Kissing the Boss: A Cinderella Story (Fairy Tale Quartet Book 2)

by Linda Kage

  I rolled my eyes and hooked my arm through his. “Come on, it’s not that bad.” I encouraged him through the front door and grinned up at him, wiggling my eyebrows. “The elevator actually works now. Some mysterious, rich benefactor paid to get it fixed a couple months back. So, yay, we don’t have to walk four flights of stairs today.”

  He swallowed as he followed me down the dim, narrow hall toward the darkened recess where outdated elevator doors loomed. Above us, ancient fluorescent lights flickered ominously.

  “Swell,” he said in a dry voice as if he’d rather walk the stairs than ride in the death trap of my building’s elevator.

  “Trust me,” I assured him as I pushed the button. “It’s like good as new. We won’t die.”

  “A ringing endorsement.”

  A ding signaled the opening of the elevator doors.

  Ezra shook his head, hesitated, but then followed me in. As the doors shut, he murmured, “I keep thinking about what you told me and picturing Lana every time I get into one of these things now. And I have this awful sensation I should be nicer to her because of it.”

  I smiled at him sadly. He had such a good heart. “I know,” I agreed. “I’ve given her the benefit of the doubt too many times because of it, too. But trust me, it doesn’t make a difference. I swear, kindness or sympathy to her is like an insult. She sees such emotion as weakness, and they make her more bloodthirsty and determined to attack.”

  “That’s messed up,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “But that’s Lana for you.”

  Ezra studied me intently before he murmured, “You want to fix her, don’t you?”

  I flashed my gaze to his face. He looked too serious for me to crack a lame joke to, so I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, yes, I’d love it if she could work through all the demons plaguing her so she didn’t make everyone around her suffer—me, my brothers, even you, included. Plus, she’s technically one of the three family members I have left, if you add in Hayden and Brick. So, yeah, it’d be nice if she were, I don’t know, less hateful. But…” I limped out another helpless shrug. “I mostly just want to escape her these days.”

  “You really have no other family left?” Ezra asked softly, his eyebrows knit with sympathy.

  I shrugged again, playing it off as no big deal. “Both my parents were only children and any grandparents I had were gone by the time I came along.”

  Ezra reached out. I looked up at him, holding my breath. His palm hovered inches from my cheek. Then he blinked and shifted his hand to my hair, grasping a flyaway piece that had escaped from my ponytail.

  Tucking it behind my ear, he shook his head and huffed out an amused sound. “I swear, this is like a rebel lock of hair. It refuses to be contained by any ponytail holder, doesn’t it?”

  I merely blinked at him, soaking in his troubled expression. He wasn’t sure how to treat me now. He’d wanted to touch me and comfort me, but he held himself back. He must not be sure if he could completely trust me yet. But he was still here, following me to my apartment, which must also mean he at least wanted to trust me.

  His caution made me hurt for him as much as all this hurt me. It was a sucky situation for both of us.

  “Dammit,” he rasped, hovering his face over mine. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  My lips parted as I met his gaze. “Like what?”

  He eased closer, but the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Hissing out a breath, he stepped back, putting space between us, then he took my hand and led me into the hall. “Where to?”

  “This way.” I pointed and steered him in the right direction. When we reached my door, he stopped behind me, hovering as he glanced suspiciously left then right as he remained close like some kind of bodyguard while he waited for me to release all the bolts and locks.

  Once I had everything open, he followed me inside, shutting the door behind us. I shed my coat and purse, hanging them on their hooks. He kept his wool overcoat on, too busy wandering the front room as he headed straight toward my big front box window and stared at it in awe. He touched the window frame reverently as if he knew how special this spot was to me. Then he picked up my e-reader I’d left on the cushions, only to gently drop it back down and spin toward the shelves along the wall. Lifting knickknacks and examining them one by one, I swear he learned me one object at a time. When he picked up a pink, ceramic baby shoe, he glanced my way, eyebrows raised in silent query.

  “It was a flower vase,” I answered. “My dad gave it to my mom in the hospital when she had me.” I shrugged. “The flowers are gone, of course, but I was able to hide it after Lana came to live with us, so it’s the last thing left of my mom’s I have left.”

  When his eyes narrowed with confusion, I shrugged. “When she married my dad, Lana disposed of everything that had been my mother’s.”

  Nodding, he set the pink shoe down. “When my mom died in the house fire, so many of her things burned with her.” He shook his head, looking momentarily lost. “Losing sentimental mementoes attached to a loved one sucks almost as much as losing the loved one themselves, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded mutely, touched that he understood.

  Turning back to the shelf, Ezra picked up a set of small tap dance shoes.

  My face grew hot. “I was awful,” I rushed to say. “But yes, I tap-danced for a few years when I was little.”

  “I bet you were adorable.” He ran his thumb over the glossy finish before studying a pair of gaudy high heels with beads on them that mirrored a peacock’s tail. They’d been a present from Brick.

  “Yes, I like shoes,” I admitted, self-consciously.

  Ezra stopped snooping through my things and turned to face me completely. His chest lifted as he inhaled. Then he blew out the breath.

  “So, the last time we talked…” he started, only to trail off without continuing.

  When he didn’t say anything else, merely stared at me pensively, I helpfully supplied, “In Brick’s office. When you told me about Christopher being a spy.”

  He nodded, his blue eyes darker than usual. “Right.” Glancing away, he added, “I owe you an apology for that. For the things I said. The way I treated you. I was… I was jealous, and my head was still spinning after everything else I’d learned about you. I wasn’t sure what to believe. What to think about any of it. But I… I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did, regardless.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Your reactions were completely understandable.”

  He scowled, obviously disagreeing. “I was rude. I hurt your feelings.”

  “And I hurt you first,” I argued. “So I deserved it.”

  “The hell if you did.” He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair before taking five steps away and then abruptly whirling back. “You told me the truth. How does that deserve the rude, bitter things I spit back? I pretty much equated you with Lana.”

  I sucked in a pained breath, remembering. “Yeah, but what else were you supposed to assume? I’m a stranger to you, and I’m associated with her, plus the situation was way too coincidental to believe. If I were you, I would’ve doubted my claims too.”

  He didn’t look happy as his eyebrows knit with indecision. “Except I feel guilty for doubting you, because something in me keeps telling me you’re being straight with me about this. I can feel it. Right here.” He fisted his hand and jabbed his knuckles against his gut. “This swears you’re genuine.” With a bitter laugh, he shook his head. “Maybe that makes me a stupid sucker. But I don’t care. I believe you.”

  A smile bloomed across my cheeks. “You do?” When he nodded most miserably, I stepped toward him. “Thank you.”

  He swallowed noisily, his gaze wandering around my features. “It has nothing to do with the fact I’m dying to kiss you again, either.”

  I laughed. “I just have one of those honest faces, huh?”

  “One of those beautiful faces,�
� he murmured, lifting his hand to tuck my wayward piece of hair behind my ear.

  My stomach shifted with anticipation. I wanted his mouth back on mine, where it belonged. When his lips quirked, letting me know he was well aware of what I wanted and was probably purposely holding off just to torture me, I frowned.

  An annoying speck of reality intruded.

  “You know, us hooking up now is a totally bad idea, right?” I blurted. “It is. A very bad idea. I mean, what about Lana? Even Brick thought we should stay away from each other because of her.”

  He shrugged, the intent in his gaze making my stomach heat with want. “What can she really do to us?”

  “Lie,” I immediately answered. “Cheat. Feed us insecurities about each other until it tears us apart. Heck, she managed to turn my own father against me a few times. I swear, that’s why he didn’t leave any of the company to me in his will. She manipulates and acts the victim until, wham, she has you caught in her web, a puppet to her will.”

  “But we’re onto her tricks,” he insisted, shaking his head. “We know not to fall for—”

  “Easier said than done,” I argued. “You are seriously underestimating her talent with deception. And… And what about the fact that I want to buy you out someday?”

  “Someday,” he reiterated. “Not tomorrow. That’s something we can deal with as it happens.” He acted as if the suggestion weren’t a possibility, that it was just some hypothetical pipe dream I could never reach. I frowned, more determined to prove I could regain my company than ever, even as he took both my hands in his and sent me a warm, compassionate look that made my belly quiver with desire.

  “One thing is for damn certain,” he murmured. “Nobody, not even Lana Judge, is going to keep me from the only woman who’s ever—”

  When he broke off abruptly, most likely realizing he was revealing more than he wanted, my lips parted with wonder.

  “The only woman who’s ever what?”

  He let out a breath, studying my face. “I think you have an idea what you do to me.”

  I nodded, only to confess, “You do the same thing to me.”

  “Then we’re sure as hell not letting a couple little obstacles get in our way; I don’t care how devious your stepmother is.”

  “Still.” I winced. “I’d prefer if she didn’t know.”

  “Fine,” he said. “We won’t have an open, honest relationship, then. We’ll have a secret, tawdry one.” Winking, he loomed closer. “That sounds more fun, anyway.”

  And…panties melted.

  “So.” I took a breath when I looked up at him because he stepped even closer, only a breath away. “We’re…We’re really going to…?” I turned too breathless to finish the question.

  He grinned wolfishly. “Oh yeah,” he answered. “We’re definitely going to.”

  When his lips pressed against mine, a buzz of desire ricocheted through me with startling awareness. Why were his kisses so freaking potent? I swear, his tongue was laced with an aphrodisiac because I latched on to it and immediately moved closer, needing more.

  He fisted my hair in both his hands and backed me toward the sofa. When the backs of my knees hit the cushions, I began to lower myself, and he came with me most of the way until suddenly, he broke the kiss to pull back and study me. The moment my spine hit the couch with my hair splaying around my face, he grinned and set a knee between mine while burying one of his hands in my hair.

  He began to lower himself on top of me before stopping a few inches from contact. His gaze fell to my mouth. “What’s your favorite movie?”

  The question came out of nowhere, but I was still able to give the confused, breathless answer, “The Princess Bride. Why?”

  With a grin, he shook his head and murmured, “No reason. Favorite color?”

  “Blue. Light blue.” Was he going to play twenty questions or get back to kissing me?

  As if reading my mind, he grinned and pecked the tip of my nose with his lips. “What’d you want to be when you were little?”

  When his mouth moved to my cheek and then began to trail up my jaw toward my ear, I shivered. “Uh… A horse rider. Just someone who rode horses all day, you know. Until my dad bought me an actual pony, and I fell off it. Then I decided horses weren’t my thing, after all. But I still have my first pair of riding boots because, you know… Shoes.”

  “Of course.” His chuckle vibrated through my throat as he kissed his way around to the back of my ear.

  “But why shoes?” he wondered.

  I clutched the back of his head as my toes curled because his tongue… On my earlobe… I swear, it shot bolts of pure energy out the ends of my feet.

  “I…” Damn, what were we talking about? “I…I like knowing where I’ve been, where I want to go. I actually wanted to, oh God. That feels good.”

  He repeated the motion, making me moan with pleasure, only to quietly press, “You actually wanted to what?”

  What? Were we still talking?

  I blinked up into his face when he pulled away to face me, waiting for my answer. Lord, how could I think about words and answers right now?

  “You wanted to what?” he asked again.

  Blushing hotly, I shook my head, but then confessed, “I wanted to keep your shoes. The high heels from the Halloween party. To remember our night by.”

  “Then they’re yours,” he assured me, right before his mouth returned to mine.

  Wanting to feel more of him, I smoothed my hands inside the front flaps of his coat and over the planes of his chest. Without breaking his lips from me, he shrugged the coat off and over his shoulders before throwing it off to the side. My fingers latched around his tie, smoothing its cloth through my fingers.

  “You look really hot in a tie,” I said, loosening it from his neck. “Intimidating but hot.” He ducked his head, letting me pull it off him before I chucked that aside as well.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Intimidating?”

  “Untouchable,” I explained, all the while running my palms over his chest and around under his arms to his back where I touched and petted to my heart’s content, gripping flesh and muscle through cotton. “Powerful.” Leaning in toward his ear, I whispered, “Knee-trembling.”

  “No way. My tie made these knees tremble?” Breathing out a tantalized groan when I kissed his throat, he ran his hands down my thighs until he reached my knees. Then he sat up so he could twist his torso until he was relaxing against the backrest of the sofa with one of my legs draped over his lap and the other tucked behind him. He lifted my bent leg, exposing the skin through ripped cloth so he could lean in and press his lips directly to my skin. Then he stroked his fingers over my other knee as if apologizing for ever making it quake.

  I went a little dizzy as his fingers slid down my calf and over my ankle where he began to loosen my shoes and pull them off.

  I sat up, growing shy. “You’re not going to look at my feet, are you?”

  He laughed. “Why? What’s wrong with your feet?” After removing both shoes, he tugged at my socks—one blue and green polka dots while the other sock was pink and purple striped.

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled self-consciously. “They’re—”

  “Dainty,” he finished, examining my bare toes thoroughly before running a finger along the underside and making me shudder. “Soft. Perfect.” His gaze sought mine and seemed to say, Just like you.

  I leaned in to kiss him, and his mouth met mine eagerly. As my fingers cupped his face, he smoothed his fingers back up my leg, over my knee and along my thigh until he reached the top clasp and zipper of my jeans, which he began to unfasten.

  I tightened, suddenly apprehensive, not sure if I was ready to progress quite this fast or quite this far tonight.

  Ezra paused, tuned in to my every muscle movement. “Have we reached our stopping point for the evening?” he asked, his gaze seeking.

  I bit my lip. “I certainly don’t want to stop,” I hedged.

  “But,�
�� he finished, reading the word in my gaze, “we need to keep our pants on?”

  I nodded, loving the way he understood and respected me. “For tonight, anyway.”

  His head bobbed up and down. “Cool.” Then he leaned in to kiss me some more. “As long as we don’t have to stop the kissing yet.”

  “Never.”

  And we didn’t. Though our mouths remained fused, no more articles of clothing were removed. By the time I yawned hours later, I felt thoroughly ravished. Catching the yawn, Ezra decided to head home… To let me rest up for the next night, he said.

  The apartment felt bigger, lonelier, and colder with him gone, but I think my smile was stuck in place, anyway, never to be removed, as I readied myself for bed and brushed my teeth.

  Blushing, I met my own reflection in the mirror above my bathroom sink and caught sight of beard burn on my neck. Another grin exploded across my face. Ezra had definitely left his mark.

  How long had it been since a man had left physical proof of his existence on me? No clue, but it felt like way too long. And I felt way too good.

  Life was changing, I realized. And I liked where it was heading. I couldn’t imagine how anything could go wrong from here.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I was still glowing when I sailed into JFI the next morning. After starting the coffee maker, I sat down at my desk to get a little email correspondence done. Then I researched different kinds of leather. By the time I heard Brick’s voice in the hallway, only an hour and a half had passed, yet I’d gotten an entire day’s worth of work in already.

  Which was probably a good thing. Brick was as chatty in the office as he was everywhere else. It slowed my workflow considerably when he was around, so it was just as well that I got as much completed before he arrived.

  He laughed, talking to some other man, as he entered the room, only to slow to a stop and inhale deeply. “Damn, you even brew the best-smelling coffee, kid.”

  I grinned, soaking in the compliment like a flower greedily inhaling sunlight, even as I wanted to deflect and say the coffee beans had done all the work aromatizing the air, not me.