Bought by the Boss

by Stacey Kennedy

  I consider what she’s said. Hearing all this only makes me appreciate her more. “The way you live is really quite amazing.”

  She takes another sip of her coffee. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because it’s beautiful. You’ve found a way to center yourself around what makes a person most happy. You fully support their passions. I can only imagine that inspires people to be better when they’re around you. To live to their full potential.” Maybe that’s why she’s been so unforgettable. Her happiness is based on something so pure, so real. I want to taste that.

  She gives me a sweet smile. “What about you? What excites you?”

  “I like to win,” I admit, even though I know it’s a two-edged sword. Before she can assume the worst of me, thinking that I’m only with her now because I wanted to beat Jackson, I add, “I like to face obstacles and find that special little thing that everyone is missing so that I come out on top.”

  She cocks her head. “Meaning?”

  “I mean that I like to play clean and win fairly in this cutthroat game of law. It’d be easy to get drawn into the dark side of this business. To make deals with the Devil for money, for fame.”

  “You’ve never done that?”

  “I’ve never needed to.” I lean back in my seat, gazing into the richness of her eyes. “I win, but not by playing dirty. I win by playing hard.”

  The side of her mouth curves as she gives me a very long regard. “Well, color me surprised. I wouldn’t have expected Liam Maxwell to have such heart.”

  “That’s because you’ve never given me the chance to show it to you.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” She studies me again, eyes searching mine. “But how can I know this isn’t all an act to schmooze me?”

  Anger slides through my veins. Jackson’s fed her a story about how I’m using her. Fuck, it’s such a lie. One that by Monday she won’t believe anymore. “When it comes to you, there is only one game I will ever play.”

  “What game is that?” she asks, a little breathless.

  “Come here and I’ll show you.”

  The sides of her mouth crease as she rises, accepting my dare. I push my plate to the side of the table, shifting my chair back. When she moves to my side, I help her so she’s straddling my chair, her bottom resting on the table. I never stop looking at her, keeping that connection. “Lift your skirt, sweetheart.”

  Slowly, she does, revealing she’s not wearing panties. “Already playing a game yourself, hmm?” I lean back in my chair and drag my hands up her thighs, pausing to state my truth. “This is my game, Aria. My only game. Do you want to play this morning?”

  “Yes,” she breathes, eyes hot on me.

  I rub my finger through her slick folds. “Look at you, swollen, all used up.” I glance at her face and grin. “Your sweet body isn’t used to all this attention.” I run my palm over her clit. “Are you sore, Aria?”

  “A little.”

  I slide a finger inside her slick tender heat. “Not sore enough,” I tell her, when she tosses her head back. I gaze upon the long, sexy line of her neck. “You won’t refuse me my fill, will you?”

  “God, no.” She moans.

  That desperate moan tells me I have her right where I want her. I drag my finger out of her tight heat and state firmly, “Return to your seat, Aria.”

  Her head snaps up, expression aghast. “What?”

  “You wanted to play a game. Let’s play it.” She studies me a moment then obviously agrees to play along and rises. Before she can sit, I grab her chair, position her closer beside me. “Take a seat.” I pat the chair.

  “What are you up to?” She regards me with suspicion.

  “Anything I want.” She lowers down into the chair, and I pull her under the table, the linen now over her lap. “Spread your legs and rub that sweet pussy for me, will you, love?”

  Heat and lust burn in her eyes. “And then?”

  I lean closer, cupping her chin, demanding she only look at me. “Then you’re going to bring yourself to orgasm.”

  “And then?” she whispers, breathless.

  “You’re going to ask me permission to come.”

  Her gaze hardens, the fight I love in her appearing. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because that’s the game we’re playing.”

  Keeping her eyes on me, obviously not prepared to fight against something we both know she wants, she widens her legs and then slowly slips her hand beneath the table. She’s under the white linen, hidden from me, but that doesn’t matter. I see the exact moment she strokes her clit, the heightened pleasure washing over her expression.

  “Is this what you want me to do, Liam?” she asks, voice raspy.

  “That’s exactly right, beautiful.” I reach for the buzzer. Her eyes widen as I press down against the button, calling the waiter back to us. The pleasure is gone from her face, expression hard. I arch a brow. “No longer interested in the game, darlin’?”

  I see the power in her eyes, the challenge there. I know she won’t stop either, because as much as I like to win, she likes to push against me. That is our game. It’s addictive and fun and sexy as fuck. Even now, the sparkle in her eyes tells me that she’s going to follow through to show me that she’s as daring as I am. That tempts me to find out how far I can take us both.

  Right then, the metal door whisks open, and a flurry of waiters return. Aria looks from them to me and then smiles, and I see the slight shake of her dress, telling me she’s moving her fingers again, faster now. In a single breath, the pleasure returns to her face, flushing her cheeks a stunning pinkish hue.

  The waiter smiles at Aria. “Did you enjoy your breakfast?” he asks her.

  “Entirely, thank you.” Her breath hitches.

  He glances to me, obviously not seeing or hearing the heady pleasure she’s enduring. I smile at him and nod. “Please give our compliments to the chef, everything was incredible.”

  “I certainly will, sir,” the waiter says, beginning to clear our plates.

  Over his shoulder, I notice another waiter at the door, watching Aria very closely. Too closely, in fact. By the redness in his cheeks, I’m only assuming he has noticed what I can see plain as day. When I glance back at Aria, I understand why. Her cheeks are stained dark red and that stunning color descends down to her chest, her eyes lost in desire, mouth parted with her heavy but quiet breaths.

  I am unsurprised. She’s being watched. She’s being dirty. Those can be the magical ingredients for heightened arousal.

  “Do you need anything else?” the waiter asks me.

  I turn to him and shake my head. “That will be all, thank you.”

  “Take your time, and enjoy the view,” he says. “You have the terrace for another hour.”

  “The view is quite stunning, isn’t it?” I’m not talking about the beach.

  The waiter agrees with a nod, and then he, along with the other waiter, leave through the door and it shuts behind them. I assume they’re huddling together now talking about what’s going on here. I only care about the woman riding her pleasure.

  I rise and move to her side, tucking my finger under her chin, commanding her gaze. “Do you want to come, Aria?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ask my permission.”

  Her chest rises and falls with the hitch of her breath. “May I come?”

  I slide my thumb over her puffy bottom lip. “Look at me while you do it, and you may.”

  She gasps and moans and trembles, her arm moving faster. I stay focused on her eyes, feeding how she likes to be watched. And when she peaks, her eyes widening into euphoria, it takes all my strength not to bend her over this table and drive my throbbing cock into her. But this is for her, not for me.

  A memory belonging all to her.

  I become lost in the depths of her surrender as she strains to keep her eyes open, to listen to my instructions, but soon the pleasure steals her control. Her head tilts back, eyes flutter shut, and her
moan is soft and sensual and goddamn enthralling.

  When she finally opens her eyes to me again, revealing such beauty in her seductive satisfaction, I know then and there, she’s forever ruined me for any other woman. No one can ever compare. Not to her. Not like this.

  She dips her chin down, taking my thumb into her mouth, giving it a hard suck before releasing it to say, “Now is it your turn?”

  “This was not about me, beautiful. Believe me, I like watching you come as much as I like feeling it.” I lean down and take her mouth, passionately staking my claim then and there that I’ve won her surrender, and that is pleasure to me.

  “So, in this game of yours, what happens next?” she whispers against my mouth.

  I grin. “I’ve already told you.”

  She laughs. “Anything you want.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 5

  Aria

  A couple of hours later, after strolling along the Third Street Promenade, where people flock to the open-air shopping district of Santa Monica to spend their money and enjoy a day of sun and sand, Liam stops at a souvenir shop. A high-pitched scream has me glancing at the bright yellow roller coaster off in the distance. In fact, though, I can’t be sure the screaming isn’t coming from the Ferris wheel.

  When I look back at Liam, I find him staring at something on top of the showcase. I move in next to him as he takes a red and yellow abstract ceramic heart ornament off the golden hook. “This right here,” he says to the girl behind the counter. “I’ll take this one for the lady.” She accepts the ornament from him and he grabs his wallet, handing her a fifty. He accepts his change before spinning around to me with the ornament hanging off his finger. “A gift to remember this weekend.”

  I stare at the ornament, completely taken aback by his gesture.

  Something Liam clearly takes notice of. “You don’t like it?” he asks, a frown marring his gorgeous face.

  “On the contrary,” I say, a little breathless. “It’s perfect, and completely unexpected.”

  He smiles, warming the richness of his eyes. “Well, I’m glad then.” He wraps an arm around the small of my back, bringing me in close against the strength of his body. “Though you’ve also made me curious. Why is this gift so unexpected?”

  I glance down at the ornament, running my hand over the smooth shiny ceramic. “I guess I would have expected you to…”

  “Spend thousands on you?”

  I cringe. “God that sounds so awful, doesn’t it?”

  “No, it doesn’t sound awful. I’m sure that’s what I would have expected if I was you.” He leans in and grins. “Let me also remind, I already have spent thousands on you.” I blush and glance away but his finger on my chin demands my gaze. “I know you, Aria, and I know this ornament is something that would mean more to you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you love Christmas.”

  I stop breathing, staring at him. It’s a little detail about me that’s true and personal. Some women go crazy for purses or shoes even. For me, it’s Christmas. “Did Mallory tell you I love Christmas?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t talk to Mallory about you.”

  “Ever?”

  “Never.” He gently guides me forward. We continue walking by the shops with his arm around my waist. “It would cross a boundary, and truthfully, I like unearthing all your secrets myself.”

  “How did you unearth this secret then?” I need to understand, and I’m not even really sure why.

  He gives a soft smile. “Because you light up around Christmastime.”

  “I do?”

  He nods and chuckles. “There’s a brightness about you, and I’ve never heard anyone else talk about Christmas right after Halloween. I’ve heard you say to Mallory after meetings that you were going home to watch Christmas Vacation, and it was in November.”

  I laugh softly. I can’t recall that conversation but it’s totally something I would do.

  He glances down at me, a strand of hair falling out of place. “Besides, I’ve heard Mallory mention a gift she’s bought for you now and again in the office, and it’s always Christmas related.”

  I gape at him. Honestly, gape at him.

  He watches me, his eyes twinkling when he spins me into him, wrapping both arms around my back. “It appears I’ve dumbfounded you.”

  “To be perfectly honest with you, Liam”—I stare into the warmth of his eyes, seeing things I never saw before—“it’s so incredibly sweet of you to notice something like that about me.” Maybe even the most touching thing anyone has ever noticed. It has nothing to do with my looks, my brains, or anything. He noticed something that warms my heart. No guy has ever paid that much attention to me before.

  “See, and that’s why I like to win.” He smiles. “That look right there on your face. That’s what I like.” I smile back, and lean into him as we continue walking again. A few steps later, Liam breaks the silence. “I am interested, though, why is Christmas so important to you? Any meaning behind that?”

  “My parents are divorced,” I tell him, not feeling like I need to hide this part of myself. I hook my arm through his and set to explaining. “They were two of the most miserable people when they were together. But no matter what, they always put their feelings aside and got together on Christmas Day for me.”

  “Even after their divorce?”

  I nod. “Even after.” We pass by a man painted silver and pretending to be a statue. Believable enough that even a pigeon is perched on his head. I smile at them both before addressing Liam again. “Of course, it took me a long time to figure out that’s why I loved Christmas so much.”

  “It’s a nice thing to love,” he says, taking my hand. “For a very good reason.”

  “It is,” I agree.

  We stroll along passing by break-dancers and then further down is a crowd gathered around a magician. With each step I take, I become more curious about the man who seems to understand the way I tick. “What is your Christmas?”

  “This.” He gestures with his chin. “Santa Monica is my Christmas.”

  “Is there any special meaning behind why you love it here so much?”

  He draws in a deep breath glancing out in front of him. “I feel right when I’m here.” The side of his mouth arches, and he looks at me. “Does that make sense?”

  I nod and smile. “It does to me.” I realize though there is a lot I don’t know about him. Considering he knows a very personal thing about me, I feel like a bag of shit for that. “What of your family?” I ask to correct my error.

  “My family is small,” he explains, moving to a bench facing the water and gesturing for me to sit. After I do, he sits next to me. “My father passed away six years ago. My mother lives in a retirement community in Florida.”

  I like how it feels when he possessively drags an arm across my shoulder. Like it a little too much, in fact. “She went that route, huh?”

  He nods. “All of her friends ended up moving to Florida so she jumped on that train.”

  “How often do you see her?”

  “Not often enough, really.” The tension in his eyes tells me he’s close to his mother. “I travel there to see her every couple of months, and of course over the holidays. But she has a good life out there. A busy life with a new husband.”

  “She sounds happy.”

  He gives another firm nod. “She’s a ball of sunshine and bourbon, my mother.”

  “She sounds like a woman I’d like.” I chuckle then admit, “Though, honestly, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to leave this behind for Florida.”

  “Neither can I.” He drags his fingers along my shoulder, glancing out at the beach ahead of us.

  Silence settles in, and it’s a comfortable silence, I come to realize. I’m highly aware of the way I lean into him, how that single touch of his rises my body temperature, and how I pay attention to his every move. Though my mind is on hyperdrive, a
nd I need answers. I glance at Liam next to me. His gaze seems to have never moved away. “What about friends? What do you do for fun?”

  “I mingle,” he says.

  “With people you do business with, you mean?”

  He inclines his head. “Business takes up a lot of my free time.”

  “No close friends other than that?”

  “I have a few college buddies. We get together when we can. Somehow, though, life seems to get busy, and not just for me.”

  I consider that, thinking men are so different than women. Or maybe just businessmen are different. Their professional life and personal life are so intertwined. I can’t imagine that. Sure, Jackson and I catch a game at the pub sometimes. But I consider Jackson a close friend, family even.

  Liam suddenly chuckles, dragging me from my thoughts. “You think there’s something wrong with my not having close friends?” he asks.

  “Not wrong, exactly,” I clarify with a shrug. “I just can’t imagine that. I have Mallory. And before Mallory, I had other close friends. I still talk to those friends, but life has taken on new directions and stuff.”

  Something crosses his face then. It’s like I’ve touched on a sore spot. I begin to wonder if maybe he once did have a close friend.

  He glances at the Ferris wheel. “You and I live in two very different worlds, Aria. You see brightness in the darkness. You see good where there isn’t good. And that’s one thing about you that is undeniably beautiful.”

  My heart squeezes at the way he speaks about me. It’s sincere and honest, and it feels like it comes from such an honest place. “You seem to see brightness in people as well,” I point out.

  He turns and gives a small smile. “In you, I see brightness.” My breath catches at the emotion in his eyes when he adds, “Only in you.”

  Unexpected tears rise in my eyes that shock me as much as they overwhelm me when I reach for his hand, holding it in my lap. Liam is power, sex, and control. Yet there’s a sweetness about him. A sweetness that he has toward me that I am only seeing now. Maybe because I’m finally letting myself see it.