Seduced by the Boss 1: Pent-Up Passion

by Jenn Roseton

  Seduced by the Boss 1: Pent-Up Passion

  By

  Jenn Roseton

  Seduced by the Boss 1: Pent-Up Passion

  Copyright © 2012 by Jenn Roseton

  www.JennRoseton.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

  WARNING:

  Adult Reading Material Only: This is an erotic romance and contains a graphic sex scene. ONLY For Adults aged 18+

  Jemma Jones squirmed on her top-of-the-line office chair. She could hear the murmur of Mr. Sexy Sinclair’s voice through the wall behind her. Her boss had an attractive, deep voice that sent shivers through her, even when she tried to concentrate solely on taking his dictation.

  She’d worked at Sinclair Consulting for eighteen months, and every time she saw her boss, Adam Sinclair, her pulse fluttered. He was tall and fit, with dark hair, ocean blue eyes and a smile that did something to her insides. He looked to be in his early thirties (she was twenty-six) and as far as she knew, he was single.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t think he noticed her at all, except for the efficient way she ran his successful one-man office. Every time he called her in for dictation, her heart started beating a little faster. She supposed it was unusual these days for secretaries to take dictation, since most bosses knew their way around a computer keyboard, but sometimes Mr. Sinclair would ask her to take a letter or short memo. And lately, he’d been asking her to take dictation more often. She was just glad she’d decided to learn shorthand in order to make herself more marketable to potential employers. She hadn’t realized a side benefit would be having one-on-one time with her sexy boss.

  The sad fact was, she hadn’t had a boyfriend for months. Her last relationship had fizzled out before it had even started. Mitchell had been a real tightwad, always “forgetting” his wallet when they were out on a date. Jemma would have to pay for both of them - until the last date when she had gotten so fed up with the situation that she'd deliberately left her wallet at home to force him to pay. And it had worked. The restaurant manager had been on the verge of calling the police when Mitchell had magically found his wallet buried deep in his pants pocket and reluctantly paid the bill.

  Jemma had been on the point of breaking up with him anyway, and this last date had made the decision for her. Instead of giving him a goodnight kiss, she'd given Miserly Mitchell the old heave-ho. She considered herself lucky that she hadn‘t slept with him yet. She was pretty sure that if he was selfish in one area of his life, he would be in others. And she definitely didn’t want a selfish lover.

  That had been six months ago, and she hadn’t been involved with anyone since. In fact, she hadn’t even had a date. At night when she felt lonely, she thought of Mr. Sexy Sinclair and pleasured herself with her fingers until she came with a shudder.

  “Miss Jones.”

  She started as her boss’s smoky voice interrupted her flashback to last night’s self-pleasuring and felt her cheeks heat. Her favorite fantasy involved sitting naked in Mr. Sexy Sinclair’s executive chair, the soft leather caressing her bottom and the backs of her thighs as she waited for him to join her for a special kind of “dictation”. Whenever she thought about it, she always felt moisture between her thighs, no matter where she was or what she was doing.

  He must have finished his phone call. Thank goodness he wasn’t a mind reader.

  "Yes, Mr. Sinclair?” She called, sounding way too husky for her own good. Her cheeks flamed hotter.

  "Could you come in here for dictation, please.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tamping down her embarrassment, Jemma grabbed her dictation pad and pencil and walked into his office, well aware that unfortunately, it wasn‘t going to be the “dictation“ scenario of last night’s fantasy.

  Adam Sinclair sat behind his uncluttered mahogany desk, his large, well-shaped hand clasping a gold pen. Jemma wondered how those hands would feel caressing her bare skin and hastily suppressed her shiver of desire. She had to stop thinking about how much she wanted her boss or she wouldn't be able to even look at him! He wore one of the outfits that Jemma like best - a gray designer suit, white shirt and pale blue silk tie.

  She sat in one of the comfortable and softly upholstered chairs opposite his desk and waited for him to begin, telling herself to concentrate, to not even think about nervously licking her lips and for heaven's sake not to squirm with the moist flush that his sizzling magnetism drew from her private place.

  His lips curved in that crooked smile that never failed to make her think of pirates. And getting marooned on a tiny, tropical island with a VERY naked Adam Sinclair.

  Jemma could hear the ticking of the clock on the wood paneled wall and started to wonder if he actually was a mind reader. Then he cleared his throat and she dropped her gaze to her dictation pad. “I would like you to take a memo. To--” he paused, and Jemma looked up expectantly. “Miss Jemma Jones, secretary to Mr. Adam Sinclair of Sinclair Consulting.”

  Jemma’s pencil stopped before it barely touched the paper. What? He was dictating a memo to her? She could feel heat on her cheeks and hoped he didn’t notice.

  After a slight hesitation, he continued. “Miss Jones, it has come to my attention that you are due for a lunch break. Would you care to have lunch with me today?”

  Jemma stopped moving the pencil across the pad. Mr. Sexy Sinclair was asking her to lunch? Her heart started racing. Calm down, she told herself. It must be a business lunch. Maybe he wants to give you a performance review.

  She slowly raised her head and looked at him. He gazed steadily back at her, his eyes smoky with desire. She tried to sound casual as she replied, “Yes, sir,” but wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

  “Good.” His face lit up with a wolfish grin. His eyes lingered on hers until he added, "I thought we could go to the Italian place on State Street. Do you know it?”

  “I’ve been there once or twice,” she replied, still trying to process what was happening. The boss she had drooled over for eighteen months wanted to have lunch with her! She was glad she had worn a flattering navy blouse and skirt combination that clung to her slightly curvy figure. Usually she ate sandwiches in the nearby park with a book or magazine for company.

  “Since it’s almost lunch time, why don’t we leave now?” Adam asked smoothly, standing and moving toward her.

  “Okay,” Jemma replied, her fingers trembling slightly. She stood and walked to her desk, putting down the dictation pad and pencil and grabbing her purse. She commanded her heart to stop beating so quickly, or else she was going to have a heart attack. Not once in the eighteen months she had worked for Adam Sinclair had she thought he returned her interest, despite the occasional glances he gave her. His eyes held a sensual allure that sent shivers down her spine even while her brain told her body not to be so ridiculous. Adam Sinclair could have any woman he wanted. Why on earth would he desire her?

  “And he probably doesn’t,” she muttered to herself.

  “What was that?” The pulse-stirring growl was close to her ear.

  Jemma started, not having heard him sneak up on her. “Nothing, sir.” Her throat was dry. She tried to smile but didn’t think she succeeded.

  “If you’re ready, we can go.” He stood so close to her that she could smell his scent; clean and fresh with a hint of spice. She drew in a quick breath, and then he stepped back to let her walk around her desk.
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  Jemma preceded him out of the office. He held open the door and walked alongside her as they made their way to his car. She liked how he shortened his stride to match hers; it let her sneak a peek at his tall, muscular frame. The fabric of his jacket almost brushed her arm and her spine tingled in response to his close proximity. She was too preoccupied with her racing thoughts to try to make conversation, though. What if he wasn’t happy with her performance? What if he was going to fire her? Maybe he was trying to soften the blow by giving her lunch first before delivering the bad news.

  When Adam opened the door of his black Lexus, she got in nervously, her hand almost grazing his. She jerked it back, blushing hotly and hoping he wouldn‘t notice. It would be too incredible that he was inviting her to lunch because he was interested in her. Why would he be? She had boring light brown, shoulder length hair, brown eyes, and a girl-next-door face. It wasn’t as if she was a stunning blond with big breasts and a look-at-me personality.

  He didn’t make much conversation on the way to the restaurant. Jemma was worried she was going to blurt out her fears about being fired. Sometimes at work they had enjoyable conversations about what they had each done on the weekend and it almost felt like flirting; those ocean blue eyes pinning her with their gaze, but then he would slip back into boss mode and she would return her focus to her work.

  Zappoli's restaurant was one of those cheesy, romantic diners straight out of a Cary Grant movie. The tables were covered with red-and-white checkered cloths, and ancient bottles of vino, dripping with candle wax from countless secluded diners, flickered cheerfully at the center.

  Jemma’s toes curled as Adam’s hand connected with the small of her back, guiding her toward a cozy little booth near a magnificent view of the river.

  “Order whatever you like, Jemma. I want you to enjoy this lunch,” he said, his eyes intent on her face.

  Her heart sank. He looked so serious. She had been right. Mr. Sexy Sinclair was either going to give her a bad performance review or fire her. This was just his way of trying to make it a little easier.

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured.

  “I think you can call me Adam while we’re having lunch." She gazed at him furtively through lowered lashes. Why did he have to be so gorgeous? She loved the dimple that appeared in his right cheek when he smiled. But he wasn’t smiling now. Instead, his eyes looked at her hungrily, as if she were a tasty morsel he couldn’t wait to devour.

  “Yes ... Adam,” she replied softly.

  Jemma ordered the tortellini while Adam chose the pasta primavera. He guided the conversation so they talked about current work projects, favorite restaurants and classic movies but she kept wondering when the axe was going to fall. At dessert, when they both ordered the tiramisu, she wished he would just put her out of her misery and tell her the reason he asked her to lunch.

  They had almost finished their coffee. Jemma was still mystified about why Adam had invited her to dine with him.

  “Adam--” Jemma hesitated, then plunged in, “why did you ask me to lunch?” She was almost afraid to look at him while she waited for his answer.

  He raked his hand through his dark hair. “It’s actually a date,” he admitted.

  Her eyes widened. “I thought you were going to fire me and that’s why you asked me to lunch.”

  “Why would I fire you? You’re great at your job.”

  Jemma smiled in relief. Then Adam’s words sank in. “A date?”

  “Yeah. But obviously not a very good one if you didn’t realize.”

  “No! I mean--”

  “Jemma, we’ve been working together for eighteen months. I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Then you had a boyfriend and I didn’t feel I could say anything. When I realized you’d broken up with him I didn’t want to be the rebound guy.”

  “You wouldn’t have been,” she murmured. ”It wasn’t serious with Mitchell.”

  "Good.” He reached across the table for her hand and she shyly gave it to him. His warm, strong fingers gently caressed hers and a tingling of excitement ran through her. “I’d like to see you socially, Jemma.” She could see desire in his eyes as he added, “I think we could have a lot of fun together.”

  “I’d like that,” she admitted, excited that her fantasy was coming true. Mr. Sexy Sinclair wanted to date her! Her pussy quivered as she looked into his eyes.

  He grinned, then sobered and squeezed her hand. “I want you to know upfront that if this doesn’t work out between us and we find we can’t work together anymore, I’ll make sure you get a similar job elsewhere with at least the same salary.”

  Jemma nodded, appreciative that he was so thoughtful. One of the drawbacks to dating your boss, even if he was totally sexy, was the possibility that it could end unhappily. Then she’d either have to find employment elsewhere or quit without having another job to go to. Adam’s reassurance that she wouldn’t lose out financially, especially in this economy, made the decision to become involved with him even easier.

  “Thank you,” she murmured and looked into his ocean blue eyes. Her pulse quickened and she pressed her hand against his, enjoying the spark of electricity.

  Adam's eyes smoldered as he gazed at her for a long moment. “Are you ready to go?” He dragged his eyes away from her and looked at his gold Burberry watch. “I know I’m the boss, but I guess we better get back to the office sometime this afternoon.”

  “Sure,” Jemma replied, although she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that they were returning to work so soon.

  He grinned wickedly at her as they walked to his car and she nervously touched a lock of her hair, desire dampening her panties once more. She’d never dated a co-worker before, let alone her boss and wasn’t sure of the correct protocol - if there was one - regarding dates during work hours.

  They talked more easily in the car on their way back to the office. Was this really happening to me, she wondered as they neared the office building. Have I really started dating Mr. Sexy Sinclair?

  Adam parked the car and took her hand as they entered the building. “I guess we should establish some ground rules,” he said as he led her into his inner office and closed the door. He put his arms around her waist as they stood face to face. “First, you can call me Adam in the office. And second, we should try to be professional while we’re working.” He smoothed back a wisp of her hair that touched her cheek. “Unless we can’t control ourselves.” He flashed a grin at her. “Sound fair?”

  "Yes ... Adam,” she replied, breathless at his proximity. His hands on her waist felt wonderfully sexy. Her pulse hammered madly in her throat. Did he have any idea how he affected her?

  “Good,” he murmured as he slowly bent his head. His lips touched hers softly, before he deepened the kiss. “I haven’t been thinking about anything else since this morning,” he muttered. “In fact, since you started working for me.”

  His lips covered hers once more and Jemma gave herself up to his kiss and the incredible sensations it aroused in her. His arms tightened around her waist and his lips trailed down her neck to the top button of her blouse. She breathed in shakily, glad he was helping to support her. The reality of kissing Mr. Sexy Sinclair was far, far better than any of her fantasies.

  His fingers unfastened the buttons of her blouse until it fell open, exposing her black satin bra to his gaze. She suddenly felt glad she wasn’t wearing her ancient, graying but incredibly comfortable bra as she would have been mortified.

  Adam caught his breath at the sight of her aroused nipples trying to push through the satin fabric. He slowly unhooked the front clasp of her bra and cupped her rounded breasts in his large hands. “Beautiful,” he murmured huskily as his palms grazed her nipples.

  Jemma clung to his waist for support and closed her eyes as the sensations of his hands on her breasts rippled down to her lower body. She could feel her panties getting damp from her arousal, which only heightened her excitement.

  He trailed soft, sensuo
us kisses from her neck to the top of her breasts. She slowly opened her eyes in case this was just a dream, and any second now the alarm would go off, and she would wake up alone but all she saw was Adam with a look of pure desire on his face, still teasing her nipples with gentle fingers.

  “Ohh,” she moaned. Had her months of celibacy made Adam’s touch so incredible? Or was the pleasure all Adam, caressing her breasts?

  He took her left nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. A rush of liquid heat melted her body. Jemma squeezed her thighs together, hoping this would help alleviate the needy demands of her clit, but it made her feel even more frustrated. She needed Adam. She needed to feel him inside her and most of all, she needed to climax.

  He turned his attention to her right nipple and took it into his mouth with tantalizing possessiveness. She gasped as he sucked her taut bud. His teeth grazed her nipple, and her head fell back. “So good,” she whispered. She loved it when her breasts received plenty of attention, and Adam seemed to be an expert.

  His mouth left her breast and returned to her lips. He slanted his mouth over hers, and their tongues met and entwined. “God, I want you,” he said raggedly when he finally ended the kiss.

  “Yes,” she murmured, her hands still clutching his waist.

  “Are you sure?” His eyes searched her face.

  “Yes,” she repeated tremulously before dragging his head down to hers. “You’re not the only one who’s thought about this for a while.”

  Jemma kissed him with a pent-up passion that surprised even herself. Dreaming and fantasizing about this for so long had made her bolder than she usually was. She’d never had sex on the first date before (or even the third!) but all she could think about was Adam thrusting into her, pounding into her, and the skin-against-skin sensation as their naked bodies surged against each other.

  He slowly walked her over to the sofa in the corner of his office. She felt the buttery softness of the leather seat against the back of her legs as he slid off her blouse and then her bra. He kissed each nipple, and she shivered slightly as her pussy quivered with need.