Redeeming You: An Enemies-to-Lovers Cocky Boss Romance (Only You)

by Vic Tyler

She groaned and put her head down, looking at the mirror between our feet.

  “Take a good look,” I told her, still rubbing, still teasing. “You’re going to watch that filthy pussy take all of my cock until I’m balls deep inside of you. Then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight so everyone will know you’ve been thoroughly fucked when we leave this room. Then I’m going to cum inside of you, and you’re going to leave here with all of our juices dripping out of you. Do you like the sound of that?”

  “Wait —” she said, furrowing her brow and starting to come up.

  I dug my hand into her back and pushed her back down.

  “I said, do you like the sound of that?”

  “Yes.”

  She gasped when I suddenly slapped her ass, the impact resounding throughout the room.

  “What did you say?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whimpered.

  No teasing. No gentleness.

  I grabbed her hips and slammed into her. Her pussy was hot and slippery, and I could feel the glorious ribbing of her pussy against every surface of my hungry cock, massaging it, milking it. Any remnant of self–control I had vanished, and I savagely pounded into her, our animalistic sounds echoing in the empty, dark, mirrored room.

  She was pure sex. Her hole was hot, soaking, gasping, slurping as I rammed my thick, hard length into her over and over again. We were connected. We were one. Bare flesh inside bare flesh. This is where I belonged. There was no other woman who felt so delicious wrapped around me.

  This woman ruined sex for me.

  Her back arched, pushing her ass into me, as her orgasm violently crashed into her. I grabbed her hair firmly and pulled it towards me so she slanted up, knowing I was going to pound into her G–spot.

  And sure enough, another wave of her climax and then another one shook her body, each one pulsing the walls of her pussy violently against my dick. Watching her eyes roll back and tear up from the pleasure combined with the divine feeling of our raw union was too much for me, as I felt my balls tighten, threatening to shoot any time.

  I pulled her up closer.

  “Whose pussy is this?” I growled in her ear.

  “Yours,” she whimpered. I tightened my grip.

  “What?”

  “It’s yours, sir.”

  “Who do you belong to?”

  “I’m yours, sir.”

  “That’s fucking right,” I think I said before my own orgasm took me.

  My vision went white, and my balls shot my hot cum deep into her. It was a few seconds before I came back around, and I realized my fingers were digging into her hips and ass.

  As soon as I let go, Maria’s legs collapsed under her, and I barely caught her before she fell onto the mirror, painted white and blurry by all the juices that drizzled down from our passionately carnal mating.

  I pulled her limp body against me, as I collapsed onto the ground, leaning against the mirrored wall we just watched ourselves in. We panted heavily, exhausted, as we collected ourselves again. Her warm body was curled in the crook of my shoulder, and I rested my head on hers, breathing in her vanilla scent. The room was empty and dark with only our breaths moving the still air.

  “I think I love you.”

  Maria’s voice was quiet and sad. Hearing the words in my post–orgasm haze let through the unfiltered feelings that I buried.

  Relief. Joy. Adoration.

  Confusion.

  Unworthiness.

  Fear.

  “Yeah.”

  chapter nine

  Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You

  – Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons

  T here were few things that scared me, and after what had just happened, I put Grant’s fury pretty high on the list. There was something devastatingly primal and unleashed about Grant that night. It instigated every animal instinct in me to run away.

  The hospital was a mess. When Benji and I arrived, Grant was unrecognizable. Every guard and mask he put up was stripped off, and his unbridled rage, agony, and devastation couldn’t be contained as he paced the hospital waiting room. And I thought I related to his sentiments — the anger, worry, hope that Benji and I felt during all this. But it was an entirely different night for Grant.

  When Brie’s family came, Grant went with them to explain the situation. It was only a few minutes later when Benji and I heard the crash from the room they were in. Brie’s dad was holding her older brother back, his face twisted with hatred with his bulging arm cocked back. Grant was on the ground, all of the hospital equipment scattered on the floor around him, as he stared up at the ceiling with his eye and cheek quickly darkening. And the resignation in his eyes. The punishment he felt he deserved.

  When the doctor finally came out with the results and said she was perfectly fine, Grant sank into a chair, exhausted and relieved and defenseless.

  It turned out that Brie was roofied and was dealt a few bad bruises, but other than that she was expected to recover soon. Her agency was thoroughly relieved and offered her as much time as she needed to recover.

  But there was bad news too. Cooper was admitted into the hospital for severe internal bleeding, broken ribs, and other issues. Grant told us angrily, nearly crushing his phone in his hand, that Cooper wouldn’t be charged with anything and that there was no action in his company to do anything about it. He threw his phone at the wall, shattering the screen, but he obviously didn’t care.

  Benji walked over to Grant and said something quietly to him. I could almost see the gears turning in Grant’s head before he calmed down and said something back to Benji. I would’ve been worried, but knowing that they were working together to set things right actually put me at ease.

  By then, it’d been hours since we arrived and Brie was sound asleep, so once we confirmed the hospital’s visiting hours, Benji and I left. Grant stayed by her side for the rest of the night.

  Since the party, things were tense between Benji and me. We didn’t talk about what happened. Benji ran around with Grant, figuring out whatever they were doing, and I spent most of my free time visiting Brie. She was doing fine, and she said she barely remembered anything from the night except trying to stay awake long enough to fight Cooper off and then seeing Grant at the door. Complete darkness afterward.

  It was a few days later when Benji asked me into his office. He picked up his camera and put it back down, only to pick it back up a few seconds later.

  “I’m leaving BAYRE,” Benji said, fidgeting with his camera. He put it down and looked up at me. “I’m going to South America.”

  “What?”

  I was stunned. BAYRE without Benji? I couldn’t imagine it. “Why?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “A colleague invited me to go on an assignment for the National Geographic with him. It’s a project in the Amazon.”

  Amazing. I knew I should’ve been feeling excited for him, and my head was telling me it was an awesome opportunity, that I should be jealous. But my heart sank straight through my stomach. This was starting to feel like a break–up when we weren’t even together. Of course, it would all end after I stupidly confessed that I love him.

  “Oh, that’s great,” I said, hoping my smile didn’t seem stiff or forced. “It’s a good opportunity for you. The studio won’t be the same without you.”

  Benji exhaled deeply, looking at the wall. “I accepted it a while ago. We’ve been preparing for my move out. Grant said he’d like to keep you on if you’re interested.”

  The pieces started crashing into place. In a massive rush that my mind almost wasn’t able to keep up with. The new photographer, the replacement, the paperwork changes, client transitions. Everything started making sense.

  “How come you didn’t say anything earlier?” I gritted, unable to keep the hurt and anger from seeping out. I took a deep breath and stepped back. “Nevermind, you don’t owe me any of that, do you?”

  No response. It was the second time after I heard the empty echo of
my voice in my parents’ home that the silence that hung in the air was infinitely more painful.

  The bells at the front door tinkled.

  “Benji!” A sickeningly familiar sing–songy voice rang out.

  We both turned to see Janessa strut towards us, wrapped in a large fur coat with a short skirt underneath, her tanned legs bare and clad in death heels. Oh, god.

  I felt nauseous. Everything was a mistake. Why? Why did I cave in at the party? Why was I expecting more — no, not more. Just something different — of Benji when he made it clear from the beginning?

  “Benji, baby,” Janessa clattered over to Benji to hug him. He ducked out of the way, looking grimly surprised.

  “What are you doing here?” He frowned at her.

  Janessa rolled her eyes and held up her sparkling phone. “You asked me to come. I’ll come as many times as you want.”

  She winked at him, and I think I threw up a little in my mouth.

  “What —” Benji started, then he shut his eyes and dropped his head, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, okay. Go wait in my office. Maria and I are talking right now.”

  “No.” My head was dizzy with nausea taking over my body. “Go ahead. I’m leaving.” I turned to Janessa who smiled smugly at me. “You two can stay here and talk.”

  “Aw, are you sure?” Janessa purred, absolutely delighted. She batted her eyes at Benji, who gritted his teeth. “You’re welcome to stay. But it might take a long time. We have a lot to talk about. Maybe even all night.”

  “Jenny,” Benji snapped sharply.

  “Now, now, Benji baby, don’t forget you’re the one who asked me here. I hope you haven’t forgotten that I’m the only one who can give you exactly what you want.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously under her long fake lashes.

  Stop. Please. Enough. I turned swiftly on my heels and walked away.

  “Maria, wait,” Benji said, grabbing my arm. “It’s not what it looks —”

  “Dissonance.”

  My eyes were dry — dry from the tears I shed alone, dry from the resignation. Benji’s beautiful green eyes probed deeply into mine.

  How long had I wanted to be on the receiving end of his gaze? How long had I wanted to measure and memorize the depth in his eyes?

  We stood there, unmoving, searching for answers that we couldn’t vocalize.

  His hands finally let go, and I tore my eyes away from him and walked out the door.

  I intended to go home and cry myself to sleep. I texted Grant that I appreciated everything so far but that I decided to pursue a different line of work and was quitting, effective immediately.

  I had just dumped a hefty amount of wine into my special wineglass when there were a few knocks on the door. I opened it to find a sprightly and smiling, albeit a little banged up, Brie with bags of ice cream and wine in her hands.

  As soon as she saw my red eyes, she dropped the bags and jumped onto me, pulling me in for a tight hug. Her welcome familiar face made me burst into tears, drowning her shoulder with my sadness.

  “Oh, Maria,” she said as I cried in her arms. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I hiccuped between sobs. “You should be resting.”

  “I’ll crash here for a bit.” Brie rubbed her cheek into my head. She was still stunning even with the bruises and cuts on her face. “I’m going to intrude on you, okay?”

  She came in, and I sat her down on the couch, bustling around my small apartment, grabbing spoons and mugs and sticking a DVD she brought into my TV.

  Heath Ledger.

  I love this girl. She knew exactly what would cheer me up. The touching gesture made me start crying again, and I told her everything that happened. Everything except about her, and what I had accused Benji of doing with her.

  “That idiot,” Brie bristled. “Insensitive, dense, egomaniac, selfish — where’s a thesaurus? We’ll just read every shitty word about him.”

  “No,” I said. I just wanted to forget about him. “Heath Ledger is waiting for us. We’ll just fall in love with the screen. What kind of ice cream did you get?”

  There were fat–free vanilla and rocky road. I dug my spoon into the latter, leaving the other one for Brie. We started laughing and crying at every little thing after we finished the fourth bottle of wine and the second movie.

  I didn’t want to bring up the time that I found Brie’s necklace on the floor of Benji’s office, but the longer we sat there together, drinking, I couldn’t help thinking about it. I wasn’t even sure what the second movie was about since my head was spinning with alcohol and a fiercely desperate need to know what happened.

  But Brie just got out of the hospital. Did I really want to have this conversation while we were drunk?

  Yes.

  Yes, I did. But first, I needed to empty my bladder.

  I didn’t get a chance to ask her. As soon as I came out of the bathroom, Brie fidgeted with her phone in hand.

  “I think I need some fresh air,” Brie blurted hastily. “Let’s go pick up some snacks from the convenience store down the street.”

  “Sure,” I said. Brie rarely wanted to get snacks, but why not? I could ask her later. We had all night.

  I walked down the stairs with Brie behind me and was out the door when I saw Benji on the curb. He was fifteen feet away, shifting from foot to foot as he looked up and down the street. What the hell was he doing here?

  “Maria?” Brie’s voice said behind me. I spun around, about to shove her back through the door, cursing that she said my name so loudly.

  “Maria!”

  God. I loved the way he said my name. The deep lustrous tone of his voice. The way his mouth rolled the sounds.

  Brie looked at me, worriedly. I realized I had frozen in place. But I needed to see him. At least one last time.

  Benji’s face looked panicked as he glanced back and forth between Brie and me.

  “Maria, can we talk?” Benji pleaded.

  But I was too drunk to notice the desperate edge in his voice. I was too drunk to think about anything besides how much I wanted him and how much I was done with him. I couldn’t be strung along anymore. I couldn’t afford to get heartbroken anymore. Mostly, I was afraid that I was too drunk to stop myself from jumping into his arms.

  I shook my head, not trusting my voice, as I started backing towards my apartment.

  “W–wait,” he stammered.

  Benji held his hand out tentatively and fumbled as he reached into the messenger bag slung on his shoulder and took something out, holding it in front of him.

  “I love you, baby —”

  Benji winced, his voice slightly trembling and unsure, but his fingers confidently strumming the ukulele I gave him.

  “And if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights. I love you, baby, so trust in me when I say —”

  His voice grew stronger and clearer, and he expertly played the piece. It was obvious that he was painfully embarrassed, but his eyes never left mine.

  People slowed down to watch us, and a few people stopped to watch us, looking like they were debating whether to take their phones out. It might have looked like a romantic street performance except for the tension between us and the anxious look in his eyes.

  “Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down I pray. Oh, pretty baby —”

  Don’t tell anyone, but I dreamed about Heath Ledger singing this song to me as he bounced, glided, and slid over the bleachers with the marching band accompanying him. He was handsome and daring, and I swooned every time I watched him.

  But this.

  I never imagined this. I felt like shit, my heart was broken, and I was drunk as hell, dehydrated from all the tears I shed during the past week and a half, with my antsy best friend standing behind me when I was just going to interrogate her about why the hell her beloved necklace was with the man I love.

  And then there was Benji, beautiful Benji, shy Benji, arrogant Benji, pained Benji. He was no Heath
Ledger, but he was real and in front of me and that made him better.

  “Now that I've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you.”

  The ukulele’s last note faded into the bustle of New York’s streets.

  Benji didn’t move, still searching my eyes with the ukulele in hand.

  Finally, he let it fall to his side. And we stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at each other, without regard to any of the people around us. It was like the rest of the street was empty, the rest of the world. In this moment, only the two of us existed.

  “Maria,” Benji breathed, my name painfully sweet on his lips.

  This was the first time I saw him so unguarded and vulnerable. The desperation raw on his face.

  “You can't just expect me to fall at your feet after you serenade me.”

  “I know.”

  “What did you think this is going to accomplish?”

  “I don't know,” he said, his shoulders slightly falling. “A chance. To talk to you, clear things up. To tell you how I feel.”

  “You're leaving the country,” I said, the words cutting bitterly into the air.

  “Wait for me.”

  “You can't just ask me to wait here like a lovesick puppy.”

  “Then don't. But I'm going to come back and chase you.”

  “I don't even know when you'll be back.”

  “Four months.”

  “What the hell — why didn’t you say that? Why did you make it sound like you were leaving forever?”

  “I thought I mentioned it. I should've told you earlier — about all of it — but I didn't know if you cared. I didn’t want to think about how far I’d be from you.”

  “You knew how I felt about you.” The anger lashed out, unrestrained.

  “I couldn’t believe it,” he said, grasping his hair, frustrated. At himself. “I didn’t think you wanted to be with me. I couldn’t wrap my head around it until you told me you love me. Somehow I still can’t.”

  I shook my head, tears somehow filling my eyes again. “I can’t be around you knowing there are other women —”

  “There's no one else, Maria,” Benji cut in, stepping towards me. I stepped back into the door. “I swear. There’s been no one else since I’ve met you.”