Grumpaholic: A Grumpy Boss Romance

by Cole, Jagger

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I made my first eight-figure developing deal instead.”

  She rolls her eyes and grins. “Money, huh? I hear it doesn’t buy happiness.”

  “You hear that from people who don’t have it.”

  She laughs. But then her brows knit. She looks at me seriously while we slow dance across the roof garden. “Are you happy?”

  “I’m happy right now,” I growl.

  She blushes. “I mean in general.”

  I shrug. “Are you?”

  “Mostly, yeah.” She smiles curiously at me. “You’re avoiding the question.”

  “I don’t think life is about happiness or not,” I shrug. “It just is.”

  Ella laughs. “Wow, and just when I thought you weren’t as much of a sourpuss grump as I thought you were.”

  “That’s me,” I grunt, smiling. “Sourpuss grump.”

  “Ever think you might just be addicted to being that way?”

  “Like a grumpaholic?”

  She laughs loudly. “Perfect. That is the perfect name for you.”

  “Glad you approve,” I chuckle.

  “You know what?”

  “Do tell.”

  She grins. She pulls closer to me and looks up into my eyes. “You’re really not as colossal an asshole as you appear to be, once you get to know you.”

  “And you’re not nearly as much of a smart-mouthed…” I sigh. “No, actually I take it back. Yes, you are.”

  She laughs and punches my arm playfully. I grin and pull her close. My pulse beats faster. My heart swells. Christ, what the hell is happening to me?

  The quartet stops to take a break. Ella blushes and looks up into my eyes. “So, now what?”

  “Two options. Either we sit back down and have dessert…”

  “And option two?” she breathes.

  I growl. My hands grip her, and I pull her tightly against me as my cock surges. “Option two is, I drag you back to my place, rip your panties off, and devour you for dessert.”

  She moans quietly. Her face grows red and her eyes search mine. “Are we sure…” she takes a breath. “Are we sure that’s a good idea?”

  “No,” I groan. “But it’s what we’re doing.”

  She presses into me. Her body throbs with heat. “I’m not actually your employee, after all.”

  “I wouldn’t care if you were the fucking Queen of England right now,” I snarl. “I want you naked, on my bed, with those pretty thighs spread for me in twenty minutes or less.”

  She whimpers. “I-I think I could work with that.”

  Sixteen minutes and thirty-four seconds later, that’s exactly where I’ve got her.

  16

  Ella

  I wake up slowly, wrapped in his arms. I grin. My heart surges, and my very skin tingles. His muscled arms circle me. His chest is warm against my bare back. I turn to look at his sleeping face. Instead, I gasp when I realize he’s already up.

  “Morning,” he grins.

  “Morning,” I blush. The very sudden instant replay of our night after getting back from the restaurant makes my body tremble. I blush when I remember the way he made me moan and scream. My core tightens and quivers when I remember the ways he pinned me down and drew the pleasure from my body.

  “My my,” Cormac growls quietly. “What’s on your mind.”

  “Nothing,” I mumble. My cheeks burn. He grins, but there’s a hunger to that smile. He pulls me closer. I gasp when I feel his cock thicken against my ass.

  “What time is it?” I murmur. I push back, wanting him.

  “Eight,” he groans. “And as much as I’d like to blow off the day and stay here, I have to go meet the steel workers union.”

  “Planning on bringing your own steel beam?” I tease, pushing my ass back against his erection.

  Cormac chuckles and leans in to kiss me slowly. When he pulls back, I sigh. “I guess I should get going too.”

  “Why?”

  “To finish your painting?

  He shrugs. “Stay here.”

  “At your place? Without you?”

  “Should I be worried about you stealing anything?”

  I giggle. “Maybe. You’ve got some nice stuff.”

  He laughs. “And if there’s an emergency, you can call 911?”

  “Yeah, I’m not five.”

  He chuckles and kisses me again. “Then yes, please stay here. Relax, lounge around. Take the day. Just one condition.”

  “No painting dicks?”

  He grins. “I was going to say, be on this bed, naked and on all fours with your pussy nice and wet for me at three PM.”

  I tremble. Heat pulses through my core, and wetness floods my thighs. I chew on my lip. “Bossy much?” I tease

  He growls. His hand pushes over my hip and between my thighs. His finger strokes over my pussy, making me whimper. He draws it back, and it’s glistening. I blush deeply.

  “Wet already much?” he growls. He licks his finger clean. My blush only grows deeper.

  “I really do have to go,” he groans. He kisses me again and then slides from the bed. I wolf-whistle at his naked ass when he crosses the room to his closet. A few minutes later, he’s back and dressed in his usual suit. Looking yummy as fuck, of course.

  “Three, huh?” I breathe.

  “Three,” he growls. He leans over the bed and kisses me. “Enjoy the apartment.”

  “And if I can’t wait that long?”

  He growls. “I’m a little tied to the office today.”

  “See, the funny thing there is…” I chew on my lip. “It seems that I work there too these days…”

  He groans.

  “And I do have some work to do on the wall.”

  “What time ,” he growls.

  “Now?” I giggle.

  He grins. “Lay back, enjoy the apartment, and be on my desk, legs spread, before noon. That work?”

  I blush all over. I tremble with heat. “That works,” I whisper softly. “Sir.”

  I stay in bed for another hour, just lounging. I mean it’s an amazing bed. After that, I decide to pretend I’m at a spa. I might as well be, with how incredible his place is. I mean there’s a home gym, a swim-in-place lap pool… there’s a steam room for God’s sake.

  So, I luxuriate. I make myself a huge smoothie in his obscenely nice kitchen. I take a few laps naked in his pool. I bask in the glory of the steam room until I’m pink all over. Finally, wrapped in a bathrobe, I sink into a chair by the huge windows overlooking the park with a book.

  But after an hour or so, I’m restless. I start to poke around the apartment. Okay, I’m snooping. But it’s not malicious snooping. It’s not like I’m breaking into locked drawers or anything. I’m just… snooping. I’m wanting to know more about him, I guess.

  Honestly, I don’t find much. Boring papers, bank statements that, spoiler, let me know that Cormac Heath is obscenely wealthy. No shocker there.

  Finally, in what seems like a guest room or second study or something, I open a drawer of a desk. At the back, I come across a framed picture and pull it out. Instantly, my eyes narrow. I scowl at it.

  The picture is of Cormac and an elegant, gorgeous blonde woman. Clearly, they’re a couple in the picture. Her hand is in his, and she’s got her head leaned against his chest; both of them in evening formal wear. Cormac looks amazing, of course. But it’s her that draws my eyes—and my ire.

  She looks like a fucking princess. She’s stunning, and tall, and just elegant. She’s fancy in a way I most certainly am not. She looks “of this world” that Cormac exists in. I know it’s stupid. I know he and I aren’t a couple or whatever. But I can’t deny the emotion I feel or the burn it leaves.

  What am I, jealous? I glare at the women draped across Cormac in the picture. My jaw clenches and my anger boils.

  Yup. I sure am.

  I put the picture back though. This isn’t any of my business. I head back to the bedroom to get dressed. T
his place is amazing, but some fresh air sounds pretty good. I blush, realizing the only thing I’ve got is the dress I wore last night. But, it is what it is.

  I dress anyways. I pull my phone out to text Cormac about maybe getting a ride from his driver. But suddenly, there’s a knock at his door.

  I frown and walk over to it. “Cormac?”

  I open the door, and the woman almost falls inside laughing. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my key…” she finally looks up at me and her face looks horrified.

  “Who the fuck are you!?”

  I blink in shock. “Um, excuse me?”

  She snarls. She storms into Cormac’s loft looking absolute furious at me. “I said who the fuck are you?!”

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Cormac said—”

  “He said what, you little bitch?!”

  I stare at her. “I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” And why does she look so freaking familiar?

  The woman laughs coldly. “Oh this is rich. I bet he didn’t say a fucking word, did he? So typical!”

  I’m shaking as she stomps towards me. “Who are you?!”

  She stops. Her face contorts into a sneer. “I’m Cormac’s fucking fiancée. Who the fuck are you?!”

  It feels like a brick landing on my heart. I stagger backwards. My stomach twists. And suddenly, it clicks into place. That’s how I know her; she’s the woman in the picture frame at the back of his desk. Hidden away, out of sight.

  She’s the proverbial other shoe dropping.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper. I can’t breathe. The room feels like it’s spinning. I blindly stumble over to the table where I left my purse last night. I feel numb as I grab it and stagger for the door.

  “Get the fuck out of here, you little fucking homewrecker!”

  She slams the door behind me. I’m sobbing by the time I get to the elevator. By the time it hits the ground floor, I feel broken in two.

  What the fuck did I think was going to happen? I danced with the devil.

  Of course I got burned.

  17

  Cormac

  I’m staring at a document on my laptop. But I’m not even seeing it. I’m looking through it. My eyes are open, but all I’m thinking about is Ella.

  I grin and sit back in my chair. I’m obviously dressed now. But all I can feel is the bare, warm feel of her skin on mine. My fingers replay the way her body coiled and tightened under them. My mouth remembers the way she tasted.

  But it’s more than simply the physical reminders and memories. Yes, sex with Ella is the best I’ve ever even imagined. It’s transcendent; a fucking religious experience. Nirvana by orgasm. But there’s more to it than just how she feels or tastes.

  There’s something about her inside that draws me in and holds me tight. She antagonizes me. She tests the very limits of my patience. And yet I only want more of it. I crave the spark I feel with her. I want more of the way my heart beats faster, or how I feel more alive when I’m with her.

  I catch myself and stop short. I snort to myself and shake my head. Christ, look at me. I’m sitting here fucking grinning in my office, like a kid with a crush. I honestly can’t even remember the last time I was smiling this much.

  I glance at my watch. I growl with need. It’s after eleven. She must be here by now. I’ve just gotten finished with a list of video calls with various people. But now, that’s done with. Now, I need her. I stand, I look down and chuckle.

  Jesus, it’s like I’m a teenager. I’m so hard just thinking about Ella that I’m pitching an obscene tent in my dress pants. I close my eyes and will it down before I scare half the office. When I’m composed, I step out and head down the hall.

  At the conference room, I poke my head in. But I frown. It’s empty. The ladder and the drop clothes are still set up from yesterday. The projector too. But there’s no Ella. I scowl and storm back to my office. I step at Hannah’s desk.

  “Have you seen Ms. Veers?”

  “Ella?” Hannah shakes her head. “Not today, actually. Shall I call her?”

  “No,” I growl. I storm back down the hall. I stick my head into a few other smaller empty rooms. I even check the ladies’ room around the corner. Still nothing, and no Ella. I pull my phone out and call her. But it goes right to voicemail.

  I slowly smile. I imagine Ella still curled in my bed. Actually, I start to imagine her still curled in my bed naked. My cock responds, and my hunger grows for her. I glance at my watch again. Fuck it, I’m the boss.

  “Hannah,” I grunt when I head back to my office. “Hold everything for the afternoon. I’ve got to take care of something.”

  Which means, I need to go home, tear Ella’s clothes off if she’s even daring to wear anything and make her come as many different ways as I possibly can.

  “Everything okay, Mr. Heath?”

  It’ll be a lot more than okay in about fifteen minutes when I’ve got my cock in Ella’s sweet little pussy.

  “Perfect, Hannah. I’ll be back later.”

  Mike is waiting downstairs for me with the car. A few minutes later, I’m striding into my building’s elevator and going up to the top. I unlock my front door and step in.

  “Wherever you are, and whatever you’re doing, it better be without clothes on,” I growl loudly with a grin.

  “Ooo, kinky, Cormac.”

  I swear viciously and turn. My eyes narrow. I snarl at the woman sitting in my living room area, surrounded by files and documents. It’s not Ella. It’s Kristen.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?!” I snap coldly. I storm over to her. She’s got half the legal documents and contracts in my penthouse laid out on my coffee table, and she’s taking fucking pictures of them.

  “Enough!” I roar. My fury seems to actually scare her a little. Kristen pales and jumps off the couch. But she tries to brush it off with a smile.

  “My my, grumpy today? Did your little plaything not take care of you how you need?”

  I glare at her with fury and hate in my eyes. I glance around the loft, my pulse thudding.

  “Where is she?” I hiss.

  “Who, your little slut?”

  I snarl like an animal. I surge towards her, making Kristen gasp and jump back. “Okay, hang on!” she snaps back.

  “Ella!” I yell. I storm across the penthouse to my bedroom. But it’s empty. So is the master bathroom. So is the gym, the spare bedrooms, the office, the pool room, the other bathrooms. I storm back into the living area and glare at Kristen.

  “Where is she?” I snarl.

  She purses her lips. “I did you a favor, Cormac!”

  I ignore her. I glance down at the documents on my coffee table. “The fuck are you doing?”

  “Cormac, just listen to me…”

  “Are you fucking insane?” I roar. “These are confidential documents! And how the fuck did you even get in here, you fucking psycho!”

  Kristen glares at me. “I’m trying to help you, Cormac.”

  I laugh coldly. “Get the fuck out.”

  “I got rid of your little plaything, because she’s a liability for you—”

  “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

  “Cormac,” she whines. “I just want what’s best for you—”

  “Get out!” My voice thunders through the room. Kristen stiffens and pales.

  “Cormac, if we joined forces, we’d own this city.” She smiles. “Together? Like we used to be?” She grins. Her hand goes to the top button of her blouse and pops it open. “Just like old times, Cormac…”

  I start to laugh. Nothing is funny, and there’s no joy in it. But I laugh, coldly.

  “Let me be as clear as I can be, you goddamn lunatic,” I snarl. “A few years ago, I might have bought into your brand of crazy. I might have ignored every warning light and gone along with this insanity because maybe there were dollar signs in it.”

  “Oh, there are lots of dollar signs—”

  “I am not that man anymore, you witch,” I snarl.

  She
rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. You get a new little fuck toy and suddenly you’re this—”

  “Enough!” I bellow. Kristen pales and trembles a little.

  “You and I are not a thing,” I snap.

  “Cormac—”

  “We will never be a thing. In fact, that only interaction you and I will have going forward is through lawyers, when I sue the ever loving fuck out of you for intellectual property theft and breach of client confidentiality, for trying to photograph these documents.”

  She bristles. “I wasn’t… I mean…” she huffs. “We’re a team, Cormac.”

  I shake my head. “No, we’re not. The man who was stupid enough to spend a second of time with you a few years ago is gone, Kristen. I’m not him anymore.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh please. And what changed?”

  “Everything,” I snap. “Everything changed.

  She glares at me. “Wow, so all it took was some little tramp sucking your—”

  “I’m counting to three.” My voice is like cold thunder when it booms out. Kristen actually cowers away from me. “At three, either you’ll be walking out of here to await a phone call from my entire legal team. Or you’ll be tied to my fucking toilet waiting for the police to arrive.”

  Her face is white. “Now, Cormac…”

  “One.”

  “You need me!”

  I laugh coldly. “Two.”

  “Fuck you, Cormac!”

  Kristen turns and bolts across the loft for the front door. She’s fumbling with the lock when I storm over and yank her cell phone out of her purse.

  “Hey!”

  I drop it on the floor and stomp down hard with the heel of my shoe. She screeches.

  “You fucking asshole!”

  I look right at her. “Three.”

  With a squeaking sound, Kristen yanks my front door open and rushes out. I slam the door shut and lock it. I lean against it, my heart racing. Taking her phone has saved whatever clients or jobs she was trying to steal. But I don’t give a shit about that right now.

  All I care about is Ella.

  I call her, but it goes to voicemail again. I call three more times, but it’s all the same. I snarl, clenching my jaw.