The Boss Upstairs (Orchard Heights Book 3 (standalone))

by Roya Carmen

  “He had rope. He was trying to tie me up.”

  She reaches for her phone, presses 9-1-1, and hands it to me.

  My voice is shaky, uneven, as I attempt to communicate with the officer. Thankfully, her voice is very soothing and she manages to calm me, and I finally tell her what’s going on. Officers and paramedics are sent immediately. I insist that I’m fine, that I do not need a paramedic, but she says it’s protocol.

  I try to soothe Ethan who’s as upset as I am. He’s confused and scared. I realize that he probably did not see Samuel at all. He most likely just heard the screaming and the commotion.

  I carry him to Abby’s sofa and wrap my arms around him. “Everything is okay,” I tell him. “Mommy just had a really bad dream. Everything’s okay now.”

  Abigail gives us chocolate milk in an attempt to calm us down. Shortly after, officers show up to take my statement. I’m told that the perpetrator has fled. “Well, he won’t be able to go too far,” I tell them. “I know where he lives.”

  A paramedic checks me out. He attends to my bruised eye and tapes up a cut on my forehead. No stitches needed thankfully.

  It’s hours later when everyone finally leaves. Ethan is sound asleep in Abigail’s guest room.

  “Hey, where’s Abe?” I ask, just noticing his absence.

  She smiles. “Work trip.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Can we sleep over?”

  She reaches out and hugs me tight. “Of course you can. I insist.”

  I’m quite the sight when I show up at work the next day. Thankfully, Ethan is at daycare. I don’t know if I can leave him in that apartment. I’m still so scared.

  “What in the heavens happened to you?” Rosetta asks as soon as I enter our office.

  “You won’t believe it.”

  She takes my hand and sits me down on my desk chair, like a teacher might do with a small child. “Tell me everything.”

  I tell her all about Samuel and the ensuing nightmare. She listens intently with wide eyes and parted lips.

  “We need to tell Boss Man about this.”

  “I know. I don’t want to.”

  She takes my hand and I follow her to Weston’s office. He’s hunched over a bunch of papers, busy working. He raises his gaze, and his face falls as soon as he sees me. He bounces from his chair and lunges in my direction. “Grasshopper… what happened to you?”

  We all settle in the sitting area, Weston and I on the loveseat, and Rosetta in the armchair. I repeat the whole story for what seems like the thousandth time.

  All the while, Weston cannot believe his ears. He’s appalled, horrified, and worried as hell. He takes me in his arms. “I’ll protect you. I promise.”

  I glance over at Rosetta who studies us with a raised brow. Weston won’t let go. He’s not the most affectionate man, more of a hand shaker than a hugger. But right now, I’m held captive in his arms. And despite Rosetta’s curiosity, I kind of like it. I feel protected in his arms. I feel loved. Precious even.

  I’m jittery all day, not quite able to focus on my work. The authorities contact me. Apparently, Samuel’s been apprehended, and I’ll need to go to the station.

  I’m relieved to know he’s not on the streets, free to break into my place again. This has really shaken me, more than I could have possibly imagined.

  Weston takes me to the station and we’re there for hours, giving another statement. He’s extremely patient and helpful, and I’m very thankful.

  Samuel is charged with breaking and entering and assault. And a restraining order has been filed. Yet, I still feel unsettled.

  When I finally get home, I find Abigail stretched across my sofa. Ethan is already sleeping soundly.

  “How did it go?” I ask.

  “Oh, great. Ethan’s a little angel. How did it go at the station?”

  “It was long and tiring, but Samuel will get what he deserves.”

  She rises from the sofa. “He should.” She gives me a nice hug. “You’ll get through this. You’re safe now.”

  “Thank you, Abby. And thanks for looking after Ethan.”

  “My pleasure. Always.”

  I toss and turn all night, and I sleep through my alarm again. It only happens when I don’t get enough sleep. I scramble to get Ethan and I ready. Today is a daycare day. I prefer the days when he stays home with his grandma because I don’t have to do much. But it’s important for him to be socialized, and to learn. His daycare is highly focused on educational activities. Patricia is a wonderful grandmother, but she can only offer so much. Plus I wouldn’t dare impose on her too much. She sits three times a week, and I think that’s plenty for a woman her age.

  As we exit the elevator, I notice a tall dark man in uniform standing by the entrance. He must be about six foot six. He smiles at the both of us, and we smile back. He seems friendly enough, but he’s the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to mess with. It takes me a few seconds to realize that he’s a security guard.

  The building has never had a security guard, just the typical security lock system, the kind of system people bypass all the time. I wonder how many people have sneaked in behind residents walking in.

  I apologize to Rosetta as soon as I get in. “I tossed and turned all night,” I explain. “And slept through my alarm again.”

  “No worries, Honey,” she says. “After what happened to you, poor baby, I’m surprised you’re even here.”

  “It’s the best place to be,” I explain. “I feel safer here.”

  She smiles. “Yeah, no one is getting past me.”

  I laugh, and fire up my laptop. I check my email first like I always do.

  There’s a message from the Orchard Heights Home Association. It states that all loft locking systems will be updated in the next few weeks.

  I raise a brow, intrigued. We’ve always had plain old fashioned locks. And apparently, we will be upgraded to a digital card system, like they have in most modern hotels. These are apparently more secure.

  I suppose it will be easier. No more fiddling with a key. And I like the idea of being more protected. Although, I will miss the vintage door knobs.

  This was Weston’s doing. He wants to keep me safe. And all his other tenants too.

  I attempt to delve into my work, but I can’t focus. I grab a cup of coffee. I rearrange my desk. I check my phone. I check my email again.

  My heart skips a beat when I see a message from Mr. Boss Man.

  My sweet little grasshopper,

  I had a dream about you last night. You were laying naked in my arms, and I held you. I protected you.

  Now I can’t stop thinking about you naked in my arms. I can’t focus. I’m restless and frustrated. All I can think about is you.

  I’d like you to go to my room, get completely undressed, wrap yourself in my fur throw, and lay on my bed and wait for me.

  Yours,

  Mr. Boss Man

  Oh my… yes, please!

  Dear Mr. Boss Man,

  I’m leaving right this minute, and will do exactly as you ask. I’ll be waiting for you impatiently on your bed. ;)

  Yours,

  Grasshopper

  I attempt to be inconspicuous as I leave the office. Rosetta is engrossed in her work and doesn’t seem to notice.

  My heart beats with excitement as I scurry down the office. I pause and remove my pumps. I don’t want Rosetta to hear the click-clack of my heels.

  My breath hitches when I finally reach his bedroom, all soothing shades, expensive furnishings and perfect order. I quickly peel off my blouse, and unzip my skirt. I’m giddy as I unhook my bra, and pull down my panties. Finally, I’m as naked as the day I was born.

  I grab the fur throw and wrap it around my naked body, and it feels like a dream. I feel guilty for a second, a little unsettled by the fact that I’m wrapped in animal fur. But this throw is not mine. I did not buy it. I didn’t support the fur trade. I’m merely enjoying the feel of it.

  I lay down on Weston’s bed, a
nd stare up at the pretty chandelier over top. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensations I’m experiencing. I feel alive. And relaxed. I feel so much safer here, in Weston’s bedroom than I did last night in my own room.

  I drift off.

  31

  I’m woken shortly after by the feel of Weston’s fingers stroking my forehead. “Oh… sorry. I fell asleep.”

  He smiles.

  “I had a horrible sleep last night,” I explain. “And your bed is super comfy.”

  “I like seeing you like this, in my bed.”

  I smile.

  He trails a finger along my collarbone. “I’d really like to peel off that throw, and see all of you.”

  “But I’m so cozy, and the room is chilly.”

  He laughs.

  “You know what I’d like?” I ask.

  He raises a brow. “What would you like, Grasshopper? I’m listening.”

  “I’d love you to take all your clothes off. I want to see you.”

  A blush traces his features. His grin is playful. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  He rises from the bed and walks away. I wonder if I’ve offended him. He likes to order others around, but he doesn’t like being told what to do. Typical alpha dominant.

  He turns around with a huge grin on his face. “Well, what the lady wants, the lady gets.”

  “Hell, yes!”

  He inches a little closer, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt. He undoes them leisurely, quietly. Not a single sound can be heard, save for my heightened breathing. Once all the buttons are undone, he peels off his shirt, so slowly. He’s down to his pants and white tank top.

  “Pull that thing off,” I beg.

  He smiles and obliges, and damn, the man is gorgeous. The six-pack I was hoping for is there, and so is the sexy dark line under his naval, leading to the band of his pants.

  He closes the distance between us, and undoes his fly. He quickly pulls off his pants. He’s not so patient anymore, and neither am I. He’s down to his silky black boxers, clearly hard already.

  I love it. I can’t peel my eyes away as he frees his glorious erection. Damn, I should have better prepared myself for this. Now all I want is him inside me.

  Finally, he’s completely naked. “Your turn,” he says softly. “Take off that throw.”

  I hesitate for just a second before peeling off the soft throw. The chill of the room hits me right away, but my insides are burning up. I want him to see me completely naked. I hope he likes what he sees. I’m not fully waxed, and I hope he doesn’t mind the sight of my pussy.

  “Beautiful,” he says. “Let me touch you.”

  He sits on the edge of the bed, and strokes me softly. Everywhere. My breasts, my belly, around my belly button and down my thighs. He touches me everywhere, but not where I really want to be touched. He’s teasing again. He’s driving me wild.

  He traces his finger softly along my bruise, along the bandaged scar on my forehead.

  “I hate that he’s done this to you.”

  “I think he was much worse off than me,” I point out. “I really went medieval on him with that lamp.”

  He laughs. “I always knew you were a feisty one. I like that about you.”

  I sit up and reach for him, and run my hand around his strong shoulder, along the ridges of his stomach, and down his happy trail. I finally reach his cock, and I stroke it for just a second or two. I can tease too.

  He lays down next to me and takes me in his arms. His erection presses against my belly. We stay in each other’s arms for the longest time, and I feel safe there.

  His mouth finds its way to my cheek. He trails his stubbly jaw against my skin, and I revel in the feel of it. He teases as his mouth dances over my skin. My lips reach for his, but his mouth eludes me. When he finally relents, his lips part over mine and our tongues play. His kiss is perfect, sensual and passionate, but soft. I’m so glad kissing is officially back in the agreement.

  He pulls his mouth from mine and explores me, trailing his mouth along my jaw, my collarbone. I rake my hands through his hair as he licks my nipples, nibbles them, sucks them slowly, driving me insane in the process. I arch my back, wanting more. He cruelly pulls his mouth away, and explores me further down. He trails hot circles around my navel, and finally, his mouth lands on my sweet spot and I melt into the bed. “Open your legs for me, baby,” he breathes.

  I oblige and spread my legs for him, eagerly anticipating the pleasure he will give me. He slides his tongue down my folds, and I arch my back and press my pussy into his face without apology. He doesn’t tease this time. He gives it his all. He feasts on me and brings me to heaven.

  My heart beats forcefully as I reach my climax, ride the waves of pleasure, and finally come to. He’s staring at me, and I close my legs bashfully, feeling a little uneasy.

  “Don’t be shy,” he teases. “I loved every second of it.”

  I smile. “I did too.”

  “I could tell.”

  I reach for his erection. “Someone’s still worked up.”

  His grin is playful. “Kind of.”

  I slither down, and trail my tongue along his torso, all the way down. He groans loudly and I laugh, just before taking him into my mouth.

  I haven’t pleasured a man like this in years. Not since Donovan of course. It feels good to give someone pleasure like this, and I’m surprised when Weston warns me after only a few seconds. I keep going, more than willing. I want to have all of him, including his pleasure.

  We are stretched across his bed and comfortable in each other’s arms. “I have the best job in the world,” I tell him. “And the best boss.”

  He laughs.

  “It’s good that this is just a contract job,” I go on, “because it’s never a good idea to give your boss a blow job.”

  “Perhaps you’ll get a promotion now,” he quips. “You certainly deserve it. Job well done.”

  “Well done, and done quickly too,” I tease.

  He blushes. “Hey, there was a lot of foreplay. You were driving me wild, naked in my arms and your pussy tasted so damn sweet. And let me remind you that I haven’t been pleasured that way in over three years.”

  I laugh. “I’m just teasing. It was perfect. I loved giving you pleasure like that.”

  He plays with a lock of my hair, and I reach for the silver pendant on his chain, a tree in a circle. “I love this. I never noticed it before.”

  “I keep it tucked under my shirts,” he tells me, “but I never take it off.”

  “It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?” I ask, thinking it’s probably a cherished gift from someone.

  “I bought it for myself,” he tells me. “It’s an olive tree.”

  “Nice,” I say. “You like olive trees?”

  He smiles. “I bought an identical one for Mirella.”

  “Oh…” I imagine it was to commemorate a special moment, perhaps lovemaking under an olive tree.

  “She was pregnant with my child.”

  “Oh…” Now, I’m really confused, and very curious.

  “She lost the baby… she had a miscarriage. It was unexpected because she had passed the first trimester.”

  “I’m so sorry, Weston.”

  “The baby was a boy, and we’d already named him Oliver.”

  “Oh, I see…” I ache for him. He’d already lost a small child, and then… Oliver. Now I understand the darkness I sometimes see in him. Like me, he’s been broken. He’s had to re-glue himself together, too many times.

  I kiss his forehead.

  “She still wears it every day too,” he tells me. “I see it in the pictures she posts, and it warms my heart every time, to know that Oliver meant as much to her as he did to me, to know that our relationship meant that much.”

  “I’m sure it did. She obviously loved you as much as you loved her,” I say. “She had a very tough choice to make.” I couldn’t imagine being in such a situation
. What would I do if I had to choose between Weston and Donovan?

  “She did.”

  I attempt to tame his rebel lock of hair. “Do you think she made the right one?”

  “Yes. Definitely. She seems very happy.”

  “Do you think her husband loves her as much as you did?”

  “Yes… possibly even more. I saw it in him when he beat me to a pulp. It was more than a hot temper, it was intense passion, intense fear. He was afraid to lose her, and he wanted to kill me because he thought I’d stolen her from him.”

  “That kind of love is scary,” I point out. “The man sounds intense.”

  He laughs. “He was… he still is, I suppose.”

  I don’t want to ask him the next question again, but I can’t help myself. I need him to reassure me. “Do you still love her?”

  He traces a finger along the curve of my cheek. “Yes. I always will. A small part of my heart will always belong to her.”

  My heart sinks. Yet again, I wonder what I really am to him. We’re playmates. Employee and boss. I’m probably just a fun distraction.

  “But I have a big heart, Gretchen,” he goes on. “And right now, all I can think about is you. I was still hung up on her until you came along. But you’ve changed everything.”

  I kiss him on the lips. “You always know the perfect thing to say.”

  He smiles, and takes me in his arms again.

  I feel safe. Physically and emotionally. And I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

  32

  Unfortunately, real life beckons, and when I get back to the office, Rosetta is in fine form. “A little adult nap time?” she teases. “A little bam bam in the ham?”

  I roll my eyes. “Knock it off, Rosetta.”

  “Hey, did you notice the security guard downstairs? I certainly wouldn’t kick him out of my bed for eating Oreos.”

  I laugh out loud. “I would. I don’t care how hot he is. I hate cookie crumbs in bed… it’s the most annoying thing in the world.”