His Temporary Assistant: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy (Kensington Square Book 1)

by Taryn Quinn

  He nipped my bottom lip and I tasted myself. I leaned in for more and our tastes mingled until heat and cinnamon dominated as he sucked on my tongue.

  His hips lifted to match every one of my fluid rocking motions. The chair wasn’t really built for this kind of action and groaned in reaction.

  But we didn’t care. There was only now.

  Only the chase of pleasure.

  I wrapped my arm around his neck and threw my head back. His mouth found my breast and drew sharply on the one that was bared and then the other through the cotton and lace. And he never let up on me. Driving into me over and over until there was no way to tell where he started and I stopped.

  He flipped my dress out of the way so his could get his hands on my ass, nudging my panties aside so he could slide his fingers along my cleft from the back.

  There was nowhere to hide. Both of us were still half clothed, and still, he wanted to touch and invade all of me.

  He used one hand on the arm of the chair to give himself more leverage as he thrust into me until my teeth rattled. My name was a groan as he buried his face in my neck and his teeth seared into my shoulder.

  He was close.

  I knew he was holding on for me.

  I rolled my hips and bore down on him and conceded to the battlefield of our first time together.

  Probably only time.

  “Preston.”

  He lifted his head and cupped my face, locking his eyes on mine as I shook around him. My release was a tremor, then a storm as I had no recourse but to hold on to him.

  He waited for me.

  Surged into me even as I clamped down on him and everything tightened, then softened like water. I took everything he offered. Even with the protection between us, I knew all the energy he had inside of him for this moment was mine.

  The sun-bright shimmer of pleasure flowed from him into me and his name tumbled out of my lips again and again.

  He covered my mouth with his and swallowed my cries and the chain reaction of his orgasm triggered another for me, even more incredible than the first.

  I collapsed on him, my cheek falling to his shoulder as my bones went from solid to liquid gold.

  “Holy shit.”

  I laughed as I tried to make my fingers work, but they just fell against the chair like a fish flopping out of water.

  He wound his arms around my waist and settled me against him. “I didn’t intend to do that here.”

  I nipped his shoulder. He was still semi-hard inside me and I wasn’t in a huge hurry to have him leave. “Rule-breaker. Are you freaking out already?” I sighed.

  “It’s not that. We were a foregone conclusion—you know that as much as I do. I just mean I wanted you on a bed the first time. Or at least near a bed.” He trailed little circles along the base of my spine. “I may not have made it to my bedroom with you. Or any bedroom.”

  I snorted. “We almost fucked in your car just last night.”

  “I know. I’m not sure what you do to me.”

  “You’re not blaming the sex hex again.”

  “No. This is all us.” He dragged his thumb down my lip to my chin. “It’s always been all about us. I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to let it go.”

  I stiffened.

  “Don’t.” He cupped my cheeks with both hands. “Don’t do that.”

  “You can talk. Who was cold as ice this morning?”

  He looked away and let out a breath. “I had a difficult conversation with a client that set my day off on the wrong foot. I regret it if I seemed cold.” He gave me that cool-eyed expression he’d perfected. “Although you did secrete my coffee, Miss Moon. Perhaps I should…reprimand you.”

  The rattle of the doorknob and an older version of PMS’s voice came from the other side. “Open this door immediately.”

  “Oh, shit.” I scrambled off him and hissed as he slipped out of me. He still hadn’t fully softened yet even after all we’d done to one another.

  Probably because he was halfway to wanting me again with all his reprimanding talk. I suppressed a shiver.

  He swore then looked down at himself. The condom was mangled from my quick dismount. We both looked around desperately for a way to clean up, but there was nothing but files and white banker boxes in this room.

  I spotted a tissue box and ran over to get it, then threw it at him. I jostled my underwear and underwire bra into place before quickly buttoning my dress. Dammit, I was missing a button.

  “Who is in there? Preston?”

  “Jesus,” he muttered as he tried to tidy up and get his boxers and pants back into position.

  I found his shirt and tossed it at him.

  The door rattled again.

  Preston bunched his fists at his sides before he picked up his tie and shoved it in his pocket. As he looked around helplessly, I crossed to him and grabbed his hand, jerking him forward to the door.

  “Just go,” I mouthed at him, flattening myself against the wall behind the door.

  “I’ll be back,” he mouthed to me.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t think about what would come next. If I started analyzing what happened, I’d be fucked.

  And I already had been spectacularly.

  He gave me a hot, annoyed look. “Just a moment,” he called out.

  I waved him away and he managed to slip out without showing the detonation of the room—and me. I sagged against the wall. Goddess, what a clusterfuck.

  Then I put the room back to rights.

  When I finally girded my loins enough to peek out into the office, I was relieved to see the main waiting room was empty. Preston’s door was open, but he didn’t seem to be in his office.

  I ran for my desk, grabbed my purse, and made a quick delivery. Then I flew toward the elevators like the coward I was.

  As the numbers descended downward over the doors, I smiled. At least PMS was guaranteed to have a good afternoon now.

  Seventeen

  I’d never seen my father fire-breathing mad before.

  Annoyed, often. Bad-tempered, sure. But flames practically shooting out of his eyes with enough force to scald me where I stood opposite his desk? This was a first.

  This day was destined to have many of them apparently, and it was only—

  I glanced at my watch. Past three already. Guess fucking my assistant on the conference table had taken longer than I’d realized. Pity it hadn’t taken even longer. I could’ve spent years lost in her luscious body. And I probably would have—at least for a second round—if not for my father deciding to epically cock-block me.

  “Was this necessary?” I asked in a brutally low voice, searching for calm.

  “I assume you mean interrupting your…work.” His smirk as he sat back in his desk chair set off a pulse at the base of my skull. “You have a bed at home. Use it.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you don’t. Interesting that your sharp-tongued new assistant isn’t at her desk right now, isn’t it?” He crossed his arms, straining the shoulders of his crisp gray jacket. It didn’t have a single wrinkle, unlike mine, I was certain. “Have to say I’m surprised at you, Preston, considering your attitude in other ways. But I’ve found out plenty of things about you today that surprised me. That you’ve taken up with some witchy floozy barely rates.”

  “You are not speak of her like that ever again. Do you understand me?” I made a fist and barely resisted slamming it on his desk. “My mistake was not taking you to task the last time you dared to open your mouth about her.”

  “Taking me to task?” he thundered, his face blanching as he rose to his feet. “Have you forgotten who started this law firm? Who can fire you at any time?” Before I could respond, he smiled thinly and leaned forward, bracing his hands on his desk. “Or is that what you’re hoping I’ll do, so you don’t have to make the decision to walk?”

  I almost didn’t hear the question, because the way he was looming toward me, delibera
tely trying to intimidate me, reminded me how I’d done the same move to Ryan over a damn coffee pod.

  I was my father’s son, in far too many ways to count. So, how did I have the right to question his behavior? I didn’t have an explanation for mine, except ones that cleared my guilty conscience.

  “How do you feel about Courtney?” I asked suddenly.

  If he’d been any more surprised by my change in direction, he would’ve toppled over. As it was, his dark eyes narrowed as the color slowly returned to his cheeks. “What?”

  I repeated the question.

  “What business is that of yours?”

  “I’m your son,” I said tightly. “I might not be particularly proud of that fact right now, but I am. If you have feelings for her, it’s not an excuse, but it’s not as bad as if you’re just using her. Just using Mom.”

  Almost as if it had never existed, his anger drained out of him and he sank into his chair, looking years more exhausted than he had when we entered his office. “Did it ever occur to you they’re using me just as much?”

  I refused to believe it. “No. Mom isn’t using you. She loves you.”

  “We love each other as friends do, Preston.”

  I yanked on the knot in my hastily redone tie. “Explain.”

  “This isn’t really appropriate for us to discuss.”

  “Right, because it’s appropriate for you to take cheap shots at a woman who’s done nothing to you just because she means something to me.”

  “What does she mean? Besides a convenient—”

  “Don’t,” I interrupted, shoving my fists into my pockets. It took everything I possessed not to use them. “Don’t even say it. Don’t even think it. Because not only will I quit this godforsaken firm, I’ll walk out the door and never speak to you again.”

  He inhaled deeply through his nose. “You don’t even know her.”

  “I feel like I do. I feel… Jesus, far too much.”

  And I’d never even gotten a chance to ask if she was all right afterward. She’d seemed fine for those brief moments we’d spoken, but maybe I’d missed a cue. I didn’t want her to be alone right now, shoring up her walls to shut me out.

  She probably figured I was doing the same.

  “Be careful, son.” His voice gentled. “I know we’re at odds right now, but contrary to what you obviously believe, I’ve never wanted anything but the best for you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Then don’t look at me, because I’ve been fucking miserable for years.” When he started to reply, I held up a hand. “I’m not asking for a violin accompaniment, okay? I know I’m lucky that I’ve had this job, that my lifestyle is beyond comfortable. You gave me opportunities my whole life that so many others haven’t had.”

  Ryan, riding around in a van with her mother, hadn’t had them. She’d struggled. She hadn’t even told me all the ways she had, but I could see some of what she’d gone through in her eyes. Her bravado draped around her like a cloak. Keeping her safe from those who would make judgments.

  Making friends through tarot. Wearing black so she didn’t attract too much attention, although that was impossible. Quietly helping others while claiming she didn’t need any herself.

  My first instinct upon learning about her work history had been to look down at her. None of the jobs she’d held were important. She wasn’t suitable for an attorney of my caliber.

  What a crock of shit. She’d hugged a woman she didn’t even know, because she was crying and broken-hearted. Her first instinct was to heal, not harm.

  And she was the unsuitable one? No, that was me, with my rigid rules and my need for order above all else. Meanwhile, the life was being constricted out of me, day by day.

  “Yet you aren’t happy.” My father phrased that as a statement, not a question.

  “No.”

  “You want to do something other than divorce law.”

  “Yes.” I didn’t know how he knew this all of a sudden, but I had to assume Dex was involved. “I want to help people instead of helping them be awful to each other.”

  I didn’t expect him to laugh out loud. Or that I could smile too.

  Until I thought of him cheating on my mother—and denigrating Ryan. Neither of those things could stand. My silence might as well have been agreement.

  “When did you stop loving Mom?” I asked quietly.

  “I didn’t,” he said after a long moment. “We love each other, son. We just aren’t in love. I don’t know if we ever were.” He let out another short laugh, this one far darker. “What is love anyway? Some romantic notion in the books. It’s not real. It’s not worth ruining your life.”

  I swallowed hard, thinking of the feel of Ryan’s skin under my fingertips. So soft and vulnerable, with that strength beneath that was both enviable and scary as hell. “It’s everything.”

  “We’re happy enough,” my father went on as if I’d never spoken. “She lives her life, I live mine. I take care of her very well. She wants for nothing.”

  “Except your love and fidelity.”

  “If you asked her, she’d tell you she was happy,” he insisted.

  Since I knew she’d done that very thing, I said nothing. How could she be happy when her husband wasn’t faithful to her? Money was a poor substitute for a true companion who adored you as much as you adored them.

  Not that I knew what that was like. I didn’t. My longest relationship had lasted perhaps half a year. We hadn’t been in love, just serious like. She’d dumped me when she fell for her polo instructor, a fact I’d found mystifying. The falling in love part, not that she’d developed a particular fondness for polo.

  But over the past couple of weeks, I’d started to question things. To wonder if maybe I could have that too.

  If I even had any choice in the matter.

  A sex hex wasn’t to blame, but something much more elemental. I’d never believed in love at first…email before, but I had to say, I was beginning to. And being with Ryan had only sharpened my hunger for her.

  Would that still be the case next week, next month, next year? Hell, sixty years from now? Once, I would’ve said of course not. Now everything was in flux.

  Especially me.

  I sagged into the chair opposite my father’s desk. “Are you happy?” I asked finally when the silence between us grew too deep.

  He didn’t answer for a long time. “Why does it matter?”

  I simply shut my eyes.

  My father let out a frustrated breath. “What the hell is going on with you? This isn’t you. You don’t behave like this.” Then after a moment, he made a sound that verged on a growl. “Let me guess.”

  “Don’t.”

  But he was on a tear. “Not since you were caught in that fountain with that ridiculous girl have you acted so erratically.”

  “Yeah, and that was probably the last time I was truly happy.” What a sobering realization that was.

  “So what? Do you think we all dance through life every day? No. We handle our responsibilities and take advantage of the perks we’re offered—”

  “Like your secretary, right? Was she one of your perks?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “No. She’s not a goddamn perk. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never let me touch her again, and you know what? She’s probably right. I’m not worthy of her. I haven’t lived the way I truly want to for so long that I don’t even know what it would look like. It’s a fucking miracle my dick still works.”

  At my father’s shocked expression, I gritted my teeth. So, I probably could’ve stopped before saying that. Honesty didn’t mean a need for family therapy sessions.

  But we did need one. All of us. Probably even Mr. Happy Go Lucky Dexter, though he was seeming wiser all the time. He understood he couldn’t put his real life on pause, because the world didn’t stop. I didn’t want to look back and realize my best years had passed me by and for what? I had enough money.

  What I di
dn’t have was fun. And pleasure. And freedom.

  And if I was truly being honest, love. A home with someone I could build a life with. I hated coming home alone, but maybe I didn’t have to.

  Not anymore.

  I kind of hated that Dexter was turning out to be the smart brother. Not that I’d ever tell him that. A man had to have some secrets.

  My father gripped the back of his neck and stared over my shoulder. “You never told me any of this. It took Dexter coming to me today to clue me into the fact that I was ruining your life.”

  I would’ve laughed at the melodramatic turn of phrase if it hadn’t been so true. Well, partially. “Someone is ruining my life, but it’s not you. It’s me.” I ran my fingertip over a slash of red on my wrist, rising like a welt. Ryan must’ve marked me. Would it be too much to get a tattoo right there?

  Huh, I could get a tattoo. I’d never done that before. She had a tattoo right in the same spot. A crescent moon and a scatter of stars. A good reminder to always look up.

  I’d forgotten that for too long.

  “This is starting to sound like a support group.” My father rose. “Do you want to step back?”

  “I do. All the way back.” I took a deep breath. “I’m giving my notice. I’ll stay on for as long as needed to close out my cases, but I’m done. Officially.”

  My father continued on as if I’d never spoken. “Dexter indicated he can take on more, and we can always bring in someone to help you after I retire. You can help with that selection. What about Bishop?”

  “Did you hear me? I just said I’m leaving. I have to go.” I shoved my fingers through my hair. “But yeah, I can talk to Bishop. I need to anyway. I won’t leave you in the lurch.”

  “You can’t leave. You handle everything here. Without you, this law firm will become a shadow of what it used to be. What about my legacy?”

  “Your legacy is your own. It’s not my responsibility.” Saying that—and finally truly believing it—was like dropping a burden I’d carried for far too long. “You just said Dex can help more. I’ll call Bishop. He’s been having some growing pains of his own, so maybe he’ll want to throw his lot in here. Maybe not. If he doesn’t, I can put out some feelers.”