My Boyfriend's Boss: A Forbidden Bad Boy Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  She followed me, her silhouette painfully thin, like an x-ray moving through the apartment. Did she get enough to eat? I wondered for a moment if she was starving herself. In fact, I was starting to doubt that she’d ever been pregnant, truth be told. You can’t possibly be fertile if you never eat.

  But Patricia didn’t say anything, instead brushing off my suit jacket, picking off some stray lint. I thought I saw a long blonde hair fall to the floor, but it could have been my imagination. I turned to her impatiently and barked, “Quit with the caring wife routine okay? You’ve never been particularly domestic or warm, so I find your efforts hypocritical and fake. Stop,” I commanded.

  The viper hissed at me, literally hissed, her black eyebrows rising like evil points.

  “What do you want?” she said nastily. “I was there for you when you were feeling down and now you don’t reward me?”

  “Reward you with what? An engagement ring?” I growled. “Listen, any number of women would have put out even if I was a drunk, depressed mess back then. Hell, I could have gone to a professional and gotten my needs taken care of, so don’t overrate what you offered.” Looking back, I wish I had used a professional, it would have been easier considering the mess I was in now.

  But it was too late.

  “You’re going to regret it,” hissed Patricia again, her green eyes freezing with cold, dead heat. “Trust me, you will,” she said before flouncing off into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Because we’d actually never shared a bedroom, I couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping next to that ice princess, she might stab me in the heart as I slumbered. And I sure as hell hadn’t fucked her in months, certainly not since Kacey had come into our lives.

  So I walked back into the kitchen, helping myself to the spare ribs as I contemplated my future. The thing is, interacting with Kacey had clarified so much. The blonde was warm and loving, everything I was looking for in a woman, with a sweetness and light that lit up my world. Patricia was the opposite, a dark, shadowy presence that brought out the worst in me. I wanted the bitch out of my life, and the question was how to do it pronto.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Logan

  My phone rang, the shrill sound banging against my ear drums. Impatiently I glanced at the screen. Fuck, it was Lance again, and I picked up.

  “What?” I growled. “This better be good.” We had a developer coming in today to discuss a collaboration on new construction in Tribeca. The sell-out would be around $300 million, making our commission a cool $9 million.

  “Brother, where’ve you been?” asked Lance, his voice curiously neutral. “We’ve been trying to reach you for a couple hours now.”

  “Working, what else? Sorry if I haven’t taken your calls, princess, but we have a major meeting today or did you forget?” I snapped.

  “Brother,” said Lance, ignoring my ill temper. “It’s about Kacey … and Patricia.”

  “What?” I gasped. WTF? They didn’t even know each other.

  As if reading my mind, Lance spoke dryly.

  “You didn’t think you were going to keep our affair with Kacey hidden, did you? Patricia skunked it all out and came after our girl today.”

  I was speechless. Sure, I’d figured Patricia was going to do something reckless like tear up the apartment, maybe knife all my clothes and slash my car tires. But I didn’t think she’d hurt someone, much less go after our younger sister.

  But I guess male arrogance had clouded my judgment. A woman scorned is the worst type of enemy and by dumping her, I was leaving Patricia high and dry. Of course, if she’d been resourceful like Kacey she could’ve gotten a job at the Donkey too, but I guess Patricia was too good for work … any type of work.

  “What is it?” I sighed. Fuck, I’d fucked up. But the news was even worse than I thought.

  “Logan,” said my brother slowly. “Patricia must have stalked Kacey for a while and put two and two together. Remember Dyke Bridge?”

  My chest constricted. Of course I remembered Dyke Bridge. It was the location where I’d driven into the pond, leading to Kathryn’s drowning.

  “Patricia took your car this morning, Logan,” said my brother slowly. “Somehow she convinced Kacey to get in and she drove them over the bridge and into the water, reenacting your accident. The car landed upside down, and Kacey managed to get out, but she’s in critical condition at the hospital. Patricia died, brother,” he said, his tone stark.

  Holy fucking shit. All the blood drained from my body and I sat as still as a stone at my desk. Patricia had gone much further than I’d envisioned. Shit, that dead bitch was malevolent.

  And the worst part was that she’d purposefully mirrored my tragic accident from seven years ago. She’d wanted the publicity, I realized. She wanted our parents to know that her death was on our hands, and that we’d fucked her over by screwing our stepsister.

  I didn’t know what to say other than, “Where’s Kacey at?”

  “Sloan-Kettering,” said my brother. “You better get to the hospital quick.”

  And I bolted from my desk, desperate to see my love again.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lance

  This was a fucking nightmare. I knew that bitch was going to cause our demise and she had indeed. Patricia was a fucking whore, a whore too smart for her own good who’d ended her own life in some kind of misbegotten revenge.

  But the thing was, it wasn’t an accident. She’d somehow convinced Kacey to get into the car with her, and the bitch had driven them off the bridge, purposefully crashing the car into the water. I ground my teeth at the evilness that ran in that witch’s veins.

  But as I looked at our stepsister, my heart was filled with remorse. For whom, I don’t know. For Kacey, who was in critical condition, her form pale and motionless under the sheet. For me and my brother, who’d survived the death of Kathryn, only to have the incident repeated now. And even for Patricia, whose misplaced jealousy and hatred had fatal consequences.

  Logan burst into the hospital room, his eyes wild, his suit askew. He immediately took in the situation and knelt at Kacey’s side, taking her lifeless hand in his big fist.

  “Please baby,” he pleaded. “Please wake up. I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

  How Patricia persuaded Kacey into the car, we’ll never know. But we were in for the shock of our lives.

  “Are you Ms. Donagan’s next of kin?” a doctor asked, coming into the room.

  “Yes, we’re her brothers,” I confirmed. “Our parents are currently unavailable, she has no one other than us right now. How is Kacey? Is she going to be okay?” I demanded. Logan growled, determined the rip the medical charts out of the doctor’s hands if necessary.

  “Mister … I’m sorry, what was your name?” the doctor asked.

  “I’m Lance Phillips and this is my twin Logan,” I said quickly. “Kacey is our sister. Now about our sister, is she going to be alright?” I rushed.

  “Mr. Phillips,” said the doctor slowly, nodding at both of us. “Kacey will likely be fine … as will her baby.”

  Hearing the words, both Logan and I fell back, stunned. Our sister was pregnant! With our baby, holy shit. And suddenly everything shifted, it was like shapes coming into clarity, colors becoming brighter, more vibrant. Because I realized that the most important thing in the world wasn’t Patricia’s evil revenge, grieving over Kathryn, or any fall-out from the imminent discovery of our pseudo-incestuous relationship. Instead, the rightful focus was our sister and the impending baby on the way … our son or daughter.

  “Doctor,” I said roughly. “How long before Kacey wakes from the coma?”

  The doctor looked at me strangely. “She’s not in a coma,” he replied. “She’s merely resting. The car crash and swim to safety exhausted her. We gave her fluids, but she’s fine,” assured the doctor.

  Blood rushed back into my body and I swore to the heavens that I’d do my best by my sister and the child. I’d never been so grateful to hear
such words.

  “Thank you,” said Logan fervently. “We’ll take good care of her.”

  “She’ll be under observation for a few more hours, but she should wake soon and you’ll be able to take her home,” said the doctor briskly. “Any more questions I can answer for you, Mr. Phillips?” he asked.

  “No,” my brother and I said simultaneously. “Thank you for your service.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kacey

  When I came to the world was a bit fuzzy, but so long as I wasn’t in water anymore, I was okay. My brothers grasped my hands in theirs when they realized I was awake, stroking my palm and my hair.

  “Baby,” said Logan. “How are you feeling?”

  “Honey,” said Lance. “Why didn’t you tell us you were pregnant?”

  The truth was, I’d only recently found out about the pregnancy myself and was still deciding the best way to tell them. I wasn’t sure how they’d react. I mean, we’d never used protection, always bareback, and there had been a lot of fucking in recent months. So it was only natural that I’d get pregnant, right? After all, I was a fertile nineteen year-old woman.

  Nonetheless, I was still nervous and had literally been in the midst of a home pregnancy test when the doorman buzzed, announcing that a “Patricia” was downstairs. I was confused. I’d heard my brothers speaking about Patricia occasionally, but only in hushed tones when they thought I couldn’t hear. I’d figured she was a problem employee or something of that sort.

  So I was wary about letting her come up to Lance’s apartment. Instead, I’d walked downstairs, figuring she couldn’t do any harm to me in the lobby.

  And the woman had been charming, vivacious, even friendly, grabbing my arm and making buddy-buddy. My suspicions were raised, but she was prepared.

  “You’re Kacey, right?” she purred.

  “Yes,” I said tentatively. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I’m a friend of Logan’s,” she said confidentially. “And I just wanted to show you something.” She whipped an old newspaper from her designer purse, the headlines screaming, “CURVY BLONDE DROWNS AT DYKE POND.”

  All the blood drained from my face as I scanned the story. Evidently, Logan and Lance had been involved with a girl named Kathryn long ago, who had died when Logan drove a car off a bridge into a lake. The worst part was that he hadn’t reported the accident for several hours. Instead, he’d wandered around the neighborhood, talking gibberish to himself, instead of calling for help from a neighbor or dialing 911.

  I didn’t know what to think. The incident had been ruled an accident, but Patricia tried to persuade me otherwise.

  “Come on, get in the car and I’ll take you to Dyke Bridge,” she’d said. “It’s a walking overpass, more of a dock even, you can see for yourself.”

  Like a dummy, I’d gotten in, cradling my belly, unable to still the crazy whirl of my thoughts. Was the father of my child a murderer?

  The drive started off okay. Patricia chatted amiably about shopping, her life, how she knew Lance and Logan. But something was fishy. When I asked her why she was driving Logan’s car, she’d brushed it off, saying Logan let her borrow it once in a while. That couldn’t be right. I knew Logan got antsy when anyone drove his car, even parking valets. And that wasn’t all. Patricia knew too many details about me, like the fact that I was a dancer at the Donkey Club.

  And as we got closer to the bridge, I realized I’d made a huge mistake. The woman was starting to jabber, her manner becoming overblown and crazy, her words fast, almost manic, eyes rolling in her head.

  “Patricia,” I said calmly, “why don’t we stop for a bathroom break? I could use one.”

  “We’re almost there,” she snapped.

  “But there won’t be any bathrooms at the bridge,” I said reasonably. “I need to go now.”

  And she turned on me, the bitch showing her true colors. Before I realized it, she’d slammed the childproof locks into place and picked up speed, barreling down the highway at 80 miles an hour. I saw the sign for “Dyke Bridge” whiz past, and then the bridge itself with the lake beyond.

  Suddenly, I realized what she intended to do. Slowly, I put my hand on a crowbar I’d seen under the passenger seat and gripped it. When the car plunged off the bridge into the water, I immediately smashed the window, managing to extricate myself from the vehicle and swim to the dock. Panting and exhausted, I’d hauled myself up, watching as the car sank slowly into the water, only bubbles showing where it’d once been.

  I couldn’t move, I was too tired from the frenetic escape, and when voices approached, a woman’s voice asking, “Ma’am, ma’am, are you okay?” I let the black take over, dropping off into unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Kacey

  One year later …

  So that’s how I came to know my stepbrothers’ startling past, that they’d once loved a girl who was dead now. Her resemblance to me was uncanny, and I had to ask.

  “Patricia mentioned that you were drawn to me because I look like Kathryn, your ex-girlfriend,” I said slowly. “Is it true?”

  My brothers took their time answering.

  “Baby, we’d be lying if we said it wasn’t,” began Lance, “because you do look like her. The moment we saw you in the Donkey Club, it was like Kathryn come back to life, seven years later.”

  “But you are your own person,” stated Logan emphatically. “We’ve gotten to know you in the months since, and while you are like her in some ways, curvy, sassy, sweet and intelligent, you’re also different. You’re the woman who’s our baby’s mother, and Kathryn was a girl we met at summer camp, nothing but a teenage love.”

  “Please believe us,” continued Lance, “when we say we’re absolutely committed to you and our son, one hundred percent.”

  Because baby Luke had been born two months ago, and was the center of our lives. With his black hair and green eyes, he was a miniature of his daddies, his gurgles and coos ringing through the apartment at all hours.

  And I decided to trust my gut instinct. I had no sense that I was a replacement for another woman in the months that I’d known Logan and Lance, no sense that they were trying to fill a gap in their lives through me. Instead, I knew that my brothers treasured me, that the baby and I were their number one priorities now.

  But I still had more questions.

  “Logan,” I said slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me about Patricia? She said you were engaged.”

  His face turned ashen.

  “We were never engaged,” he ground out harshly. “That was all in her dreams. She lived with me because she helped me through a hard time, but we didn’t even share a bedroom and I certainly didn’t fuck her after meeting you.”

  “Are you moving in with us now?” I asked tentatively.

  Logan and Lance shared a glance.

  “Sister,” said Lance, taking my hand. “We want to start a life with you. We want to get a bigger apartment, a family-sized apartment, for the three of us and the baby … and more babies to come,” he murmured.

  “Yes,” added Logan. “We want Luke to have a sister … and maybe another sister and another brother,” he grinned.

  My heart started beating fast. That was four children! But my brothers had foreseen my startled reaction.

  “Don’t worry honey, we’ll get nannies to help,” chuckled Lance.

  “And the kids won’t want for anything,” promised Logan. “But there’s no time to lose right? Four kids is a lot, and we’re only on number one right now,” he said, looking my body up and down, appreciating those sassy curves.

  Suddenly, I knew why I was with these men. They hadn’t cared what the world thought. Not that we were step-siblings, not that they were having a baby with their sister, not that their reputations had been tarnished by two suspicious deaths. Instead, Logan and Lance were totally committed to doing right by me and my baby.

  So I felt loved, completely and totally loved by my steps,
my heart beating faster as I leaned forward to kiss them.

  “Logan,” I murmured, “Lance.”

  “God, I love hearing you say our names,” growled Logan. “Come here, sister.”

  And he swept me onto his lap, sweetly kissing my neck, trailing his tongue against the elegant slope of my shoulder. Although I’d given birth only two months earlier, my body had bounced back remarkably well, on show in a clingy rose-colored shift.

  “Let’s see what we have here,” rumbled Lance, getting on his knees between my legs. He lifted the hem of the pink dress, exposing my thighs inch by inch. My legs parted of their own volition as he watched with hungry eyes, revealing the moistness at my center, that part of my body wet and desperate for my brothers’ attentions.

  “Sweetheart,” growled Lance, never taking his eyes from my cunt. “Are you ready for loving again? Is your body ready?”

  I smiled at him, even as Logan squeezed and massaged my teats. “Yes, brothers, it’s going to be okay. In fact, I was thinking of giving you an extra treat.”

  “Oh really?” murmured Logan, whispering in my ear as his hands glided over my creamy flesh, stimulating my nipples, tweaking and pulling, making me gasp. “What would that be?”

  I slowly extricated myself from their arms and skipped over to the bathroom.

  “You’ll see, just give me a moment,” I shot over my shoulder with a wink. “I’ll be right out.”

  And I took a quick shower, sudsing myself up, shaving my pussy so it was bald, making myself beautiful. Labor and delivery had been hard, but I was still a woman with two men to please, and I intended to do it like a pro. I wanted to dance for them again, remind them of my sensual rhythm, maybe using a dildo as a prop, self-fucking my chubby pussy while they watched.

  But before I could rinse, the bathroom door banged open, and there stood my two brothers, totally nude, masculine and imposing, their fifteen inch dongs heavy and hard, pointed straight at me.