Between 2 Bosses

by Samantha Twinn

  Between 2 Bosses

  A Menage Romance

  Samantha Twinn

  Copyright © 2018 by Samantha Twinn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Hale: Make Her Happy

  2. Kira: Male Models

  3. Pierce: Not Part of Our Plan

  4. Kira: Take the Bulls by Their Horns

  5. Hale: Kinky Desires

  6. Kira: Am I Teasing You?

  7. Hale: The Three of Us, Together

  8. Pierce: A Big Risk

  9. Kira: Push My Buttons — All of Them

  10. Hale: Whatever Kira Wants

  11. Kira: After Hours

  12. Pierce: Venturing into New Territory

  13. Hale: Instant Magic

  14. Kira: Lust, Pure and Simple

  15. Pierce: It’s Complicated

  16. Kira: Getting Tangled Up

  17. Hale: My Own Issues

  18. Kira: Silent Prayers

  19. Pierce: I Want Things to Be Okay

  20. Hale: Maybe You Shouldn’t Be Alone Tonight

  21. Kira: To Second Chances

  22. Pierce: Sweet Perfection

  23. Hale: Something Emotional

  24. Kira: Nestled Between Two Gorgeous Men

  25. Hale: Not Without You

  26. Pierce: A Current Running Between Us

  27. Kira: Endless, Amazing, Everything

  28. Kira: Barely Holding Myself Together

  29. Kira: The Fallout

  30. Kira: Now or Never

  31. Pierce: A Little Late to Be Asking

  32. Three Years Later

  Thank You!

  About the Author

  Also by Samantha Twinn

  1

  Hale: Make Her Happy

  “Time to pull your nose out of the numbers, nerd.”

  As usual, Pierce is completely focused on his laptop screen. He ignores my presence in his doorway for a full five seconds before looking up.

  “Conference room. Now. Walker’s calling in,” I tell him.

  Pierce taps a few more keys, then pushes back from his desk with a sigh. “Didn’t think we’d be hearing from him for at least another week.”

  “Me either.” I stay one step ahead of him down the long hallway and reach the room first. Lucy’s already in there, setting up the monitor.

  “Are you ready?” The petite blonde looks to each of us for confirmation before clicking the remote, then takes a seat with her notepad at the far end of the table.

  The bloated, wrinkled face of Winston Wallace Walker III appears on the screen, larger than life, his skin two shades darker than it was at last month’s conference call. Glad the old bastard could be bothered to stumble in from the golf course and check on his largest company.

  “Hale? Pierce? Are you there? Can you see me?” He’s yelling like he needs to bridge the distance between us and his resort in the Bahamas, or wherever the hell he is this week.

  It’s amazing that someone with his lack of know-how founded Walker Industries. Of course, as CFO and COO respectively, Pierce and I essentially run the company, despite Mr. Walker’s title of Board Chairman and CEO.

  “Yes, sir. And we can hear you just fine, too,” Pierce says with more diplomacy than I would manage.

  “Great. Fine,” Walker says. “How are things going there?”

  “Things are good, sir,” Pierce says. “Orders are up from last week. Projections are on track for the fall.”

  “Good, good. Fine.” Our clueless leader waves a hand in front of his face as if brushing away a pesky fly. “How’s the Washburn project coming?”

  “Also on track,” I say. “It should wrap up on schedule. They're happy.”

  “Very good,” he mutters, looking even more distracted than usual. He must have a tee time approaching.

  Pierce is reviewing notes on the tablet he brought in with him. When he raises his head I shoot him a look. We can usually keep these calls under five minutes so long as Pierce doesn’t bring up any new business.

  To my relief, he seems to catch my signal and remains quiet. Just when I think we're home free, Walker clears his throats and leans in, his flabby face filling the screen.

  “One more thing,” he says. “And this is important.”

  I glance over at Pierce, who’s poised to take more notes. I sigh and lean back in my chair.

  "My baby girl will be coming in tomorrow." Walker stares at us expectantly with an odd mixture of sternness and pride in his expression.

  “Your...baby girl?” I ask, picturing a wailing infant being pushed into the conference room in a stroller.

  “Yes. Kira,” Walker says, as if that explains everything.

  I glance at Pierce again. His face looks as confused as I feel. Is it take your kid to work day and our perpetually vacationing boss is sending his daughter in by herself? Will we be dealing with a little Walker brat all day?

  “Kira?” I echo.

  “Yes. She's starting work tomorrow.”

  Pierce and I both go still as Lucy busily scribbles on her notepad.

  “Your daughter Kira is starting work tomorrow? Here?” Please tell me I misunderstood.

  “That's right. And I want you both to take good care of her. Keep her happy.”

  “What will she be doing?” Pierce asks, his voice even more stiff than usual.

  “Her position is undefined at the moment. I want her to get a feel for how everything works before we make decisions.”

  With superhuman restraint, I manage to bite back the obscenities and objections that fight for release. We’re used to dealing with the old man’s whims, but this is ridiculous.

  “Like I said, make her happy,” Walk repeats. “I’ll be checking in.” He looks at each of us with his I’m the boss and you're not sneer before adding, “Talk to you next week." And then he disappears.

  "What the—?" I burst out of my chair and glare at Pierce, knowing I'll find his typical impassive expression. He doesn't disappoint. He's calmly gathering his things while I'm fighting to keep my blood from boiling over.

  Lucy ignores my outburst and stands calmly, straightening her skirt. “I can put Ms. Walker in the vacant office at the end of the hall, if that’s okay with both of you?”

  I glare at her too, but keep my voice calm. “Did you know about this, Lucy?”

  “No. This is the first I'm hearing of it. I do know that Ms. Walker is a recent graduate with a degree in business.”

  Great. Just great. "Put her wherever you want," I tell her. “Actually, I have a great idea about where she can go—”

  “Hale,” Pierce interrupts.

  “Do either of you need anything?” Lucy asks, sounding sympathetic. She deals with plenty of Walker’s bullshit, too.

  “No, you can go. Thanks,” I tell her, softening my tone. No use taking out my anger on innocent bystanders.

  Pierce rises and starts to follow Lucy to the door but I clamp a hand on his arm. “Do you believe this shit?” I say, my voice a hiss.

  “What?” He glances down to where I’ve grabbed his shirt and I release it.

  “What?!” He really is unbelievable sometimes. "Did you hear him? Keep her happy, he said. The old man’s spoiled brat is coming to work here. We'll be showing her the ropes, and in a few months she'll probably be our boss.”

  Pierce looks thoughtful and takes his usual long time to respond. “You're jumping to a pretty big conclusion,” he finally says.

 
My left brow arches high as I stare back at him. “Tell me you think I'm wrong.”

  He considers a moment longer before saying, “No, you're probably right.”

  I storm over to the window and look out, not seeing anything but red. “I don't know about you, but I'm not going to roll over and take this. I'm not letting some pampered little rich girl saunter in here and take what I've worked so hard for.”

  I turn to see Pierce put his things back down on the conference table. When he speaks, his voice is low and determined. “So … we make a plan.”

  2

  Kira: Male Models

  Three months. Just three months. It sounds like forever, and I’m sure the time will drag, but there’s no getting around it.

  All I need to do is spend three boring months interning at Daddy Dearest’s company, and then he’ll agree to give me the loan I need to start my business.

  He probably thinks I’ll forget about my plans and that I’ll somehow want to stay at Walker Industries forever, manufacturing widgets or whatever it is they do here. Darling Daddy wants me to follow in his footsteps, even though his footsteps have recently led him through three ugly divorces and neverending golf vacations where he hides from his problems.

  I shudder a little when I step off the elevator. Dark paneling and ugly carpeting surround me as I face the pretentious gold lettering of the company logo on the wall behind reception. A beautiful blonde sits at the desk — here for window dressing, no doubt — and I instantly imagine a conference room full of old men within, drinking whiskey and blowing out clouds of cigar smoke.

  I stop, take a deep breath, and refocus. Just three months. It’s my new mantra.

  My company will look nothing like this old boys’ club throwback, but maybe I can learn a little while I put in my time here. I step up to the desk and do my best to sound polite. “Hi. I’m Kira Walker. Reporting for my first day.”

  The receptionist offers a wan smile and directs me to a seat before making a call to let someone know I’m here. In less than a minute, a thirty-something woman is walking toward me, hand extended.

  “Kira? Nice to meet you. I’m Lucy, the office manager.”

  Lucy is as blonde and beautiful as the receptionist, and I try to push aside my assumptions that my father or some other old man just like him hired her based on her looks. Who am I to judge? I know I’m only here because I’m the boss’s daughter.

  “Hi, Lucy. Nice to meet you.”

  “We’ve been expecting you. Follow me. I’ll show you around.”

  She leads me through double doors to a bigger space with more dark paneling and the same dreadful carpeting. To our right, there is a maze of gray cubicles under glaring fluorescent lighting. We pass by an open conference room — momentarily absent of old men smoking — several offices and a break room, before Lucy unlocks the door to an office and gestures for me to enter.

  The room is quite large, with a desk, a few chairs, a small couch, a bookshelf, and tasteful potted plants. The same dark paneling is present, but it’s relieved by floor-to-ceiling windows on one side. The desk is empty; the office appears uninhabited.

  “You can put your bag down here, and we’ll continue our tour.”

  “Is this going to be my office?”

  “Yes,” Lucy says. “Is it okay? If it’s not large enough, I can arrange a different one for you.”

  Ah, yes. I remember now, what it’s like to be my father’s daughter. I’ve been living on my own for the past seven years and haven’t been experiencing the preferential treatment that comes with being related to Winston Wallace Walker III.

  I wonder if Daddy specified that I be given a large office, or if his office manager made the decision herself. It’s much more than I need for my limited time here, but it’s better than being in cubicle hell, so I’m not going to object.

  “This will be fine. Thanks.”

  “Great. I think Mr. Harris and Mr. Daniels are available. I’ll introduce you.” Lucy waits for me to set my things down before she leads me back into the hall.

  Two doors down, we pass an empty office marked with Mr. Harris’s name. Lucy turns to me as we continue on. “You may already be familiar with their names. Mr. Harris and Mr. Daniels oversee things when your father’s away.”

  Which is probably all the time, I think. In any case, I’ve never heard of them, and I’m wondering if they’ll be the type of old men to kiss my butt because I’m a Walker, or leer at my chest because I’m a woman. Or maybe both.

  I sigh inwardly. Three long months.

  The door marked “Pierce Daniels” is closed. When Lucy knocks twice, a deep, muffled voice invites her to enter. She opens the door wide and steps aside so I can pass through.

  One man sits behind the desk; another is perched casually on its edge. When they look up at me, I stop in my tracks.

  These are not the old men from my dad’s crowd that I was expecting to find. These are male models who must have wandered in from a nearby photo shoot.

  The man sitting behind the desk is fair-haired, clean-shaven, and intense. His eyes are ice blue and though his face is all hard angles, his lips look soft and — I can’t help but notice — extremely kissable. No, make that biteable. When I realize I’m biting my own lip, I quickly release it and pull my eyes away to focus on the other man, whom Lucy is gesturing to.

  “Ms. Walker, this is Hale Harris, our Chief Operating Officer. Mr. Harris, Ms. Walker.” The man who’d been perched on the desk abruptly stands, and for just a fraction of a second, has the look of a deer in headlights.

  He instantly composes himself and turns a sly smile on me that I feel deep in my belly. Deep, deep in my belly, like several inches south of my belly. Whoa. Hale Harris has a dark, brooding look and a magnetism that is palpable.

  He extends his hand to mine, and the heat from his skin feels somehow intimate and dangerous. I draw my hand away and fold it against me as though it’s been burned.

  “Ms. Walker. Nice to meet you. Please call me Hale.” His voice is equally dark and dangerous sounding, like someone a mother would’ve warned me about.

  “Thank you. And please call me Kira.” I lower my eyes in an attempt to gather my hormones back up off the floor, but instead my gaze is drawn to the lean lines of Hale’s impeccable white dress shirt tucked into his dark pants. I fist my hands to resist the impulse to reach out and pull his shirttail free from his belt.

  “And this is Pierce Daniels, Chief Financial Officer. Mr. Daniels, Ms. Walker.” Lucy gestures to the man behind the desk, who’s now also standing. There’s no startled deer look there — Pierce’s gaze is cool and steady and his oh-so-enticing mouth holds a firm line.

  “Ms. Walker,” he says, offering his hand. His grip is firm and his skin is cool, but no less electric. While Hale’s collar is open at the neck, Pierce is buttoned up, with a conservatively-patterned tie that enhances the blue of his irises.

  “Kira,” I say. The Ice Man nods once, and I picture myself melting his reserve with my hot mouth on his cool skin.

  Three months. Three months just got infinitely more interesting.

  3

  Pierce: Not Part of Our Plan

  When Walker’s daughter enters my office, I watch our plan fly right out the window. Our plot to undermine her isn’t going to work because Hale wants to fuck her. That’s as plain as one plus one equalling two.

  And who wouldn’t want to fuck her? If she was anyone but Walker’s daughter, I might be drawn in by her big, beautiful eyes, her silky dark hair, and her perfect pouty lips.

  How did someone who looks like Mr. Walker spawn a creature as gorgeous as this?

  She’s undeniably stunning, but the fact that she’s off limits is equally undeniable. If only Hale could think with something other than his cock once in a while.

  From how he talks, he has a constant parade of woman flowing in and out of his bedroom. Never the same one twice, from the sounds of it. And why should I care if he makes the terrible decision to b
ed the CEO’s daughter?

  “Do the two of you have time for a meeting later today?” Lucy asks Pierce and me. “To discuss which projects you’d like Kira to work on?” I start to check my schedule when Lucy’s phone pulses. “Excuse me a moment,” she says as she moves a few steps away to take the call.

  “I can be available right now,” Hale says. I glance up to find him focused on Kira’s legs. He says it like a come-on, in a ridiculous tone of voice. I halfway expect a porno soundtrack to play in the background.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen, Kira. Someone needs me out front,” Lucy says, heading toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Hale nods in her direction but his focus remains on Kira’s body. He pulls out a chair. “Would you like to have a seat, Kira? Pierce, you’re not busy, are you?” He throws a glance in my direction, but not long enough to notice the glare I’m giving him.

  Kira sits and the tight skirt she’s wearing rides up, baring several inches of creamy skin on her thighs. I swallow. I’m going to have to ask Lucy to talk with Ms. Walker about the office dress code. Someone might find her clothing distracting.

  Hale slides another chair close to Kira’s and sits, leaning back but angling all parts of his body in her direction. “I’ll confess we don’t know much about you, Kira,” he says. “We only learned yesterday that you’d be coming to work here.”

  She gives a wry smile, one side of her glossy pink lips turning upward. “That sounds like my father. Need to know basis, and all that.”