Ego Trip: A Cocky Boss Romantic Comedy

by Tabatha Kiss

  He’s my boss...

  but also...

  I touch down his body, urging him to take me. I cup his rear, shamelessly fondling him as he kisses my neck. He reaches between us, guiding his cock until I feel the thick tip parting me again...

  One inch and I let out a gasp. Another inch and my senses dissolve. Every aching nerve screams for him as he enters me, and I remember exactly what it feels like to be his again.

  I lift my knees a little more. I hook my ankles together behind his back. I feel him go deeper, so deep it hurts. I dig my nails into his sides, his arms, his ass. I hold on to him as he thrusts and grinds our bodies together. A moan tumbles off my lips and Oliver steals it with a firm kiss, quickly claiming it as if it were precious.

  “Oli,” I whisper as our lips touch.

  Oliver shifts slightly, just enough to take hold of my hands. He pins them down, pressing hard as the rhythmic pulse of his hips matches the throbbing of my clit. He locks on me with those icy blue eyes. I see pleasure within them, a deep and cruel longing, as if this were what he always wanted all along.

  Was this what I wanted, too?

  Oliver pauses, still so deep. His breath quickens, little rushes of heat against my skin, and he rests his forehead on my shoulder. I kiss him on the temple, tasting his sweet sweat on my lips.

  After a moment of peace, he pushes himself up on his hands and towers over me. He pulls out, but keeps his tip at my entrance and begins softly rocking back and forth in a shallow, aching tease.

  “You feel...” he says, his voice a low growl, “so good.”

  I place my hands on his chest, wanting to pull him back to me, but he doesn’t budge. He keeps his distance, our bodies connected only by throbbing, wet thrusts. In and out. In and out. Never going deeper than the edge of his crown.

  I quiver. I shake. I break.

  “Shh,” he whispers. “Look at me.”

  I obey. I gaze back at him as his smirk rises. I touch his hips with my feet, a hopeless effort to force him deeper, but he never gives me more. He’s in full control of me, my pleasure, and my pain.

  And there’s nothing I can do but take it.

  Oliver pinches my chin. “Look at me,” he says again as I accidentally close my eyes. “Don’t look away.”

  I gasp, taken by a full body tremble that curls my toes, but I keep my eyes on him.

  His thumb glides along my bottom lip, slipping into my open mouth.

  “I want to watch you come,” he says.

  I moan around his knuckle. I lick and suck his thumb, fueling the fire in me.

  Still, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t go any deeper. He rocks back and forth, his hips angled to push against my inner walls in just the right way.

  My pulse pounds.

  My pussy tightens.

  My body submits completely to him, just like before.

  “Oli,” I moan as I crumble.

  Oliver says nothing.

  He just keeps fucking me.

  I don’t blink as I come.

  I bite down on his knuckles.

  I dig my heels into his sides. I squeeze him from the inside so he feels exactly what he’s done to me.

  I haven’t come like this since...

  Since him.

  As my body turns to jelly, my legs fall to the bed. I relax completely, sinking into the mattress as Oliver touches me. My neck. My breasts. My quivering thighs. It’s warm and sensual, but firm and possessive at the same time. He’s in control, and he wants me to know it.

  He’s the boss.

  And I’m his.

  Oliver leans over to kiss my belly, leaving a trail of soft kisses up my body until he reaches my lips. I kiss him, offering the only delicate reward I can give in my current state.

  He chuckles as he takes hold of me. He lifts me up so easily and props me up on his lap. I wrap my arms and legs around him, clinging to a man I swore not to touch ever again.

  He enters me. A quick burst of pleasure races through me, rousing my body out of its numb state.

  I push closer, magnetically drawn to him, until he fills me completely. I whimper against his lips, stealing kiss after kiss as my hips move.

  Slow and steady, I reawaken. I do what feels good, following nothing more than pure instinct to fuck.

  I need this.

  I need him and his body.

  I want him to take me and break me and make me forget about everything that’s outside of this room.

  Carpe diem.

  Oliver digs his fingers into my back.

  He bites the flesh of my shoulder and groans for me.

  His eyes pinch closed. His breath quickens.

  I prop a hand back on his knee, panting and moaning. He draws my nipple into his mouth and bites down. Hard.

  I relish in the pain, the pleasure. The cruel warmth of his embrace. The targeted ache in my muscles.

  But I don’t stop.

  I won’t.

  I can’t.

  Our heat blends. Our tongues knot. He holds me hard enough to leave bruises, but still I refuse to relent. I want nothing more than to unravel this tension that binds us together.

  Oliver curls his hand around my hair. He holds it taut, forcing me to bear my neck to him. He kisses my throat, dragging his teeth and growling in my ear.

  “Keep going,” he whispers. He sucks on my earlobe. “Show me how good you are.”

  I moan. I whimper. I obey.

  I fuck until I can’t anymore. Until my core screams and my eyes fill with tears.

  Oliver wraps a strong arm around me and pulls me in, keeping his cock so deep inside. He kisses me and it’s like our first all over again. He holds me and it’s like I never left his arms in the first place.

  “You’re so fucking good,” he whispers.

  He lies me down on my stomach and slides a pillow beneath me, propping my rear up as he positions himself behind me.

  I settle in place, feeling his hands wandering up and down my back, wanting him to enter me again. I’m so close. So sensitive. His shaft slides along my wetness, rubbing and grinding and teasing. Moans spill off my tongue. I say his name repeatedly as I wait.

  I want.

  I need.

  Oliver leans forward, nudging the crown of his cock inside. He kisses up my spine, burrowing deeper, and I can’t help but gasp. The angle is so tight; I feel everything as his swollen head pounds inside.

  Hard. Slow.

  Merciless.

  “Paige,” he whispers, so close to my ear. He reaches around me, curling his fingers around my throat.

  I react to it, arching my back and turning my head. His mouth presses against mine, rough and wild. He grunts with each thrust.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, surprising me.

  My chest tingles. I nod, barely able to speak.

  “Do you want me to slow down?”

  I shake my head. I moan, a sound meant to be a resounding no, and he grins with delight.

  “Do you want me to fuck you harder?” He pounds me from behind. “Hm?”

  I gasp as a delicate elixir of pain and pleasure nearly sends me over the edge.

  “Faster?” he adds. “How badly do you want it?”

  “Yes,” I manage.

  “Say my name and I’ll give you everything.”

  “Oli.”

  He claims one last lingering kiss before holding me down. He fucks me. He gives me everything, as promised. Every burning, aching reward.

  Ecstasy charges through me as I smother my face in the bedspread and scream. Climax washes over me. My entire body clenches, stealing my breath and stopping my heart.

  Oliver releases a final groan. He pulls out of me as he comes, spraying my ass and back with several quick bursts of cum.

  “Fuck,” he says, his deep voice echoing in my ear. “Good girl.”

  I shiver, throbbing with joy and rapture. I turn my head, guided by the firm pinch of his fingers on my chin.

  We kiss again, our hearts racing.

/>   We taste each other’s little moans, our bodies pressed together.

  We smile in a tender embrace, and time itself seems to stand still.

  But it can’t last.

  I ribbon of dread curls around my stomach, reminding me of who we are.

  Where we came from.

  Where we have to return to.

  Stupid post-orgasm clarity.

  Oliver rolls over onto his back. I pivot to face him and rest my head on the pillow beside him, staying on my stomach so I don’t ruin the nice bedding any more than we already have.

  We breathe together in silence. He touches my arm. I kiss his shoulder. For a second, I think that maybe I’m wrong.

  Maybe this can last.

  Oliver chuckles. “Now, that was fun,” he says.

  I breathe a laugh. “It was.”

  “Better than you remember?”

  “Yeah,” I answer. “You were...” I exhale hard. “Yeah.”

  He smiles. “I’m glad I could be there for you.”

  “Be there for me?”

  “For your first time,” he says. “In a while, I mean. I know you were nervous about getting back out there and let me tell you — as a friend — you might be out of practice, but you are not out of the game.”

  I squint in confusion as my chest clenches.

  We’re friends. Remember, Paige?

  Professional friends.

  “Right,” I drawl. “Right. Of course. Because... that’s what this was...”

  “And tomorrow night, I think we should go out again,” Oliver says. “Maybe start at the bar downstairs. Or go back to Ryan’s. I’m positive we can find you a Boston Blondie to ride around the block a few times.”

  I force myself to breathe. “Maybe...”

  Oliver sits up and reaches down to slap my rear. “Ass like this shouldn’t go to waste,” he says as he stands and walks into the bathroom.

  I linger on the bed with my mouth agape, though I’m not sure why I’m so surprised.

  This is who Oliver Black is.

  This is who he’s always been.

  He returns after a minute with a damp washcloth. I startle as I feel it touch my back and wipe away the evidence.

  “Does that tickle?” he teases.

  “No, just...” I push up as he finishes. “Cold.”

  I step off the bed in search of my clothes.

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “Uh...” I pull up my panties. I grab my jeans. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

  “Really?”

  “Early start tomorrow.” I nearly tumble as I fight my legs into my jeans. “Boston, day two. Big day.” I glance around in search of my sweater. “You should review your notes, too. You have a meeting with Angela at eleven.”

  “Paige.”

  I ignore him as I scoop my sweater off the floor and throw it on over my head.

  “Paige.”

  His voice is closer now. “I’m fine, Oliver,” I say.

  “I... didn’t ask if you were.”

  I turn to face him. Oliver stands a foot away from the bed, still very naked. He extends his hand forward with my bra dangling from one of his outstretched fingers.

  I snatch it from him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says. “Are you okay?”

  “I said, I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  I retrieve my coat from the floor and hide my bra within the inner pocket. “Goodnight, Oliver.”

  “Goodnight, Paige,” he says, his voice as stiff as his stare. “Thanks for showing me around Boston.”

  “Hey,” I say as I leave. “What are friends for?”

  Carpe fucking diem, right?

  Chapter 26

  Paige

  I tap the up arrow on the treadmill’s dashboard, increasing my already brisk pace to something a little more... urgent.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Outrunning my memories was already exhausting enough, even as faded as they were. Now, with Oliver’s kiss still so fresh on my lips, they’re outright impossible for me to outrun.

  I’m glad

  I could be there for you.

  I’m such a fucking idiot.

  I wipe the sweat off my brow as I stare out the window in front of my treadmill.

  The fitness center at the Boston location is near the top floor and offers fantastic views of the streets below. I watch the sporadic pedestrian and early morning car fly by as the sun rises. It’s nice and peaceful.

  At least, it would be if it weren’t for... you know.

  Ass like this

  shouldn’t go to waste.

  I won’t make that mistake again. That’s for sure. Our one-night stand became a two-night stand, but I’ll be damned if I let it become a three-night stand.

  Oliver Black, you’ve officially been friend-zoned. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To be such good friends…

  Fuck, I’m going to pass out.

  I slap the dashboard, fumbling for a moment on the unfamiliar interface to find the down arrow before my lungs explode.

  The tread steadily slows down and my music rises over the noise of the screaming machine once more. Hello again, Britney. Welcome back.

  I walk with a clunky stride until my pulse returns to a normal rhythm. A few more pedestrians pass down below. I wonder how many of them fucked their bosses last night.

  Ugh.

  I hit stop. That’s enough cardio for one day. Time to hit the showers, get dressed, go to work, and pretend like last night ever happened.

  I step off the treadmill and startle. There’s a man standing a foot or two behind me in the deserted gym with his hands in his pants pocket.

  Tucked-in dress shirt. Clean-shaven face.

  Icy blue eyes.

  “Oliver,” I say through clenched teeth as I yank my earbuds out. “You scared me...”

  “Sorry,” he says, not really sorry.

  “How long have you been standing there?!”

  “A while. You run really fast.”

  I grab my hand towel and bottle of water off the floor. “I’ve got a lot of energy,” I say.

  He nods in agreement as he checks me up and down.

  “You’re up early,” I say, flipping the focus onto him.

  “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

  I glance around the empty gym. “Are you going to get in a morning jog or...?” I ask before raising my bottle to my mouth.

  “No, I just knew you’d be here.” His throat clears. “Can we talk?”

  One gulp.

  Two gulps.

  Three gulps.

  Can’t stall forever.

  I will run out of water, eventually.

  “About what?” I ask as I dab my wet lips with the towel.

  Oliver cants his head. “Paige, clearly, I did something wrong last night,” he says.

  “No,” I blurt. “No, not at all.”

  “Really? Because a woman hasn’t leapt out of my bed that quickly since... ever.” His shoulders bounce. “Yeah, that’s never happened to me before.”

  “First time for everything, right?” I joke.

  He doesn’t react. “What’d I do?” he asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Paige, what did I do?”

  “Nothing,” I say again. “We had fun. I had fun. Did you have fun?”

  “Yes, I had fun.”

  “That’s it, then. There was fun to be had, and we had it, so… that’s that.”

  Oliver takes a breath. “Paige, how about you just cut the shit and tell me the truth?”

  I close my mouth, annoyed.

  “Okay,” I say, exhaling slowly while I find the right words. “It would seem... based on what you said before I left... that last night might have meant something different for you than it did for me.”

  “What did it mean for you?” he asks.

  Blunt.

  Almost b
usiness-like.

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly an opportunity to grease the old wheels for whatever random Blondie I encounter on business trips,” I say.

  He nods. “Okay.”

  “I slept with you because I wanted to be with you.” My words continue falling out. “I wasn’t looking for a wingman, so when you said that stuff about my ass not going to waste, I wasn’t in the mood for round two. It meant more to me than just some... casual fuck.”

  Again, he nods. “Okay.”

  I bristle. “I’m still processing how I feel about it. So, forgive me if I’m not making sense right now.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can I say something now?”

  I swallow, dreading the idea. “Okay,” I say.

  Oliver stares at me. “You never called me back.”

  “What?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

  “Four years ago,” he says. “You never called me back.”

  “What’s that have to do with anything?”

  “That night meant more to me than just some... casual fuck,” he says, quoting me. “But you pushed me away. So, my sincerest apologies, Ms. Landon, if I made you feel used.”

  He turns and walks out of the gym.

  I stand still with my mouth sagging open wide, taken back by his words.

  I made him feel used?

  That’s not what I did. That’s not what happened that night. He doesn’t know the full story and I...

  Hey, wait a minute.

  “Hey!” I shout as I march out of the gym.

  I spot Oliver at the end of the hallway a few paces away from the elevator.

  “I said, hey!”

  He stops and turns around to face me.

  I stomp toward him, aware of the echo my voice made off the walls. There are a few offices on this floor and I don’t want anyone to overhear this.

  “Is that what last night meant to you?” I ask, lowering my voice. “Getting me back for not calling you after a one-night stand?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “I didn’t use you, Oliver,” I say. “You seduced a dumped girl in a bar. Did you really expect for us to become anything more than that? Or is your ego so stupidly huge that you can’t even fathom the idea that a woman wouldn’t be into you for more than one night?”

  Oliver rolls his shoulders back. “No,” he answers.

  “Then, what did last night really mean to you?” I ask again.