Daddy Boss (A Boss Romance Love Story)

by Bishop, Claire

  “I’m done,” Everly said as she opened the door. I turned and finished my bourbon.

  “Do you want to watch any of the street shows?” I asked, but as she exited the bedroom, the words died on my lips.

  Everly stood in the doorway almost naked, save for one of my ties strapped around her neck and in between her breasts. One hip was resting against the door, the other playing with her smooth stomach and trailing circles on her skin.

  “I think I’d rather stay in tonight,” she said and crossed the room. Her lips pressed hard against mine, and her fingers began to unbutton my shirt.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Everly

  His glass of bourbon spilled onto the floor as I kissed him. I pulled away and tried cleaning it, but he shook his head and held my waist close to his.

  “Don’t,” he said. I unbuttoned the rest of the shirt and slipped it off of his strong arms. His hands slid up and down my naked body, pressing hard against my skin as our lips played with one another.

  “It’ll stain,” I said and bit his bottom lip. He gasped and flipped me around roughly, my back pressed against his.

  “Good.” He growled in my ear and kissed my neck. I couldn’t contain my breathing; it was rough and shallow as he slipped a hand in between my thighs. His other hand cupped my breasts and massaged them, twisting the nipples until I was squirming in his arms.

  He pushed me until we were in the bedroom, and he shoved his suitcases onto the floor. Clothes spilled out, fancy and expensive suits. I reached toward them, but he grabbed the tie that hung in between my breasts and forced me onto the bed.

  “The only thing I’ve wanted all day was to taste you,” he said. I was leaning on my elbows staring down as he crawled toward my body. “You have no idea how badly I wanted that.”

  “That’s the only thing you wanted?” I teased. His hand pushed against my chest until I was lying down, his head in between my thighs.

  “You, naked, sprawled on my bed, is the only thing I can think of.” He trailed his hot mouth down my thigh, planting tiny kisses as he went, and then his mouth neared the juncture of my parted thighs, and his tongue darted out, flattening against me. I gasped and dug my fingers into the bed. He tasted me like he had been dying of thirst, sucking and licking and flicking his tongue on my most sensitive parts. I cried loudly, the euphoria washing over me in waves of pleasure. He didn’t slow down, in fact, he seemed as if he was only gaining speed.

  But the moment my hips started to thrash and I was close to my release, he stopped abruptly and stood from the bed.

  “Turn around,” he ordered. I hesitated for a split second, and Maddox growled. He slipped his hand around beneath my waist and forcefully turned me onto my stomach. “That’s better.”

  The more he commanded and took charge, the wetter I became. His hand cupped my sex, and it seemed even he could tell just how much he was affecting me. He pulled my hips toward him while keeping my head pressed low against the bed.

  “Tell me, were you fantasizing about this as well?” he asked, a low guttural sound in my ear.

  “Every single night,” I said. “I thought about being in bed with you every single night.”

  “Before we first made love?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. I felt his thick rod press against my ass. He was hard and thick, and I began squirming just thinking about him inside of me.

  “This is what you want, right?” he asked. I nodded, and a swift hand slapped my ass and squeezed it. He took control, squeezing my hips as he plunged deep inside of me. He didn’t take his time. He wasn’t slow, comforting, loving this time. His rhythmic motions were fast and hard. I pushed my head into the bed and cried as wave after wave of pleasure hit my body. This wasn’t making love; this was a raw, deep need that Maddox was exploring with me.

  We both needed to feel powerful, in control, and as he found his power, I found my release again and again, in a neverending cycle of pleasure.

  His strong arms flexed as he twisted my body toward him, and picked me up from beneath my thighs. I straddled him, grinding my sex against his, and he pushed my body against the wall as he entered me again. He carried me to the entertainment room, where he shoved the bottles of wine and bourbon off of the front bar and sat me on it, all the while still inside of me.

  He moved us to every spot in the hotel, making sure that nothing was left out, until we ended at the window overlooking the neon signs of Las Vegas. He held me tightly and moaned loud in my ear, and I felt his stiff member twitch inside of me. My head turned to the side, my gaze spreading over streets full of tourists and street shows, as Maddox released his energy and passion into me. His hips buckled, pressing me even more against the glass, and his hands clenched tightly; one on my neck, the other on my ass.

  He finished, but he didn’t let me go. I panted hard against his chest as we took a moment to stare at the beautiful scene just outside our room. His lips nibbled on my earlobe almost absentmindedly, until he finally sat me down.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes full of concern. I laughed; I couldn’t help it. We were still covered in sweat and our juices, there was a bruise forming on my ass, and I probably was going to have wet dreams of Maddox grabbing my hips and pushing himself inside of me with such force, and yet he was concerned about my well-being?

  “I’m perfect,” I said. “Maybe a little sore.”

  He chuckled, and we cleaned ourselves up. He poured us a glass of wine from one of the few bottles that remained, and we stood in front of the window watching the street shows.

  “We can go see them tomorrow night, if you’d like?” Maddox suggested. “Unless you’re curious to see how my socks would look on your naked body?”

  I laughed. “Maybe I’ll save that for breakfast.”

  He seemed to find trouble with his next words. “Would you like to stay the night in my room?”

  “Are you sure?” I looked at him searching his eyes for uncertainty. “You’re paying for it, and I wouldn’t want it to be wasted.” He smirked and gave me a condescending look. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t get the bill. Then sure, I’d like that.”

  We got ready for bed together, and I ended up in his arms. My head rested on his chest, his arms tight around me as if we were made to fit, a perfect match.

  “You know what?” I said, my voice hoarse and low from exhaustion.

  “What?” The vibration of his voice melted into my back with his warm breath.

  “I’m happy I found you,” I said. In the morning, I would blame the confession on all the wine and endorphins.

  Maddox tightened his hold on me. “And I’m happy I won that bid,” he said. I laughed.

  I thought of how nervous I was for the auction, how I thought I’d end up with some nasty old man who would try to take advantage. This was much different considering I was lying next to the winning bidder now. “Was it worth the 20,000?” I asked.

  “Every cent and then some,” he said. I listened to his soft breathing and the sounds of the city around us as he drifted to sleep, and I joined him shortly after, content in his arms and never wanting it to end.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Maddox

  I was still waiting patiently in a stiff chair nearly 30 minutes past the scheduled end for the last meeting of the day. We had gone over the numbers and figures of my chain of restaurants, and I had just introduced the new dish that would be served in all the restaurants in just a few months’ time. They seemed to enjoy the idea, and more so, loved how cheap it would be.

  I checked my watch for the millionth time. Everly was waiting at the room to be picked up for dinner, and I had sent her a quick text 20 minutes ago apologizing for the delay. I wasn’t worried that she would angry, but I was sure there was at least a million other things she’d rather be doing than waiting in a hotel room.

  The meeting finally ended, and I shook hands with several of my investors.

  “Congratulations,” they took turns saying. “
The new dish is going to be a hit.”

  I smiled politely and told each of them that a fantastic chef gave me the idea, and that all the congrats should go toward her.

  The meeting was set in a part of the hotel on the other side of the casino, at least a 15-minute walk. I made sure my pace was quick and hurried past the casino floor with hundreds of slot machines and bars tucked away in the corners. Beautiful women dressed in very minimal clothing attempted to greet me, but I politely waved them off and focused my thoughts. Everly and I had enjoyed the morning in bed together. I had run my fingers down her naked body for what felt like hours, admiring her soft skin and sharp curves, and she had enjoyed teasing me until I reached my limit and took her from behind as she tried brushing her teeth.

  The morning was perfect, sensual, and I couldn’t imagine spending another morning without her at this point.

  I reached the room 45 minutes later than planned.

  “There you are,” Everly said, as she lounged on the chair. She didn’t look upset, merely bored.

  “These meetings never go as planned,” I said. “I’m sorry I made you wait.”

  “It’s okay.” She turned off the television. “The local news here is just as entertaining as a murder flick.”

  I laughed. “That’s awful.”

  She was dressed in a tight black dress that hugged her thighs and knees and plunged deep down her chest, with her red hair tied up in a messy bun with loose strands framing her face. I was already wearing a formal business suit in tones of gray and black, and together we looked as if we owned the casino itself.

  “Where’s this dinner at?” she asked as she checked her phone. She had complained earlier about her sister nonstop messaging her since we arrived in Las Vegas.

  “At a casino across the street,” I said. “SW Steakhouse.”

  Everly gasped. “No.” She threw her phone back in her purse and checked her makeup in a compact mirror. “It’s impossible to get in there; it’s booked solid for months, if not a year. Plus, that water show? I’ve dreamt of eating there.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m friends with the chef, then,” I said and held the door open for her. “But we should get going; the reservation was for 20 minutes ago, and I don’t want to push our luck too much.”

  She nearly ran out the door and looked back at me as she hurried down the hall.

  “Then get going, Maddox!” she yelled. I laughed and followed her through the casino. As we hit the busy Las Vegas street, I slowed her down by grabbing her hand and gently pulling her beside me.

  “Our table isn’t going anywhere,” I said. Everly’s eyes were wide as she took in the several hundred tourists scurrying around us.

  Giant buildings, all themed differently, lined the street, and just getting to the sidewalk was almost like walking through its own miniature downtown. Everly was distracted by the shops full of expensive decorative items, and she was tempted by the small bars that offered cocktails to go. I reminded her that the restaurant would have plenty of drinks for us, and we made our way across the street over a bridge.

  “It feels amazing,” she said and tipped her head toward the sky. The sun was beginning to set, and shadows were forming on the streets, but there was still a warmth to the Las Vegas air that helped the small goosebumps on Everly’s shoulders. I brushed my fingertips over them, and she shuddered.

  “You should have brought a wrap,” I said. “The casinos are always air-conditioned and 15 degrees colder than it is outside.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Anything is better than Seattle weather.”

  We entered the Wynn through the front, passing by several tourist shops before finding the casino floor. Everly slipped 10 dollars into a slot machine and quickly lost it all.

  “Can’t win them every time,” I said. She huffed and followed me as we circled around the casino floor toward the back of the building. We pushed through several groups of drunks with cigarettes dangling in their fingers. Everly scrunched up her nose.

  “It’s weird being surrounded by smoke,” she whispered close to me. A man sitting at a poker table slid his eyes over her body, and I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her into my arms.

  “You get used to it,” I murmured, and moved us away from the leering stranger.

  The entrance of the restaurant was nestled away in a corner, nearly hidden unless you knew where to look for it. I introduced myself to the hostess just as she was about to turn us away, and a sudden pink blush flushed across her cheeks.

  “Oh, of course, Mr. Moore. If you’ll follow me to your table?” She nodded in Everly’s direction and entered the restaurant. We followed her, passing by a room of people dressed in the richest of fashion and tables of clean white linen topped with bottles of top shelf alcohol and 100 dollar steaks.

  The hostess led us into a half circular room that didn’t have as many tables. Ours was against a low glass wall that opened into a beautiful view of a water garden. The light breeze from thick, green trees welcomed us as we took our seats, and Everly placed her hand on the glass wall.

  “You got us a table right at the water show,” she breathed, staring at the view. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “It’s the best table in the whole restaurant,” I said. “You were right before, in a way, that this place is booked for months. But this table is the only table that’s booked for years at a time.”

  “When did you reserve it?” she asked. I smiled.

  “Three days ago.” She laughed.

  “Stop bragging,” she teased. A waiter stopped by and topped our glasses with water, and took our order for drinks.

  We both ordered wine and our glasses were filled within the minute.

  “Everyone loved your new dish,” I said as she examined the menu. Her eyebrows shot up as she glanced at the prices. I had forgotten that this steakhouse even showed their pricing publicly.

  “Oh, really?” she stammered and set the menu down. “Maddox, this place is way too expensive.”

  I grinned. “Don’t worry; it’s worth every penny.”

  “Let me guess,” she tilted her head. “You don’t even see the check?”

  I shrugged.

  “You’re impossible.” She laughed and glanced at the menu again. “I’m happy that they liked the idea though; are you going with it for sure?”

  “Of course,” I said. “And I was hoping you could create the recipe and make the sample dish.”

  Everly’s jaw dropped, and she looked at me with those bright green eyes.

  “Are you saying I could set a platter that’s going to be served in all of your four-star restaurants?” she asked. The wine was already spreading a pink haze over her cheeks, and she was smiling a lot more than usual.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Our waiter arrived to take our dinner order, and I allowed Everly to go first. Unsurprisingly, she picked the cheapest item on the menu: a peppercorn shrimp scampi. I chuckled slightly as my turn arrived.

  “The shrimp scampi will be on the side for us,” I said, and Everly opened her mouth to intervene. “We’ll have two four-ounce Wagyu, Kobe, from the Hyogo Prefecture, if you still have it. Tenderloin,” I said, and the waiter nodded. “Let’s add the Hudson Valley Foie Gras while we’re at it, as well.”

  He left, and Everly pressed the back of her hand against her cheek.

  “Maddox, that’s like 600 dollars’ worth of steak,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten more than 100.”

  “You can’t eat at a steakhouse and not eat the steak,” I said. “Plus, in order to be a great chef, you have to experience it all. How do you expect to prepare 300 dollar steaks if you’ve never eaten them?”

  “Well, I never really expected to get that high up in the chain,” she admitted. “A seaside diner that serves fresh fish is about as far as I’ll probably get.”

  “I had that attitude once,” I said. “For a semester in college, and then something just snapped, and I realized that
I wouldn’t be happy unless I owned an entire chain of restaurants. And now, here I am.” I gestured around us. The water show just over the fence beside our table was beginning to start, a stunning choreographed and complex display of water jets that danced and spiraled in the air to a soft and uplifting tempo. Everly watched it as lights from the show reflected off her face. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. I drank her in like a warm brandy, and I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of her taste.

  “Here you are,” she muttered as the show approached its finale.

  Our wine was refilled, a bread basket arrived, and a plate of steaming shrimp scampi helped set off the bitterness of the bourbon that had been delivered to me.

  “You didn’t order that,” Everly said as I sipped it.

  “No, but I usually do,” I said and instructed our server to send my appreciation to the kitchen.

  Everly shook her head and ripped off a piece of a bread. She spread a smooth layer of truffle butter over it and popped it in her mouth. Her shoulders slumped as she closed her eyes.

  “Even the bread and butter are amazing,” she said. She quickly repeated the routine and had another bite.

  “Wait until you get the steak,” I said.

  It arrived shortly afterward, and Everly dove into hers. The cut was perfect, with a juicy pink strip and charred sides, and she made inappropriate moans as she chewed. I tightened the hold on my knife as Everly bit the bottom of her lip. I wondered how long it would take to return to the hotel room.

  Our dessert was a sample platter: two cheesecakes, three truffles, and a chocolate bar. We each tried the cheesecakes and a truffle, and ordered the rest to be sent to our room.

  “They’ll do that?” Everly asked. “Even though it’s at a different casino?”

  “Of course they will,” I said. We finished our meal, and she slipped her hand into mine as we made our way through the Wynn.

  “There’s a pirate show, isn’t there?” she asked. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”