down. “That’s my timer. The stew’s ready.” She jumped up and went into the kitchen.

  I rose and followed her, admiring the way the apron hugged her curves. She made a quick salad, then brought the stew over to the breakfast bar as I carried over the salad and sat down. She spooned the stew onto our plates, and when I took the first bite, it was the best damn thing I’d ever eaten.

  Eating together, sharing stories and laughter made the stress and sadness of the last twenty-four hours melt away. Cierra was my quiet strength and she didn’t even know it. All I wanted was to protect her, love her, and be with her always. After more than a decade of booze, sex, and women, I was grounded.

  I was home.

  And it was a great place to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Cierra

  I tossed yet another dress on top of the growing heap on the bed and went over to the closet, snatching a pink floral sleeveless dress off the hanger. “We’re going to be so damn late,” I muttered under my breath as I shrugged the dress on.

  “Are you ready yet? It’s getting late,” Trace said from the living room.

  “Don’t remind me. I’m moving as fast as I can.” My stomach had been churning most of the morning. Trace’s grandmother had invited us to her garden party and I was a nervous wreck. Not only was his grandmother going to be there but Mr. Linder, Trace’s aunt, and his mother would also be there. I wished I could slink away or feign the flu… anything to keep me from being scrutinized by his family.

  A low whistle stopped my thoughts and I whirled around, smiling when I saw the hungry look in Trace’s eyes as they skimmed over my body.

  “You look gorgeous. If it wasn’t getting so late, I’d have that pretty dress of yours off in a flash.” He took several steps toward me.

  “I wasn’t sure if this was too casual.” I looked down at my high-heeled sandals. “At least my shoes are killer,” I said as I reached for the hairbrush.

  Drawing me into his arms, he kissed my neck softly then ran his hands down my back until they cupped and squeezed my butt. “I’d love to see you naked except for your fuck-me heels.”

  He jerked me closer to him and his hard bulge rubbed against me. I inhaled his aftershave, his shampoo, and that extra scent that was just … him. I tilted my head back and gasped at the intensity of his stare as waves of desire flowed through me. So taken with the effect he had on me, I forgot to breathe.

  An intense heat sizzled between us as he bent down and softly brushed his lips across mine sending shivers through my nerves that made my body tremble and sink deeper into his embrace. Then his lips pressed against mine and my arms curled around his neck while he kissed me. And it was a messy, wonderful, frenzy of a kiss. His tongue slipped through the kiss and into my mouth, coaxing my tongue to invade his own, and I realized that I’d never have enough of his kisses or his taste. The digital clock on the nightstand read one thirty and I knew we should’ve already been heading out, but I didn’t care about that. All I wanted was Trace. Even though we were locked in a heated kiss, our bodies practically fused together, I wanted him closer still until we melted into one another.

  When I rubbed my knee against his hard dick, he groaned softly, low in the throat, and tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling it hard until my scalp tingled. Each jerk, each shiver, each moan drove me wild and made my knee push harder against his crotch. Then, without warning, he pulled away from me, dragged me over to the closed closet door, and spun me around so I was facing it.

  “Hands flat on the door,” he rasped as he lifted up my dress. The cool air from the air conditioner fanned over my exposed butt cheeks as I placed my hands against the door and bent over.

  I heard him suck in his breath. “You’re wearing a thong. Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.” Placing his knee between my legs he pushed them apart. “Bend lower. I want your ass up high. Spread your legs more.”

  The way he commanded me made my insides quiver. I heard him unzip his dress pants then felt his hands on each of my cheeks. “So tempting,” he said under his breath. Smack! I yelped from the sting of his hand slapping my ass. I looked over my shoulder and caught his heated gaze. “You like that?” he asked hoarsely.

  Before I could answer, a slap on my other cheek made me jump. His warm breath caressed my b
utt and his cool tongue soothed the stinging. Taking his finger, he ran it through my dripping folds and a low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

  “You liked that, didn’t you?”

  Too aroused to answer, I nodded and spread wider. He leaned over, and the weight of his body on my back was amazing and I felt him—all of him. I shuddered when he placed feathery kisses on the nape of my neck, and cried out when he shoved into me at full force. The gentleness of his kisses contrasted with the way he pummeled in and out of me, and I loved it. The only sounds in the room were the whirring of the AC and our grunting and moaning as we both climbed higher and faster until everything burst.

  “Fuck, Cierra,” he yelled as I went over the glittery rainbow and combusted into a million shimmering pieces. His heavy breathing was in sync with mine, and my legs were jelly. Sensing it, his arms encircled my waist and held me up as I leaned back into him, my dress falling down over my thighs.

  “That was incredible,” I murmured as the afterglow of a fantastic orgasm warmed me.

  “You’re incredible,” he said in a low voice.

  The ringtone of his phone startled us and, with his arm still locked around me, he went over to the dresser and picked it up. “It’s my grandmother,” he whispered before answering.

  I smiled when he told her something had come up that had made us run a bit late. I kissed his neck as he continued to make his apologies and excuses to his grandmother, and he ended the call with the promise that we’d be there shortly. When he hung up, he laughed at my shaking head and kissed me quickly.

  “Don’t give me that look,” he said.

  “I need to. I’m supposed to be making a good impression on your family, and now I’m going to show up late. You’re good at corrupting me.”

  “I don’t think I have to work very hard at doing it.” He laughed as I feigned a pissed off look.

  As I watched him undo his belt and tuck in his shirt, I still couldn’t believe how sexy and handsome he was. In his light charcoal suit, crisp blue shirt, and purple and royal blue paisley tie, he looked every bit the part of a suave CEO of a big company. But I knew that there was an ungentlemanly side to my boss that kept my body on high alert most of the time.

  “You look great,” I said as I fixed his tie. He winked at me and grabbed the car keys off the dresser.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “In a minute.” I brushed my hair, reapplied my lipstick, and picked up my clutch purse. The butterflies had started in my stomach again and I willed them to calm down.

  “It’s going to be fine,” he said, pulling me into his arms in a comforting embrace and planting a quick kiss on my hair. “They’re going to love you. Seriously.”

  I looked up at him. “How do you know that?”

  Offering me one of those cocky smiles I knew well, he squeezed me. “Because I do.” He glanced at his watch. “Come on, we have to get out of here. My grandmother’s going to have my head.”

  “And mine,” I added as I locked the door to my apartment and followed him to the elevator. And, as he glanced over his shoulder and held out his hand to pull me in toward him, I felt my heart flip with love in my chest. If he said this was going to be all right, then it would be. Because with him, it always was.

  After settling into the passenger seat, we drove through the city and crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin County. When I’d first arrived in San Francisco, I made a special trip to Marin County to ogle the stately mansions and well-manicured lawns. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be going to a garden party at one of the mansions. Sometimes, life could be so wonderfully unpredictable.

  Trace stopped in front of a pair of wrought iron gates and pushed the buttons on a keypad. The gates opened to a circular brick paved driveway with a sparkling fountain in the middle of a large and colorful flowerbed. The house Trace grew up in was humungous and looked like a French château with its steeply sloping roof, dormer windows, and stone exterior. He jumped out of the car, opened the passenger door, and helped me out.

  “I bet you had some fun games of hide and seek,” I said as we walked up the steps that led to a large porch and an ornately carved wooden door.

  He laughed and opened the door. I stepped inside and gaped. Polished marble floors and a graceful banister that curved up toward a soaring second floor greeted me. The foyer was bigger than my whole apartment. As I gazed at all the paintings, bronze sculptures, and tapestries, I heard Trace say, “Sorry we’re late, Grandma.” I swallowed and turned toward the voices. An attractive older woman with light brown hair pulled into a tight chignon smiled at me.

  “Is this Cierra?” she asked as she moved toward me.

  Trace grasped my hand. “It is.”

  I extended my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Linder. Trace speaks so highly of you.”

  “He better, and please call me Lucille,” she said as she took my hand. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet the woman who would captured my grandson’s heart.” She smiled and the lines around her eyes and mouth crinkled.

  I felt my face heat and Trace tightened his grip on my hand. “Is Mom here?”

  Mrs. Linder nodded. “She’s out back with the others. Come on.” We followed her out to a spacious stone patio that had sweeping views of the ocean. To the right of the patio I could see a garden full of redwoods and blooming wisteria trees in lavender blue.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” I whispered to Trace.

  Strewn over the lawn were tables, chairs, and pastel yellow umbrellas. Vases of pale pink and deep fuchsia roses decorated the white linen draped tables and pretty gold-rimmed china and crystal champagne flutes adorned each place.

  “Let’s get a drink,” Trace said as he led me into a large tent.

  Inside, two crystal chandeliers brightened the room that held a large bar and several tall tables. A few women in large hats stood at the tables, chatting, drinking, and nibbling on hors d’oeuvres that a waiter passed around.

  “Mom,” Trace said as we approached the bar.

  A woman with dark brown hair turned around and smiled broadly before pulling him into a long embrace. Her eyes darted to me then back to him.

  He pulled me forward. “This is Cierra, Mom.”

  Her gaze ran over me quickly and she nodded her head. “Nice to meet you.”

  She wasn’t as friendly as his grandmother, but she didn’t have daggers in her eyes, so I figured that was a plus. “I’m very happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Trace.”

  She gave me a small smile then diverted her attention back to Trace. As they chatted, I looked around the room and noticed the woman who had been with Trace at the Vibra launch. The dainty peach lace dress she wore looked fabulous on her and probably cost more than I made in a month. Her eyes darted to Trace before settling on me. Wanting to be congenial, I smiled at her, and the corners of her mouth turned up exposing straight white teeth.

  As if on cue, Trace’s mother turned toward her and flashed a toothy grin. “Victoria. How nice to see you. Come over here and say hi to Trace.”

  An acrid taste filled my mouth, and I stood blinking as I watched the woman strut across the floor as though she were a fashion model on the runway.

  “Carolyn,” she gushed as she air-kissed Trace’s mother. Then she slid up next to Trace and ran her slender hand up his arm. “How are you? It’s been too long.” She pecked him on the cheek.

  “Isn’t it nice that Victoria could come today?” Carolyn asked Trace.

  “Yeah. Sure.” He glanced over at me and extended his arm, his hand reaching for me. I placed my hand in his and he tugged me close to him. “Victoria, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Cierra.”

  My insides melted and I had the strange urge to kiss him madly in front of all the fashionable people at the party, but I didn’t think that would endear me too much to his mother, so I just smiled politely.

  “You’re the one who works for Trace, aren’t you?” Victoria asked.


  “Yes, I am.”

  “I remember you from the launch party I attended with Trace.” She poked him in the ribs and chuckled. “So you finally let someone catch you.”

  Trace’s mother fixed her gaze on me. “You’re a lucky woman,” she said.

  “I know. I feel very—”

  “I’m the lucky one,” Trace said as he tucked me in closer to him.

  As Carolyn’s eyes narrowed, a vertical wrinkle between her eyebrows became visible. Her lips pursed slightly.

  “And why are you lucky?” a deep voice said behind us.

  All of a sudden my mouth went dry and my muscles twitched. I knew that voice well—Mr. Linder. What would he say when he found out Trace and I were dating? When he was running Velocity he was the one who implemented the no fraternization policy, and he was inflexible with it. A couple of people had been let go during the five years I’d worked at Velocity for breaking the policy. I swallowed and held my breath as I saw him coming toward us out of the corner of my eyes.

  “Grandpa.” Trace’s eyes lit up with affection as Mr. Linder stood in front of us.

  For a few long seconds, Mr. Linder’s gaze scanned my face, a quizzical look on his face, then recognition lit his eyes and he smiled. “Ms. Duncan. It’s very nice to see you again.”

  “It’s nice seeing you too. Everyone at Velocity misses you.” I pulled at a hangnail and fidgeted.

  Then his smile faded as he took in Trace’s arm around me and the way we were attached at the hip. Nausea assaulted me, and all I wanted to do was run away.

  “Trace…?” Mr. Linder crossed his arms against his chest.

  “He’s dating her,” Carolyn said before Trace could say anything.

  “Dating?” His gaze darted to me. “Did you change jobs?”