Hating My New Boss

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Hating My New Boss Page 11

by Hamel, B. B.


  But there’s nobody.

  “They must’ve left,” Tara said, an edge of panic in her voice. “I’m really sorry, Justin.”

  “Get me a ride to the airport,” I say.

  “Okay.”

  “And, Tara.”

  She turns back to me.

  “Hurry.”

  She nods, and runs back inside.

  I’m left standing on the steps, trying to figure out how I can get through this in one piece.

  * * *

  I reach the Honolulu airport after an agonizingly slow ride through the jungle with a Russian driver named Dmitri. He says two words to me the whole time: “Arms in.”

  I spend the rest of the drive staring out at the forest crawling past as we head back into civilization.

  Once Dmitri drops me off, I turn back to him. “Wait for me,” I say.

  The man stares back. I take out my wallet and shove two twenties at him.

  He takes the money. “One hour.”

  I nod and turn back to the terminal, walking fast inside.

  I stare around, not sure where I’ll find Remi. I check out the outgoing flights and find one single direct ride from here back to the city, taking off in a half hour.

  I buy a ticket. I don’t plan on getting on that plane, but I need it to get through security.

  They pat me down, give me a weird look for not having any baggage, and I practically run to C23. My heart’s racing the whole time.

  Remi’s sitting alone, her legs crossed, earbuds in her ears. Her bag is sitting at her feet.

  I walk up to her slowly. She doesn’t notice me until I sit down across from her.

  She doesn’t look happy. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

  “Flying back with you,” I say.

  “Flying—what? No, Justin. I’m done with this.”

  “Remi,” I say softly. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  She looks pissed, and she’s fucking beautiful when she’s pissed. I want her now more than ever.

  “What am I doing, then?”

  “I told my father to fuck off,” I say.

  “Good for you.”

  “He’s gone, Remi. Come back with me.”

  “No.” She shakes her head, eyes flashing. “It’s not just about him.”

  “What’s it about, then? You’re still angry with me for mistakes I made years ago?” I lean toward her, my own eyes glaring daggers. “I’m tired of your spite. I know what you really want, and I know I can give it to you.”

  She blushes softly and looks away. I know she’s thinking about that night in the pool. “I can’t,” she says.

  “You will.” I stand up. “You need another taste, and you can’t leave this project unfinished. You’re not that kind of person.”

  She looks back at me, conflicted. “He has to be gone.”

  “He will be.”

  “And… you need to keep your distance. I’m not okay with you.”

  “I know you’re not.” I lean down toward her. “You don’t have to be to get fucked by me.”

  She glares again, and I reach out to grab her wrist. She doesn’t fight as I pull her to her feet.

  “I’m not coming back because of you,” she says. “I’m coming back because the flight’s delayed until tomorrow.”

  I hesitate before looking over her shoulder at the big board near the check-in desk. Sure enough, it’s marked as delayed.

  I laugh softly to myself. “Nobody told me up front.”

  “Of course not. It just happened like two minutes ago.”

  “Lucky me, I guess.”

  “I guess.”

  I pull her closer against me. “You might hate me, but you’re going to work with me.”

  I kiss her, hard and fierce. She returns my kiss with the same amount of anger.

  I don’t know why we push each other away, why we keep each other apart. We hate the same things, hate the same people, and feel good when we’re together.

  But nothing’s ever simple. Nothing’s easy.

  We break the kiss off and she glares at me. “Don’t be an asshole.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Let’s get back to work.”

  She follows me through the terminal. I know I have a delayed flight to thank for this, but I still believe she’s coming back purely because she really wants me.

  I’ll find out, one way or another.

  19

  Remi

  I don’t know what I would’ve done if that flight hadn’t been delayed. In my mind, I would’ve gotten on it and left, and I’m only heading back to the compound with Justin because I’d rather suffer there than suffer alone in the Honolulu airport.

  I like to think that I’m strong, that I stand up for my principles no matter what.

  Really, I think I’m just weak for him.

  I keep sneaking glances as we speed back through the jungle, the Russian guy behind the wheel not saying a single word the whole way back. Justin’s so handsome, and I keep wondering what’s going on behind those pretty eyes.

  He’s too attractive for my own good, and that’s just another reason to hate him.

  The reasons keep piling up, one on top of the other.

  Except they all feel fragile, built on top of a belief or maybe a lie from a long time ago that I don’t feel strongly about anymore. The two Justins inside my mind are still both there, still fighting over me, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  One thing’s for sure though, if his father is still there when we arrive, I’m really fucking leaving. Suffering in an airport alone or not, there’s no way I’ll sleep in the same building as that bastard.

  I think back to the way Justin spoke to his father in the cafeteria. He was stern, almost distant, like he hated his own father as much as I hate the slimy bastard. Maybe he really doesn’t get along with him, maybe they really are estranged. I don’t know what could’ve happened to cause it…

  Except part of me knows, deep down inside. I remember things from my childhood about Justin that I haven’t really thought about, things that never totally added up. Things I’ve blocked out.

  Bruises, bloodstains, tears in his eyes. Comments about finding his father lying on the floor, completely unconscious. The way they all tiptoed around the guy back then like he was liable to explode at any moment.

  And the fear. Always the fear. He never wanted to go home.

  I shake my head. I don’t know what happened in that house, what that asshole did to Justin. I don’t really want to know.

  If I remembered it all, I don’t think I could hate Justin, but I need that hate.

  Especially now.

  The Russian driver drops us off and Tara meets us at the top of the steps. She smiles at me and I can’t help but smile back.

  “You didn’t leave,” she says.

  “Delayed flight.”

  Her face falters. “Are you still going then?”

  “Maybe,” I admit, glancing at Justin. “Depends. Is his dad still here?”

  “No,” she answers, shaking he head. “Mr. Hayes got a ride back an hour ago.”

  I let out a breath and Justin gives me a stern look.

  “Thanks, Tara. Could you take us back to our rooms?”

  “Sure. Right this way.” She disappears inside.

  I take a step but Justin grabs my wrist. “I told you he’d be gone.”

  “Just making sure.”

  His grip tightens. “Remi. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Do you?”

  He frowns slightly, face screwed up, but he lets my wrist go. I follow after Tara and I can feel Justin coming behind me.

  This time, the trip through the building isn’t so disorienting, and I actually recognize some landmarks. A big yellow palm print on the side of a car on one wall. Circular, swirling carvings on a door. The sounds of people talking, drifting from arches that lead toward plunging stairwells.

  I get the sense that this place is bigger than we re
alize.

  We come into the residential area again and Tara deposits us at our rooms. She leaves and as I go to enter my room, I feel Justin step up behind me.

  “Maybe you should’ve run,” he says softly. I feel his hands find my hips. “Since you seem to still hate me so much.”

  I look over my shoulder. “What are you gonna do about it?” I ask softly.

  Rage and desire fill his eyes. He turns me, pinning me up against the door.

  I feel that lust inside, mind melting, nearly insane. I shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t let him touch me like this.

  I kiss him back when his lips meet mine, ravenous for his taste. He reaches fingers through my hair, pulls it, bites my lower lip. His body pins me against the wall and I can’t move, can’t get away, although I don’t want to go anywhere.

  I want to drink this in like moonlight.

  I feel him doing something behind me and realize he’s turning the key in the lock. The door swings open behind me and I stumble into the room. He switches on a light but doesn’t stop, following me toward the bed. I’m walking backwards and he comes for me, shoulders set, eyes shining.

  He pulls me against him before I can fall backwards. His hands pull into my hair, making me gasp. His lips find my neck and I groan, pushing closer to him.

  “This is why you stayed,” he whispers as he pulls my shirt off. “Fuck that delayed flight.”

  “You don’t know why I’m here,” I gasp as he bites my shoulder and pushes me away. I fall back onto the bed.

  He drops to his knees. “You think you’re so hard to read, Remi?” He smirks, tugging my jeans down over my hips. “You think you’re so mysterious?”

  “No, I think you’re not as smart as you think.”

  His smirk widens. “I think you’re wrong.” His fingers tug my panties off, not wasting any time. When they’re off, he’s up and on top of me, pinning me to the bed.

  He takes my wrists, putting them above my head, holding them there with one large hand.

  “You’ve been a very bad employee, you know that?” He whispers his words in my ear, keeping me completely pinned.

  “You’ve been a shitty boss.”

  “I’ve been too easy on you.”

  “You needed me.”

  “I don’t need you anymore.” He sits back, eyes flashing. “I want you.”

  His kiss is hungry again, and I love his taste, I love his words. He pisses me off, that arrogant asshole, but he pushes me in the right direction. I can feel myself driven wild by his hands on my skin. I want more of it so badly I can barely think but I know I have to keep calm.

  I can’t lose myself. I can’t let him take that from me.

  But his free hand finds my pussy, and pleasure blossoms through my skin. He rolls my clit under his fingers and I groan, whispering his name. It feels so fucking good, but no, I won’t fall prey to him.

  He pins my wrists harder. He bites my lip. His fingers slide inside of my pussy.

  I’m not sure I really have a choice.

  Moans escape my lips. He drops back down my body and onto the floor, spreading my legs. I go to move back but he grabs them, pulling me tight against him. He holds me there as I wrap my fingers in his hair, and his tongue starts to lap my clit, doing the thing that drives me completely wild.

  His face is buried in my pussy, sucking and licking and lapping me up. I tighten my legs around him and pull his hair. I want to suffocate him, make him drown in me. He only keeps going, sucking, licking, driving me wild.

  He pushes me back down, flat onto my back, and pries my legs open. He pushes them wide open and licks my clit with the tip of his tongue while he drives two fingers into my pussy. I groan, sitting up on my elbows, watching him look up at me with those startling eyes.

  I reach down to grab his hair, hold it with one hand, pleasure wracking my whole body. My breasts shake as I moan and twitch, letting him push me further and deeper into desire.

  He pulls back just in time. The orgasm is there, so close, but he pushes it away. He stands and undresses and I’m force to watch him, until he’s standing naked in front of me, cock hard and in one hand.

  He pulls me up and I take his tip into my mouth. I suck him eagerly, intensely. My lips almost hurt from the force as he pushes his cock into my throat. I gag but I don’t stop. Tears are in my eyes.

  I suck him faster. I need it so badly, his big, thick cock, stretching my mouth open, barely fitting into my throat. It’s an intensity I’ve never felt before.

  He pulls me back by the hair and I gasp, a string of spit between his tip and my lips.

  “Fuck, girl,” he whispers. “You’re so fucking sexy, it drives me wild.” He bends me forward and I put my hand on his knees. He reaches down and slaps my ass. “Look at this. You’re fucking perfect.” He pulls me back up by the hair and I groan.

  He pushes me back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. His thick cock teases me, slides up and down my soaked slit before he plunges himself inside. Pleasure and pain mix as he leans on top of me, pinning my hands above my head again, stroking himself deeper and deeper.

  I moan into his ear. I’m nothing but a ball of desire and pleasure begging him to keep fucking me. I need his cock more than I ever thought possible.

  Panting and moaning, I can’t tell where I end and where he begins. His dick ravages me as he thrusts harder. One of his hands moves onto my throat and holds me there, pushing me down into the mattress as he fucks me harder.

  He pulls back, grabbing my hips, turning me over. I roll onto my stomach and he spreads my ass wide as his cock slides into my pussy again. He holds my hips and fucks me like that, lying out flat on my stomach. I look over my shoulder at him as he keeps stroking, sliding in and out, fucking me deep.

  I roll my hips. He pulls me up, off my belly, lets my support myself with my hands and my knees. He rocks into me and slaps my ass, harder than I expected. I gasp and buck forward, but he grabs me, pulls me back. He doesn’t let me get away. He slaps my ass again, just as hard, but this time he sinks inside me. I groan, rolling my hips, pushing back against him.

  I ride his length, slowly and perfectly. It’s driving me absolutely insane as I take him, every inch of his thick, long cock. I know I’ll be sore after this and I’m already looking forward to it.

  He slaps my ass again, grabs my hair, and ravages me. He fucks me hard, rocking deeper and deeper. I move my hips and my ass and my back, riding him, pushing back against him. I love his slap as he takes me, rough and deep.

  I groan as his lips find my ear. “I want to see bruises,” he says softly. “Fingerprints on your perfect ass, so everyone knows who owns you.”

  “You don’t own me.”

  “I’m your boss. Everything you have is mine, every inch of you is mine.” He strokes again, again, and his hand finds my throat. “Remi, fight all you want, but you’re fucking mine.”

  I moan and move my ass, needing it so badly I can barely breathe. I can feel the orgasm building again and this time he’s not slowing down.

  Another spank, and another. Pain and pleasure making each other sickly sweet. I feel so good I’m falling. I keep moving my hips, sliding along his length, my body tightening, tightening.

  He senses it, pulls my hair, fucks me faster. I moan and pant and gasp as the orgasm slowly rides through me, bewildering and overwhelming. I moan his name, begging him to keep going, and he doesn’t slow down. He strokes, pumps, fucks me. I’m his toy, and he can do whatever he wants.

  He owns me. Every inch of me.

  My orgasm blows through me, almost too much. As it peaks and starts to ebb, I feel him tighten. I feel his hands grip my hips. He pumps into me faster, faster, and I can hear his grunts get deeper.

  He comes inside my pussy as my orgasm finishes. I wiggle my hips and ride back, helping him along. I feel his cum fill me, spurting deep and hot and I love it. I groan and whisper his name as he finishes, pulling himself off, cum dripping from his tip to my battered and soaked puss
y.

  He sighs and rolls back onto the bed next to me. I cuddle up against his chest, slick with sweat. My hair’s damp from exertion.

  “That’s why you came back,” he says with a grin.

  I smile against his skin. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Remi.” He grabs my hair, pulls it back, but gently. “I meant what I said.”

  I meet his eyes, and I believe him. He lets my hair go and I return my cheek to his chest, his beating heart in my ear.

  20

  Justin

  We eat dinner together in the Ikea cafeteria. I don’t expect much, but the food is actually pretty good.

  We spent most of the afternoon in bed. We took a break to shower, but even that turned into more fucking, her body against mine, her taste in my mouth, everything about her pushing up against everything about me.

  And now I’m starved. Fucking that much really works up an appetite.

  Remi’s picking at her food as I eat with gusto. She sticks to salad while I indulge in the classics: steak, potatoes. I shovel it down along with a glass of scotch, which was dispensed from a soda dispenser, the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.

  But I can’t complain about a scotch dispenser.

  I look up and Remi’s still picking at her food. I frown a little, leaning back in my chair. Maybe a half hour ago, she was moaning under my hands, begging me for more, a huge smile on her face. Now she looks downright fucking sad, and I don’t know why.

  “What’s up?” I ask her.

  She looks at me and shrugs. “Not much.”

  “You look depressed.”

  I spot the signs right away. Biting her lip, looking away. “I’m fine.”

  “Liar. You might as well be twirling your hair. What’s up?”

  She hesitates, takes a breath, and lets it out. “We came here to figure out how to help Blair, right?”

  “Right,” I confirm.

  “I don’t feel like we’ve done all that much helping yet.”

  I lean across the table. “Just lots of fucking.”

  She blushes, which is what I was going for. “Yeah, I mean, some of that.”

 

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