Resisting the Boss

by Humphreys, K. L.

  I smile, Clint doesn’t care what he says nor does he care who listens, he’ll call Jameson a bastard to his face. “He needs a check on a new client. Richard Hatch.”

  He makes a humming noise, “When does he need this by?”

  “Yesterday.” That’s the thing about Jameson, he demands everything to be done as soon as possible.

  “I’m on it, I’ll call when I have it done.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him and end the call, just in time as Jameson boards the plane.

  My breath hitches and I bite my lip as soon as my eyes land on him. Dear good God, this man might be an asshole but he’s a sexy one. As always he’s dressed in a tailored suit. Instead of having a buzz cut as he usually does, his hair is a little longer. His black hair almost curly, he must have missed his appointment with his barber. The man looks fantastic as per usual.

  “Mr Theroux,” I say politely even though I’m still annoyed. I was actually excited for my date this weekend, I’ve not had a date in over a year. Finally getting one set up, and he ruined it, yet again.

  His eyes rake over my body and they darken. The sexy gleam in his eyes makes me cross my legs.

  “Ms Evans.” His voice is deep and sends tingles throughout my body as it always does.

  I ignore my body’s reaction and inform him about the phone call I just had. “Clint said he’ll call me when he has the background check done.”

  He nods as he takes a seat, his eyes never leaving mine. “Lissa.” He calls out, and instantly the blonde woman appears. “Tell the pilot we’re ready and then bring me a whiskey, neat.”

  She practically curtsies, “Of course, sir.”

  She comes back within a couple of minutes with his drink in her hand. “Can I get you anything else, sir?” Her tone has completely changed, it was cold when she was talking to me and now it’s husky, and filled with lust.

  “No.” He dismisses her and an unintentional smile forms on my lips. “If I need anything else, I’ll call you.”

  The smile on her face instantly falls, “Of course, sir.” She walks away without asking me if I’d like anything, not that I’m surprised. This is what usually happens when I’m around Jameson, I become practically invisible.

  Closing my eyes as the plane begins to take off, my hands grip the arm rest. I don’t mind flying, I hate taking off and landing.

  “You okay?” The amusement in his voice pisses me off.

  “Dandy,” I reply, my voice tight. “May I ask why you never told me about this trip before today?”

  He’s silent for a bit, until the plane levels out and I finally open my eyes and study him, “I didn’t think I’d need you, until Marian called requesting a meeting.”

  I smile, “Are you scared of a middle-aged woman?” Whenever Marian comes to the office he always makes me pretend that he’s either in a meeting or not in the office. She barged into his office once before while he was in a meeting and began screaming at him. The woman has a few marbles loose. She believes that if she and Jameson work together they’d be richer than everyone in this world. She’s delusional. Jameson alone is the fifth richest in the world and he’s only twenty-six.

  “I’m not scared of anyone. That woman is a viper. I don’t trust her, hence why you’ll be recording. I don’t give a shit if the woman doesn’t like it. She can either tolerate it or there won’t be a meeting.” He takes a sip of whiskey, I focus on his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

  “Hmm, makes sense. Although, that woman is so desperate to spend time with you that she’ll take the meeting with you.”

  He raises his brow, I’m not usually this frank with him. “Yep.”

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  He smirks, “No, you’ll just have to wait and find out.” He says before his eyes rake over my body again. His scrutiny is starting to make me feel self-conscious. “What’s with the dress?” His eyes have dilated a bit and his tone is gruff and deep.

  Oh my God, my panties are wet! That look is absolutely hot.

  I gape at him, doing my best to hide how I’m truly reacting. The sexual tension in the air is making this massive cabin seem small. “I’m sorry?” I ask, hoping that I don’t sound as breathy as I feel.

  He flicks his finger in my direction. “Your outfit, you never usually dress like this.”

  I stare at him in shock, “Well considering I finished work almost three hours ago, it’s my personal time. I can wear whatever I want.” I’m proud of the sass in my voice.

  He glares at me, “Yes, but again, you don’t usually wear clothes like... That.”

  I close my eyes, trying my hardest not to get up off my seat and hit him because the way he said that last word was actually offensive. “How would you be familiar with what I wear when I’m not in your presence?” This man seriously gets to me and I have no idea why I let him.

  “I’m guessing,” he returns. “By what you wear to work. This...” he waves his hand in my direction, “is nothing like that.”

  I ignore his stupid comment, “How long is this flight?”

  His eyes narrow, “Four hours, why?”

  “Just trying to determine if I can figure out where we’re going.” I glance down when his eyes narrow further. Why do I get the feeling that he’s reprimanding me?

  “Did you bring your laptop?” His voice smooth and deep.

  Shit. “No, I didn’t.” I say softly, I knew I’d forget something.

  “Right,” He says through gritted teeth. “You do remember the conversation we had before don’t you?”

  I take a deep breath, “Yes, I’m supposed to bring my laptop with me when I’m working.”

  “Are you working?” He sneers.

  “Yes,” I sigh, mad at myself for forgetting the laptop, I should have double checked that I had everything before I left.

  “Now I’m going to have to wait until we land for you to begin work. What the hell am I paying you for?”

  He’s being an ass and I really don’t deserve his rudeness. I bite my tongue and stare out the window.

  “Ms Evans?” He calls out after a few minutes.

  “Yes, Mr Theroux?” I say sweetly, as much as I want to ignore him I can’t.

  “When we check in, I want you to book us in for dinner. As you don’t have your laptop, I’m going to have to get you something so that you can actually do what I pay you for.” He’s so snide, I hate this side of him, usually he’s bossy but in a good way, now he’s just being a bastard.

  “Okay, Mr Theroux, I’m sorry.”

  “Try and get some sleep, we’ve four more hours before we land.” He demands softly and the man is giving me whiplash with his mood swings. I do as he says and close my eyes and within minutes I’m drifting off to sleep.

  * * *

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” I scream as my thighs erupt in pain, a burning sensation. Opening my eyes I glance up at Lissa, her smile is one of triumph. My hands touch my thighs and I whimper, it’s boiling hot liquid.

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I tripped.”

  “What’s going on?” That deep angry voice sends shivers down my spine. Jameson’s here.

  “I tripped and spilled her coffee. It appears to have burned her.” Her voice doesn’t have an ounce of sincerity in it.

  “I thought she was asleep?” Jameson says coming to stand beside my chair.

  Lissa shrugs not saying a word, that stupid grin on her face.

  “Do you want another one?” he asks me as he takes a seat.

  “I didn’t ask for that one, why would I want another one?” My voice has a bite to it, the pain is excruciating.

  He raises his brow but doesn’t say anything to me, instead he flicks his hand, dismissing Lissa.

  I stand, needing to cool my legs down.

  “We’ll be landing soon,” he says gruffly.

  I ignore him and continue to walk toward the bathroom. I try and keep my walk as normal as possible, I can sense someone staring at me, the
heat of their gaze hot against my back. If it’s Lissa, I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’s hurt me.

  “Wendy sit down, we’ll be there in a few moments,” Jameson demands and I bite back my retort.

  I gingerly retake my seat, keeping my gaze out the window so that he doesn’t notice the lone tear fall from my eyes.

  Nine

  Wendy

  Vegas, he brought me to Vegas! I don’t care that I’ll be working some of the time, I’ve always wanted to come to Vegas but never got the chance and yet here I am. How cool is this! I’m actually giddy with excitement right now and I want to explore as soon as I get the chance.

  I stand back while Jameson checks us in, he told me to stand here and wait so I am. I watch as the woman at check-in stares at him as though he’s the only man in the world and as per usual he laps it up. Any bit of attention and he turns on the charm, it’s sad to witness women throw themselves at him. Wherever he goes it always happens, including in his office. That should be his one safe place but it’s not. The man’s too good-looking and the worst thing is he knows he is.

  A couple of minutes later he walks toward me with that cocky smirk on his face, “Ready?”

  “Yep,” Not only do I have a coffee stain on my brand-new dress, I’m pretty sure my thighs are burnt, every time I move and my dress touches where the coffee spilled I want to cry out in agony. I’m ready to get out of my dress and survey the damage to my legs I follow him to the elevator, I try my best to move quickly but the pain is unbearable, once I get to my room I’m going to submerge my thighs in cold water, something I should have done as soon as it happened.

  “Wendy, are you sure you’re okay?” he asks softly, holding the elevator door for me so that I can get in.

  I glance at him, I’ve never heard him speak so softly to me before, “Why are you asking?”

  He gives me that look, the one that asks me if I’m stupid without him verbalizing the question. “You’re walking funny.”

  “Am I?” I act innocent although I can imagine how I must appear while walking.

  “Yeah, you are. So, what’s wrong?” He hits the button for the top floor and I ignore him, all I want to do is go to my room and sort it out. “Wendy,” he growls.

  I sigh, he’s not going to give up, and he’s just going to annoy me until I tell him. “My thighs are sore.” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “From the coffee?” he barks and I nod. “Shit, are you burnt?” He actually sounds genuinely concerned, which I didn’t expect.

  I shrug, “I don’t… I’m not sure, I haven’t been able to check.”

  He motions his fingers, “Let’s take a peek.”

  My eyes widen and I practically choke on my own spit. “Excuse you?” I splutter, he can’t be serious.

  “Lift your dress and show me.” He says it so casually as if it’s a normal everyday thing.

  “No, God, I’ll look at it when I get to my room. What room number am I in?” I doubt he’s booked me into the top floor and he’s not pressed any other button.

  That smirk, ugh, I’d love to wipe it off his face. “We are on the same floor. I’ve got the skyline terrace suite, there’s plenty of room for the two of us.”

  My eyebrows hit my hairline, “What is the skyline terrace?”

  “It’s a two-story suite. So there’ll be plenty of room for you to hide from me.” He’s so full of himself. “Now, lift the dress.”

  I roll my eyes, “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Scared?” he asks with amusement.

  I scoff, “And what exactly would I be afraid of?”

  He takes a step towards me and I instantly shuffle backward until my back hits the elevator wall. His eyes darken, his gaze intensifies as he stares at me. “You look gorgeous.” His voice is gruff.

  My breath hitches at his words, licking my lips, I gaze up at him. “It’s just a dress.” I whisper as he takes another step toward me, there’s nowhere left for me to go. His hands go either side of my head as he leans against the wall, pinning me in, so I can’t move.

  “It’s not the dress, Wendy. It’s all you.” His eyes rake up and down my body, “Each and every inch of you.” His lips inches from mine and I’m desperate for him to move that bit further and kiss me. I know it would be a bad idea, but I want it.

  The elevator dings as it reaches the floor, interrupting us, Jameson instantly steps away and reaches for his suitcase. “This isn’t over, Wendy.” He promises, giving me a wink before exiting the elevator.

  I follow behind him slowly as he leads the way to the suite. Each and every step is filled with complete agony, and I’m tempted to lift the bottom of my dress up over the burns so that it won’t rub against it. I’m dreading to see what my thighs look like, judging from the pain, I’m guessing that it’s going to be red for a while. Jameson stops as he gets to the door and turns back to face me, his eyes narrowing at me as he watches me walk towards him. He opens the door and places his suitcase against it holding it open before walking toward me.

  “You’re a stubborn woman.” He shakes his head as he bends at his knees and lifts me into his arms, my suitcase still in my hand.

  “And you’re a bossy bastard.” I quip as I wrap my free arm around his neck and hold on for dear life as he walks us toward the suite.

  He smirks at my words. “How bad is it hurting?” he asks, walking into the suite. Reaching for my bag, he takes it out of my hand and puts it on the floor and kicks his out of the way so that he can close the door.

  My eyes widen as I take in the room. This room is huge, I can’t believe the size of it.

  He walks directly into the bathroom and gently sets me down on the closed seat. My eyes follow his movements at the sink, he turns on the faucet and grabs a towel from the rack.

  “Okay, lift your dress.” He soaks the towel with warm water.

  “No, you can get out and I’ll do it myself,” I protest.

  “Wendy, lift the dress. Don’t make me ask again.”

  My cheeks heat up, I do as he asks and lift the hem of my dress up past my thighs, while still trying to keep my modesty. Glancing down I catch sight of two ugly red marks and realize that I was right. The bitch burnt me. “Shit,” he growls seeing my leg, “Here, put this on,” he hands me the wet towel, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Placing the towel on my thighs I hiss as the wetness touches the skin. I clench my teeth as the pain gets worse. I work through the pain and hold it against it, aware that this is the only way it’s going to get better. Jameson’s deep voice filters through to the bathroom but I can’t make out the words he’s saying.

  I’m so confused by him, by what he said in the elevator. He acted as though he wanted me, yet he’s never said anything before today. It just doesn’t make any sense. I want him but I don’t want to lose my job and if I sleep with him that’s inevitably what’s going to happen. Jameson doesn’t do girlfriends. I’ve been told that by everyone who wants him, they want to tame the untamable. They want to be the woman that gets him to settle down. I doubt that will ever happen and if I were to ever sleep with him, there’s no way he’d keep me as his personal assistant.

  “You doing okay?” he asks as soon as he walks back into the bathroom.

  “Yeah I’m okay, thanks.” I’m not, this pain is horrendous and Lissa should be fired. Hell, arrested for what she’s done. I’m exaggerating but something needs to happen, she can’t get away with this.

  “Liar.” He smirks coming to kneel down in front of me.

  “I’ll be okay, the pain will go once the redness fades.” I assure him, “We’re in Vegas, and I’m not going to let it ruin that.”

  “You’ve never been to Vegas?” He sounds shocked and caught off guard.

  “No, I haven’t, neither have a lot of people. Have you been to every state in the US?”

  He smirks and I already have my answer, “Of course, I have.”

  I stick my tongue
out at him and his eyes darken yet again.

  “Wendy.” He growls, “You’re sore. I’m a patient man but that patience only lasts for a certain amount of time. I’ve been pushed to my limit and seeing you wearing that dress nearly tipped me over the edge.”

  Edge? What edge? What’s he rambling about?

  “What are you talking about?”

  There’s a knock on the door and he stands, “I’m going to fuck you, Wendy.”

  I gasp as my nipples pebble at his words. “Says who?” This time I fail to act as if he didn’t just affect me, my reply came out breathy.

  He smiles, “Says me.” He winks at me before going to see who’s at the door.

  He’s toying with me, he has to be. Why else would he be saying those things? The only thing I don’t understand is why he’s doing it, let alone why now?

  He comes back in with some ice, he kneels down and removes the towel from my leg and I’m glad to discover that it’s gone down somewhat. He gently begins to rub the ice around the red marks but pain still radiates from them and I bite my lip to stop me from making a sound. He continues to rub the ice, it’s soothing it a lot more than the wet towel did and I’m grateful that he thought about the ice cubes.

  “Go get changed and then we can eat.” He demands as he puts the remainder of the ice cubes in the sink and begins to clean up the wet floor. Who would have thought that Mr Asshole himself could be this attentive and caring?

  “Where are the bedrooms?” I ask, gingerly getting to my feet. I’m steady on them so that’s a good sign.

  He frowns, “The bedroom is upstairs. Your bag is up there already. Do you need help going up the stairs?”

  “No, I’ll be okay, thank you.” I hold the hem of my dress up so that it won’t touch my leg and take a step, relief washes through me when the pain isn’t too bad. Hopefully the pain will fade soon.

  Walking up the stairs is a task in itself but I’m taken by the decor, this suite is amazing, classy and elegant. The window that is by the stairs has a breath-taking view of the strip. With it being nighttime, the strip is lit up and is absolutely indescribable. As I reach the second floor, I realize there’s only one bedroom here. I didn’t see another bedroom downstairs as it’s open plan. Where is Jameson going to sleep? Walking into the bedroom my mouth drops open when I encounter the size of the bed. God, it’s huge, it could easily fit five people in there.