Billionaire Bosshole: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance (Bedding the Billionaire Book 3)

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Billionaire Bosshole: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance (Bedding the Billionaire Book 3) Page 2

by Laura Lee


  “Ah, he does make great material,” Miss O’Hare laughed. “What about L.A. Singles?”

  “The dating app?” Miss Montgomery questioned. “I don’t know if online dating is really the right thing for me.”

  “Why not? It’s perfect for someone like you.”

  I could almost see Miss Montgomery’s brows pinching together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, calm down, Quinn. I was referring to how many hours you work. Online dating is pretty much the only way for busy professionals to meet someone outside of the workplace anymore. The only reason not to do it would be if you had your sights set on someone here.”

  “I don’t know...” Miss Montgomery hedged.

  “What harm would it do? Just download the app so you can at least browse the guys. You don’t need to make your profile public until you’re ready.”

  Miss Montgomery sighed. “Okay, fine. It’s downloading.”

  Her friend clapped. “We’re gonna get you laid by the weekend!”

  “I didn’t say I was going to contact anyone!”

  Miss O’Hare scoffed. “Sure you will. As beautiful as he is, masturbating to your boss cannot be your sole source of action. You need a real dick before the cobwebs set in. Now, what do you want your profile name to be?”

  “Is it really that important?”

  “Of course it is!” her friend insisted. “You need something intriguing. Something that suits you.”

  There was a moment of silence before Miss Montgomery spoke. I could imagine her sexy little smile as she said, “What about Egomaniacs-Need-Not-Apply?”

  Miss O’Hare snorted. “Oh my God, that’s perfect!”

  “Right? I only have room for one massively self-absorbed person in my life and that guy pays me a shit-ton of money to put up with him. I’m sure as hell not going to spend time with someone like that for free.”

  Both women laughed. I, however, hadn’t found her comment nearly as funny.

  “As fun as this is, I’ve gotta get back so I can think of some more slogans,” Miss O’Hare said.

  “God, he’s such an ass. That slogan is perfect.”

  “Meh, I’m used to it by now. When has he ever accepted anything on the first try?”

  “True,” Miss Montgomery agreed. “You wanna head downstairs with me to load up on caffeine first?”

  “Sure. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

  I waited until I was sure they were gone before exiting my office. Before I could think better of it, I winked at Miss Montgomery’s double take as I passed the coffee cart on my way out of the building. I wasn’t about to show my cards, but what was the harm in letting her sweat it out? If nothing else, it would teach her to guard her personal conversations more carefully while in the office.

  CHAPTER THREE

  QUINN

  If he didn’t pay me so much, I swear I would’ve quit on my first day. Okay, that was a lie; I worked damn hard to get this position and I intended to keep it for as long as it suited my goals. He may have been an insufferable asshole, but Ronan Maxwell was a brilliant businessman. You didn’t become the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar corporation if you weren’t. Sure, he inherited the role from his father, but he’d deserved it. In fact, I think because this was his family’s legacy, he worked even harder to prove himself.

  Not that he’d admit that. The bastard was far too cocky.

  Before me, Mr. Maxwell had a revolving door of EAs. No one lasted more than a few months because they couldn’t handle the stress. The man had ridiculously high standards, but he practiced what he preached, so I couldn’t really fault him for it. It was his delivery of those expectations that made me want to backhand him more often than not.

  Besides, I was too stubborn to give up. My mother always told me that I was the most pigheaded person she’d ever met. Little did she know at the time how valuable that particular trait would become. I’d learned so much from Ronan Maxwell over the last two years—things I didn’t need to know for my current position, but he’d taken the time to teach me anyway.

  Hospitality was never on my radar before because I was a numbers geek through and through, but now that I better understood the scope of it, I loved it. Putting up with my asshole boss gave me the best chance of success in this field.

  “Nice of you to finally show up. I thought at this point you had taken the rest of the day off.” I looked up, startled by the deep voice. Mr. Maxwell was standing in the doorway to my office that served as the antechamber to his.

  “Of course not, Mr. Maxwell.” My voice was sugary sweet but laced with arsenic. “I would never dream of doing such a thing without permission.”

  He folded his arms and leveled me with a glare. “What took you so damn long?”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “This is Los Angeles, sir. Traffic at any time of day is a nightmare. Since you decided to send me across town in the middle of the evening rush hour on a Friday, it was even worse. My apologies for not having the ability to steamroll over thousands of vehicles so I could return sooner.”

  I’d swear he was stifling a laugh. “I want the final travel itinerary for Hawaii on my desk by seven. And order some food from Emperor’s Dragon. I’ll have the Chicken Manchurian with a side of barbeque pork. Get something for yourself, too. We have a lot more to cover before the day is through.” With that, he spun on his heels, slamming his office door behind him.

  Ugh, I didn’t know what had crawled up his ass, but he’d been even worse than usual this week. I’d gone home no earlier than nine o’clock every evening. I foolishly thought that since it was Friday, he’d let me go at a reasonable hour. Instead, while everyone else was heading home for the weekend, I was stuck here with the biggest dick on the planet. Knowing him, I’d be lucky to get out of here before midnight.

  ***

  “Mr. Maxwell, did you hear what I said?”

  He blinked rapidly. “No.”

  What was wrong with him? He was the most observant man I knew. He was normally ten steps ahead of everyone else, in every situation. Tonight, he was abnormally quiet and staring off into space a lot. It was freaking me out.

  “I said, I really don’t think we should charge our guests for the luau. They’re paying at least five hundred dollars per night, which easily covers the expense. It should be a perk, like free continental breakfast.”

  “Miss Montgomery, correct me if I’m wrong, but you are rather a savant with numbers, correct?” Mr. Maxwell said, as if he thought I was adorably naïve. “And a Stanford graduate?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Were those rhetorical questions?”

  He raised an absurdly sexy eyebrow. “Why would I waste my breath uttering rhetorical questions?”

  “Because we both know you already know the answer to both of those questions.” I narrowed my eyes for emphasis.

  The bastard smirked as he stood up and rounded his desk. “Indulge me, if you will.”

  I sighed. “Yes, I am rather proficient with financial analysis and both my bachelor’s and MBA are from Stanford.”

  He leaned against the edge of the mahogany and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, as an Ivy League graduate, one could assume you were familiar with the concept that higher profits for any business was a good thing, correct?”

  White-hot visions of jamming my spikey shoe into his shin ran through my head.

  “Yes. Your point being?”

  “My point is that our target clientele can easily afford to pay admission to a luau. Why wouldn’t we want to increase our profits by charging them for it? Especially for one of this caliber? Plus, when have we ever offered a free meal service?”

  I was clenching my jaw so hard, I swore I was about to do permanent damage. I didn’t like the fact that he was looming over me so I rose from my chair and mimicked his posture. “Never.”

  “Exactly. Now, tell me, Miss Montgomery, what type of hotel chain does offer free continental breakfasts?”

  My bo
dy stiffened as I realized I was on the losing end of this debate. “Budget hotel chains.”

  He flashed a self-righteous grin. “Right again. And what type of hotel chain are we?”

  I had to consciously fight the desire to curl my fists. “We are a luxury hotel chain, sir. As you already know.”

  “Of course, I know.” He undid his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up. “But it seems like you need constant reminders lately.”

  “I can assure you that I do not.”

  I could feel my face flushing in anger and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Once I was this riled up, it was almost impossible to conceal my emotions. I was normally an expert at keeping my cool when Mr. Maxwell pushed my buttons, but insulting my intelligence was the exception to that, it seemed. It was a line he had never crossed before, so I was a bit off-kilter.

  He laughed mockingly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  Okay, that was the last straw. I had officially reached my limit. “You’re an asshole.”

  Holy shit! I couldn’t believe I’d just said that out loud.

  Mr. Maxwell’s ears reddened as he took a few steps toward me. “What did you say, Miss Montgomery?”

  I propped a hand on my hip. “You heard me.”

  He took one more step and gripped the edge of the desk on each side of me, effectively caging me in. “Let’s say I didn’t. Go ahead and repeat what you said. I fucking dare you.”

  Well, crap, there was no sense in backing down now. My pride wouldn’t allow it. I tilted my chin up and looked him directly in the eyes. “I said, you’re an asshole. Surely that’s not the first time someone’s called you that.”

  The look he gave me as he rolled my words around in his head was sinful. Predatory, even. I could feel the flood of arousal in my panties, but I remained aloof on the surface. It was probably only a handful of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as we engaged in a silent showdown. I didn’t know which one of us lunged first, but before I knew it, our lips were pressed against each other’s.

  I gasped when I felt his hand on my hip, which he took as an open invitation to invade my mouth with his tongue. After that, all hope of pretending this wasn’t happening was gone. Damn, Ronan Maxwell knew how to own a woman’s mouth. I’d imagined kissing him hundreds of times—maybe even thousands—but nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality. He teased me with his tongue, nibbled on my lips, commanded every move. He kissed like he did everything—with pure alpha male dominance. I had never been as willing to submit to someone’s will as I was now. As our mouths moved against each other’s, his thumb inched perilously close to my ass. Fingers clenched around the stretchy fabric of my skirt, as if he were resisting the urge to rip it off my body.

  God, I wanted him to rip it off of my body.

  I didn’t think I had ever wanted to mount someone and ride them off into the sunset as badly as I did now. A million thoughts raced through my head at once. What was he thinking? Did he feel the same jolt of electricity running through his veins? Why, after two years, did he decide to touch me? From the moment we met, this man had gone out of his way to avoid physical contact. This—whatever it was—was undoubtedly intentional. And as much as I hated to admit it, incredibly arousing.

  Mr. Maxwell’s hand wandered down the side of my thigh to the hem of my skirt. When his thumb glided from side to side over the back of my leg, shivers raced down my spine.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” his deep voice rumbled.

  “So many things,” I whispered.

  His hand climbed higher, dangerously close to discovering how wet my panties were. “Would you like me to stop?”

  My brain was screaming, Yes! Run out of the room, dumbass! while my head was shaking emphatically.

  “I need the words, Miss Montgomery.”

  My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew this was crazy. I knew this was stupid. But I couldn’t tell him to stop if my life had depended on it. “Don’t stop.”

  Mr. Maxwell released a harsh exhale. “Thank fuck.”

  When I met his gaze, his blue eyes were filled with questions, with unrestrained desire. I couldn’t sort out how I felt about that. I’d spent the last two years fantasizing about this man. Sure, some of those fantasies involved throwing my Jimmy Choos at his forehead, but mostly, they were sexual in nature. Deeply sexual in nature. Frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a dream.

  But then I remembered that my dreams never felt this real. I had never felt the warmth of his touch. Never smelled the spiciness of his cologne. Never heard my pulse pounding in my ears. No, this was very much happening, and I was an all-too-willing participant. Lord help me, but I was so on board with this plan, no matter how fucked up it was.

  Mr. Maxwell leaned into my body, causing me to bend slightly backward to maintain eye contact. Even wearing five-inch heels, the man still towered over me. Damn, he really was a giant. It was even more apparent standing so close to him.

  I braced my hands on the edge of his desk when he reached out with two fingers and traced the length of my jaw. He continued down the slope of my neck and across the width of my collarbone. When he feathered them against the side of my breast, I moaned, making his sexy lips curl up in the corners. With both hands now resting at the curve of my waist, Mr. Maxwell lifted me onto the wooden surface, causing my skirt to ride up my thighs.

  We both watched as he bunched the material in his hands, slowly pushing it toward my waist until my satin blue panties were revealed. My body was on autopilot, parting my legs without question, allowing him to look his fill. His breathing quickened and his eyes sparkled when he noticed the obvious wet spot.

  I bit my lip when he ran the pad of his thumb over the dampness. “Is this for me, Miss Montgomery? Is your pussy aching, begging for my mouth? My cock?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I whimpered when he slipped beneath the fabric and ran his finger down my slit.

  He gave me a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’d like that very much and I suspect you would, too.”

  “God,” I panted as he pushed one long finger inside me. I moaned shamelessly when he added another.

  He closed his eyes as he pumped in and out, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. From the sheer ecstasy on his face. From the fingers gliding in and out of my body. From the muscles bunching beneath his shirt. I was memorizing every minute detail in that moment, reveling in how incredible it felt.

  I must’ve been losing my mind, I’d decided. There was no other explanation for why I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. How did we even get to this point, I wondered? Two minutes ago, we were talking about luaus, and now, my boss was finger fucking me on his desk.

  Mr. Maxwell’s eyes snapped open. “Fuck. You’re so tight. So goddamn wet. If I had known you’d be this responsive, I would’ve done this a helluva lot sooner.”

  “Stop talking,” I whined.

  He released a throaty chuckle. “Make me.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Bastard.”

  He winked. “Never claimed not to be.”

  I growled in frustration. Fine, if he wouldn’t shut up, I would make him shut up. I grabbed his silver tie and yanked him down to my mouth. When he wouldn’t cooperate, I sucked on his pillowy lower lip.

  “Kiss me, goddammit.”

  He smiled against my lips. “So bossy.”

  I bit him this time, and he finally caved. Our kisses were not gentle. They were an erotic duel of sucking, licking, and biting. Mr. Maxwell continued fucking me with his fingers while rolling the pad of his thumb over my clit. He worked me over so well, my body had no choice but to climb higher and higher until I was freefalling into an abyss.

  When my inner muscles stopped clenching, he withdrew his fingers and pressed them against my lips, prompting me to open. I sucked them into my mouth down to the knuckle, locking eyes with him the entire time. God, this was such a lewd act, but it was also so erotic, I couldn’t find the will to ca
re. And with the way Mr. Maxwell was looking at me, I’d say he was just as turned on by it as I was.

  When he withdrew his fingers, I made quick work of his belt buckle and unzipped his slacks. My hand dove into his boxer briefs and grabbed onto his cock. Jesus, he was huge! Sylvie was right; the man was packing some serious heat.

  Mr. Maxwell groaned as I stroked his length.

  “Do you even know how to use this thing?”

  He gave me a wicked grin. “I’m going to make you regret that, wiseass.”

  I raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Go ahead. Put your money where your mouth is. Or in this case, your dick.”

  He retrieved a condom from his wallet and shoved my hand away to slide it down his shaft. Once he was fully sheathed, he moved my panties to the side and pressed the flared head against my entrance. “Last chance to back out, Miss Montgomery.”

  I scoffed. “Not happening. Show me what you’ve got.”

  He made a low, growly noise as he untucked my blouse and ripped it over my head. His hands slid up my ribcage, to my breasts, until he was moving his thumbs over my erect nipples through my bra. The combination of his rough touch and the lacy fabric was almost too much. I was on stimulation overload, yet I still couldn’t get enough. I pressed into his palms, demanding more.

  Losing patience, I leaned back on my elbows, dug my heels into his ass and pulled him forward. Mr. Maxwell took the hint and in one smooth motion, thrust deep inside of me. My moans echoed throughout the room, which should’ve been appalling to me, but it wasn’t, because he felt too good. Better than any man I’d ever been with. He instantly made me wild with lust. I screamed, I cursed, I shamelessly begged for more.

  He leaned over, fanning his arms to clear the surface, and set a punishing rhythm. I was vaguely aware of various desk items hitting the floor, but that was drowned out by the sound of our skin slapping together.

  “What’s that, Miss Montgomery? You want more?” His jaw clenched as he went deeper, harder. “It sure seems like I do know how to use this thing, doesn’t it? You’ve never had better dick.”

 

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