Bossed

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Bossed Page 5

by Sloane Howell


  “He texted me last night.” I glanced over to gauge her reaction as she clutched the wheel.

  A slight smile turned up her lips and she pushed a few strands of dirty-blond hair behind her ear. Her work attire was far different from mine—tattered blue jeans and a tight-fitting Van Halen tee.

  “Really?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip and slow nodded. “Yup.”

  She shook her head and her smile widened.

  “What?” I looked away. It was a rhetorical question and we both knew it. When I looked up at the mirror on the back of the sun visor, my cheeks were noticeably pink.

  “You’re gonna get it up against the wall. Just like I said.” She stared straight ahead and we came to a complete stop on the highway.

  “Oh please.” My laughter was difficult to contain and my words did nothing to stop her from continuing down the current path.

  “Exactly. Oh please is right. And you’re gonna let him do it too. I wonder if he’ll tug on your hair a little?” She reached over and pretended to grab my ponytail.

  I swatted her hand away and stared, shaking my head back and forth. “I really don’t know why I tell you anything. I should know better.”

  “You really should.”

  We both laughed. She wasn’t wrong though. I tried not to think of Ethan shoving me against the wall, his burning stare roving up and down my body, flipping me around. Thoughts of his fingers in my hair sent a wave of heat between my thighs and pebbles across my skin. Would I be able to control myself if put in that position? Would I submit to his touch, or goad him into taking me however he wanted? Why the hell was this all I could think about?

  —

  I’d been at my desk for an hour when I saw him stomping up through the bull pen. He was business as usual with his menacing glare. My eyes locked on to his and I couldn’t peel them away. It was the most unproductive morning I’d ever put in at any job.

  All. Morning. Long.

  Staring.

  Smiling.

  Back and forth.

  Ethan’s grins always came when nobody was looking, and they were subtle and low key. But they were for me. It only confirmed what he’d brushed off as a joke. It only confirmed what Kelsey had told me, and what I didn’t want to believe was true. Ethan Mason missed me. Ethan Mason liked me.

  It was a horrible idea, the two of us, like sticking a Yankees and a Red Sox fan in a building together, or mixing Mentos and Coke. It was only a matter of time before something exploded.

  About the time I stopped thinking about bombs going off and how the anticipation leading up to it was almost worth it, Ethan stormed toward the accounting area. This was different. This wasn’t brooding, micromanaging Ethan. This was pissed-off Ethan coming like a freight train.

  What the hell did you do, Jenny?

  Fight or flight started to kick in, and I was thinking flight was the better option. I needed the job too much. Ethan shot past my cubicle and I didn’t get so much as a side-eye; his face was ice cold but his eyes lit with rage.

  Jill turned around at her desk, presumably at the sound of Ethan’s thousand-dollar dress shoes pounding on the tile floor. Her face paled when he stopped in front of her and held up a thin stack of papers before crushing them in his palm and slinging them to the floor.

  “What is this shit?” He balled his hands into tight fists.

  My stomach lurched at Jill’s expression. Her eyes welled up and her fingers trembled on her thighs.

  “I-I’m n-not sure, sir.”

  “It’s the valuation you turned in for Carmichael.”

  He was standing at an angle to me so I could see his jaw flexing.

  “I-I don’t know—”

  He cut her off mid-sentence. “You’re paid to do a job. And you undervalued him by two million dollars.” He waved his hand around to all the gawkers who had craned their necks above their workspaces to stare at the altercation.

  It was humiliating. I wanted nothing more than to hug Jill, but I was frozen in my chair, refusing to believe this was playing out in front of my own eyes. I rubbed them to make sure it was real.

  “Look around at all these people. Their jobs depend on you. You could’ve cost the company that money. People would’ve been laid off. You pull your head out of your ass and get an accurate report to me by the end of the day or you pack your shit and go home. Got it?”

  “Y-yes, sir. I’m sor—”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He took another step toward her and she shrunk down in her chair. “Do your job,” he snarled.

  Rage coursed through my bloodstream and all of the heat from it rushed to my face. I stood from my chair and folded my arms over my chest, glaring at his back. He whipped around and started to storm off.

  “Apologize to her. Now!”

  Every jaw in the room dropped and every pair of eyes grew wide. Ethan stopped in his tracks but refused to turn around. “Get your ass back to work, Miss Jackson.”

  “Excuse me?” I shifted my hands to my hips and all of my weight to my left leg, tapping my right foot on the ground.

  Ethan turned around slowly. My heart raced and my palms started to sweat. But fuck him. He couldn’t talk to people that way. He should’ve taken her into an office and discussed it with her in private.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  My foot sped up as he neared. His eyes were like a dagger trying to pierce my ribs. How could I have ever thought I had feelings for this man? He was a monster. I wanted to squirm. I wanted to run away when he approached. Someone had to stand up to him though.

  He stormed over and leaned in far too close next to my ear. Tiny needles pricked my skin when I felt his warm breath in my ear, down my neck. “Sit down. And get to work.”

  It was a whisper that filtered through his grinding teeth. I felt the anger rushing through my cheeks. My face was next to his neck. Close enough to take in the sweet smell of his cologne and spice of his shampoo. Nerves fired and swirled in my stomach, causing it to constrict.

  He may have controlled everyone in the office, but he wouldn’t control me. Not like that. “Go fuck yourself,” I whispered.

  Nobody else could hear what was said, but everyone still stared with their heads all perched up like meerkats on the Discovery Channel.

  “Conference room one. Now!” His voice boomed in my ear and ricocheted off the walls. He straightened up and peered around the room. “Back to work!”

  Everybody in the place shot down to their chairs, and their heads disappeared.

  He turned his gaze back to me. I wasn’t moving. Not for him.

  I whispered once more, to avoid anyone looking over and getting in trouble. But it was a commanding whisper so that he’d know I meant it. “I will make you look like an idiot in front of these people if you talk to me like that again. Now go apologize to her.”

  I nodded toward Jill. She shook in her chair, rapping on her keyboard.

  “After I talk to you in private.”

  “Fine.”

  I glanced to my desk and said a quiet goodbye in my mind, because I was almost certain my time at Mason and Associates had come to an end. It was fine by me. No amount of money was worth working for this asshole. I shoved past him and started toward the windowless conference room.

  His shadow in front of me and the sound of his feet behind me had adrenaline pumping through my body. All of it radiated straight between my legs, and I hated myself for being aroused by his commanding presence. What the hell was wrong with me?

  Fear crept along my skin when I stepped through the conference room door. It slammed shut behind me and a gasp escaped my lips. Had he heard it?

  “Don’t ever undermine me in front of my employees.”

  Fuck, the timbre in his voice sent heat straight to my pussy. I hated my body for it. When I started to reply, his fingers wrapped around the back of my arm.

  Skin on skin contact sent currents of electricity to my clit. Jesus. I fought it with everything I had. I tried to ignore his touc
h, ignore his presence, anything to get a few words to escape my lips instead of a breathy exhale.

  “They’re not property. You don’t own them,” I goaded him. I could’ve tried to smooth it over, keep my job, be able to pay Dad’s bills. But part of me wanted to see how mad I could make him.

  “The fuck I don’t. I pay them to do a job, and it’s to be done to my specifications. If they don’t like it, they can get the fuck out and work somewhere else.”

  I whipped around to face him. His brow furrowed and his eyes were cold and icy. Who made him this way? Why was he like this? This wasn’t the man who texted to check in on me. The one who was allowing me flex hours to take care of my dad.

  “You’re a bully. And an asshole. And you can go fuck yourself. And I quit.” I had to add that last part because I knew I had screwed the pooch and was totally unemployed now.

  He closed the gap between us with one step. Every bit of air rushed from my lungs and I gulped.

  “You’re so self-righteous, aren’t you?” He traced a finger down my cheek and looked over to make sure we couldn’t be seen. The lights were off and he backed me toward a dark corner of the office. “Always need the last word. Always defiant.”

  “Is that why you hired me? To play some sick game? Someone finally gave you some of your own shit and you couldn’t dare let them get away with it?”

  The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly into a devilish grin, just for a split-second. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Let me tell you something, Miss Jackson—”

  My back rammed against the far wall of the conference room, and a haze formed over my thoughts when he leaned down into my ear. I pulled myself together.

  “I know you don’t like a woman challenging you. And you don’t like being corrected by a woman who’s smarter than you.”

  The devilish smile disappeared and his hands gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head. His mouth was a blue flame in my ear and my legs tried to melt into the floor.

  “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  I should’ve been scared we’d be caught. I should’ve screamed and fought and filed a lawsuit against him and shut his agency down. My body wanted to find out what he could do to me. Each time he touched me I was alive, and each time he tried to own me, my body wanted to give in. What would happen if I did? I’d never felt like this before, and I needed more of it, even when my brain told me it was a mistake. Every time he gave me a glimpse of a decent person behind the walls he’d put up, he closed it off and shut everyone out. The more I pushed him, the harder he pushed back. And then the walls would lower a bit more, before going up higher. It was a sick game, and one that I seemed to enjoy playing.

  “Does this make you feel more powerful? Is it because you have a small dick? Is that what this is about?”

  I nearly blushed at my words because I’d never said anything like that to a guy. Regret began to fill my body when his hips surged against me, his hard cock shoving up against my clit. I nearly came through the layers of fabric between us, and a moan rolled off my lips before I could capture it in my throat. The size of his cock was the first thing I’d been wrong about.

  “That’s exactly it, Miss Jackson. I have a small dick. That’s what the problem is.” He pressed into me a little harder. “Now get back to work.”

  He released my wrists and spun around.

  My breaths were heavy and labored, my face pink as I watched him blast through the conference room door. My head fell back into the wall with a thud, and my thighs quaked. It seemed Kelsey was a soothsayer of sorts. Ethan had wanted to put me against the wall, and he’d done it. And I had wanted more before he’d left the room.

  And I guess he didn’t accept my resignation.

  Chapter 8

  Ethan Mason

  “So why can’t you date her?” Matt stared and shrugged.

  He’d been my best friend since college. We were teammates and both projected to go in the first round of the draft. I blew out my elbow. Tommy John surgery didn’t fix it. I hit the books and Matt continued to hit home runs.

  In some way it was like fate. Sports analysts said he was insane for allowing me to represent him. The deal I got for him was insane, and I started my agency with the commission from it.

  “You know why.” I returned his stare and cocked an eyebrow.

  “Ohh, right. Shit that had nothing to do with you. Got it.”

  Matt was sharp, and the best friend a guy could ask for.

  “Shit!” I barked at the screen.

  His player on my eighty-inch television intercepted my pass. Madden on Xbox 360 was our thing, when we weren’t working out or at the ballfield. He didn’t know what he was talking about in this case though. Matt knew everything that happened when I was younger, long before I’d met him. But he didn’t see what it did to my family. He didn’t live it like I had.

  “Just forget it.”

  “So what happened with you and her anyway? You’ve been weird as hell the last day or two.” He took a swig from his Bud Light bottle and set the controller down. “You haven’t been right for weeks, come to think of it.”

  It wasn’t a discussion I really wanted to have at the moment. I never should have hired Jenny Jackson. I knew better. God, the way she stood up to me—defied me. I’d never been so fucking hard in my life. I barely refrained from rubbing one out in my office, and I damn sure left at five sharp for the first time in history to go home and take care of the situation.

  “It’s just a crush. It’ll pass.” It was a lie and I knew he’d see right through it.

  “Whatever you say, buddy. Just ask her on a fucking date. It’s really not that hard to do.” He chuckled.

  “Sure.” I flipped the input channel on the television so that SportsCenter was on. Matt’s face was huge on the screen. His contract was up for renegotiation at the end of the season and it was all any of the talking heads were babbling about. It’s also one of the reasons I ripped Jill a new asshole. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with simple tasks when I needed to focus on my best friend’s financial well-being. “I bet it’s hard to get a date when your pretty face is playing on every television in the universe.”

  Matt grinned. “Regardless, if I liked a girl, I’d ask her out. That’s just what you do.” He waved his arm out in front of him like he was stating the obvious.

  “It’s just a bad idea in principle. Don’t shit where you eat.” I needed to change the subject or distract him somehow. It was nearly impossible when he was fixated on something. “Rothstone’s contract is almost up. Why don’t you put in a good word for me? His agent is a prick and not going to get near the value I would.”

  “No work stuff today, bro. You know the rules.” He gave me a pretend-angry side eye as he took another big swig of beer.

  I held up my hands in defense. “Hey, you brought up work. Not me.”

  “I brought up the girl you’re all whipped over. Not work.” He chuckled.

  I popped him on the elbow and beer flew up his nose and splattered on his forehead. He sat there, staring down at his beer bottle, while I tried not to let the laughter erupt from my face. It was difficult, seeing as how his cheeks were puffed out like a hamster’s.

  His face turned pink and he tried to fight back his own laugh. “You’re gonna pay for that. You pitchers are always pushing the limits of fuckery. But I’m bigger than you.”

  He lunged and I shot over my coffee table and across the living room as he barreled after me. “I’m faster, fat boy!” I hollered over my shoulder and bolted around the corner of the staircase, grabbing a pillar with my left arm to make the turn.

  He’d gone the other way and I slammed into him. Before I knew it his large biceps was wrapped around my head and his knuckle was running back and forth across my scalp.

  “Say ‘uncle,’ bitch!”

  I shook my head. A hundred million dollars of net worth combined between the two of us, and we were acting li
ke ten-year-old boys in a million-dollar house. He was always professional in the office, but get us alone where people weren’t watching, and this was the norm. I wished Jenny could see this side of me. “Fine, uncle.”

  There was no way I was escaping his grip, so I let him have his little victory. He ran up my stairs like Rocky and then came back down. “All right, it’s been fun dicking off, but I need to go run a few errands. Next week?”

  “Always, man.”

  We bumped fists and he walked toward the door. “Ask her out, pussy,” he called over his shoulder without turning around.

  I shook my head as he closed the door behind him.

  —

  I’d read the contract on my coffee table at least thirty-two times and couldn’t process one word of it. Jenny. Jenny. Always fucking Jenny Jackson. She was all I thought about. I pulled out my phone and stared at her name and our previous messages no less than thirty-two times—read and dissected each one of them with the same care the contracts on my table should’ve been given.

  How does she do this to me?

  The angel and devil had a hell of a back and forth in my brain.

  Angel Ethan: Apologize to her.

  Devil Ethan: Fuck that, it shows weakness.

  Angel Ethan: You could have something with her and have your company. Maybe the company would be even better.

  Devil Ethan: You’ve seen what can happen with your own two eyes. Don’t risk it. There are plenty of women to fuck who don’t work for you.

  Angel Ethan: Yeah, but you don’t have feelings for any of them. None of them are Jenny. Apologize.

 

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