Unprofessional Bad Boys - Boxed Set (Contemporary Romance)

by Clarissa Wild

  “You told me they were your favorite, so I figured I needed to go big or go home.”

  “I can see,” she murmurs.

  “I would’ve bought more, but the store was out,” I say, rubbing the back of my head.

  She sniggers softly and smells them, momentarily lost in thought.

  I figure I should tell her the rest too. Now that I’m finally being honest and shit’s already ruined, I might as well take my chances and just go for it. Trust has to start somewhere. I just hope that, after all I’ve done, it’s not too late.

  “I, uh … I knew it was you,” I say. “When you applied. I knew you were the girl I bought those panties from.”

  Her eyes flash to mine, and she puts the bouquet down to listen to me.

  “I didn’t know it before you sold them to me. When you applied, they were already in my possession. If I’d known you were going to apply for a job at Morrows, I would’ve cancelled the order. But you had already sent it out by the time I found out.”

  “How did you know it was me?” she asks.

  I make a face, cringing at the thought of having to admit my pervy behavior. “I kinda stalked your Facebook profile.”

  Her lips part and her brows draw together. “Wait. How did you find my profile? My name was Pantylicious, but I didn’t use that anywhere else.”

  “No … but you did use an old email on some panty-selling website, and I used it to track you down.”

  She turns her head and blows out a breath.

  “I know it was wrong, and I apologize for that too.”

  “So you’re not just a panty sniffer but a stalker too,” she says, clutching the doorframe. “Great.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.” I shrug. “I didn’t mean to, but it just happens. Shit just flies my way.”

  “No, you create it.”

  “Semantics,” I muse, raising my brows, which makes her roll her eyes. “But you have to know that I didn’t do it to be weird. I was just … interested.”

  “In what?”

  “You.”

  My honesty has her taken aback, and she licks her lips as the silence returns for a second.

  “I liked you, and I couldn’t stop. I wanted to know more even when I knew it was wrong,” I say. “And then I found out you’d applied for a job at Morrows.”

  “Is that why you denied me the job?” she asks, cocking her head.

  “At first, yes,” I reply, mulling it over. “I was tempted but told myself to say no because… well, I bought your panties, and it would look really, really bad if anyone found out.”

  “You know I was so mad at you for declining me and then accepting me later,” she says, folding her arms.

  I snort and raise my hand. “Same.”

  “What changed?” she asks.

  “A certain individual changed my mind … and I’m thankful he did.”

  “Someone at work?”

  I nod.

  “I’m not sure whether I should go and thank him or tell him he’s just as dumb as you are.”

  I laugh, and she can’t seem to hold in her laughter either even though she tries to hide it behind a stern frown.

  I smirk. “I had that coming.”

  Lesley

  “Yes …” I say, not sure how to act around him. Everything feels so awkward. “But thanks for the flowers.”

  “You’re welcome. Oh, I forgot.” He sticks his hand in his jacket and rummages around until he’s found what he was looking for. A tiny box wrapped with a ribbon. “I didn’t wanna overdo it, so I bought a small one.” The smile on his face is infectious as he gives me the box.

  When I open it, my jaw practically drops. There are two vanilla macaroons inside.

  “Overdoing it,” I say, snorting. “Please.”

  He shrugs and says, “It’s a habit. When I like something, I tend to get everything and anything related to it.”

  “Like panties …?” I muse, raising a brow.

  He cocks his head, his lips pursing. “Among others. It’s just who I am. I hoard stuff and get really obsessive about it.”

  “Hmm …” Obsessive is quite an understatement, but I’ll take it.

  “Like I’m obsessed with you,” he adds, making my heart pound in my chest.

  Fuck. Why does he always have to grab my heart and rip it out like that?

  “So let me get this straight … you were obsessed with me, so you bought my panties, and when I came to apply for a job, you also hired me as your intern because you couldn’t let it go?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.” He’s just standing there with utter confidence. As if he knows it’s all kinds of wrong but still doesn’t give two shits.

  “I like your attitude,” I say with a snarky voice. “But I still don’t get why you wouldn’t just return them before I found out.”

  He smirks. “Because I liked them too much. Sue me.” There’s that shrug again.

  Guess there’s no way around it. He really is a perv.

  “No, wait.” He holds up his hand. “Don’t sue me. That … could get me in real trouble.”

  I snicker. “If you bring it like that, I’m actually tempted.”

  “Oh, shit,” he says. “Guess I’mma have to beg now. Want me to go down on my knees? Because I’ll do it. I’m normally not this easily persuaded, but for you, I’ll do it.”

  I don’t even know what to say, because I’m smirking so damn hard, and because my heart is jumping through hoops. I gotta tell myself not to encourage him even though I want to see him crawl badly. And maybe kiss my feet. Fuck, I’d let him.

  But that’d mean admitting I could forgive him. Or, you know, still imagine kissing him.

  But fuck, he’s the guy who actually bought my panties and sniffed them. Can I be okay with that? I know everybody has their own needs and some have a fetish, and that’s okay. I mean, I made money off it, for crying out loud. But he didn’t tell me. Not once did he make an effort. Except when it was too late.

  “Well …” I sigh, clutching the door handle.

  “Wait,” he says, holding up his hand. “Before you make a decision …” He rummages in his other pocket. “These belong to you.” He holds up the three panties. “I don’t want to keep them if it means hurting you.”

  I contemplate it for a moment, but then I realize what might have happened to those panties, where they’ve been, and how that would make me feel.

  “Uh … no thanks,” I reply. “Keep them.”

  “Well, that’s mighty generous of you.” He tucks them back into his pocket. I’m not sure whether I should be amazed or grossed out that he carries them around like that.

  “Sorry, this must be really weird for you,” he says.

  “Kinda.” I try to hide my cringe.

  “I … just love how you smell. I can’t help it. If that makes me a pervert, then so be it.”

  “It’s okay. I mean, everybody has his own taste.”

  “Oh yeah, like you have a fetish like this,” he jests.

  “Who knows? You don’t,” I say with a sassy grin.

  He narrows his eyes. “Is that an invitation to come and find out? Because I will … gladly.” The soft groans at the end of his sentence have my senses on high alert and my hormones going crazy.

  When he steps forward, I place a finger on his chest and say, “Uh-uh, not so fast.”

  “What?” He seems genuinely surprised I stopped him. As if I’m that easy.

  “First, you have to promise me …”

  “Yes.”

  I make a face. “I haven’t even told you what it is yet.”

  “I don’t care; I’ll do it.”

  I snort. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

  “So what is it?” He arrogantly leans against the door post.

  “You get rid of all the panties that aren’t mine.”

  He almost falls down. “What?”

  “You heard me.” I raise a brow. “Or are you going to chicken out on your promise now?”

 
“That wasn’t …” He clears his throat and growls, “Fine. I will.”

  Whoa. I didn’t expect him to actually agree to it. I’m impressed.

  “All right, bigshot. You sure you can handle it? Because I’m sure you’ll start to miss them once they’re gone. You’re a hoarder, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember.” He takes another step, inching dangerously close to me. “I’m not just a hoarder. I’m a sniffer too …” He takes in a big gulp of air. “And I just happen to have found exactly what I love to smell.” I grin and giggle when he sniffs my hair and whispers into my ear, “You.”

  “But will I be enough?”

  “More than enough. But I will require a donation … every once in a while.” The left side of his lips quirks up into a smile as he grabs my waist and pulls me close.

  “Donation?” I repeat, almost unable to talk because his lips are hovering above my skin, seducing me.

  “A contribution to my panty-monogamy,” he murmurs, his lips brushing along mine. “Something to keep me focused …”

  “You mean you want me to hand my panties to you?” I reply, lifting my head to look at him.

  He shrugs. “That … or I’ll steal them.”

  I put my hands on my side. “You promised—”

  “I’ll sink my teeth into them and snatch them before licking your pussy …” He groans, and I can’t help but zoom in on him licking his lips. “How’s that sound?”

  I can’t do anything but nod and stare … and then nod some more. He closes the door with his foot and grasps my face, taking my mouth as if he owns it. And I don’t even mind.

  Chapter 22

  Lesley

  With a stupid grin, I type away, rushing to finish the document so I can take it to TJ. I haven’t spoken with him much. At least, not since last time we had sex. Which was like … yesterday.

  But that’s beside the point.

  We’re keeping it on the down low right now.

  You know, so nobody notices we’re together.

  We’re being sneaky. Only kissing when we’re alone, like in the closet or the bathroom or his office. During lunch time and office hours, we keep it strictly business. It’s nothing personal. We just don’t want the rest of the employees to think I got this job because I blow him … every now and then.

  I only do it because he licks me on his desk. It’s a fair exchange.

  Although he does tend to steal my panties whenever we’re done, I don’t mind. As long as I know where they’re going and what he’s doing with them. Besides, if my panties are the only ones he wants to sniff, I’d call that a win. He’s not the only one with a fetish. I mean, I did love it when he put his tie around my wrists, and I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough that’s my kink. I like losing control.

  Only to the right man, of course.

  And TJ … I’m wondering if he’s it.

  Because someday, I want this to be more than just sex.

  But I wonder if he wants that too, and if we’ll ever get there with this office between us, hampering our relationship.

  For the time being, I’m content with what we have. As long as I get to keep my job and I can work on my side business during off-hours, I’m perfectly fine. And who knows, maybe I’ll start a business, quit this job, and then we can finally become a real couple. No show. No faking a platonic relationship. Just me, him … and the pooches.

  We’re like one big, happy family.

  Minus the family part.

  But we’ll get to that soon.

  First, I have to get this document to TJ and make him proud. I print out the plan and jump up from my computer. Pepper runs away from underneath my desk, where she was lying on my feet. I guess I scared her.

  “Aw, I’m sorry, Pep. C’mere.” I lure her with my fingers and pet her head. “Wanna come see TJ and Dozer?”

  Her tongue drops out the moment she hears their names, so I guess that’s a yes.

  “C’mon then,” I say, patting my lap. She jumps up, and I catch her. We’ve come so far since the first time we met. I can’t believe I actually love this dog. Although, to me, she isn’t really a dog. More like a small kid I have to take care of. And who could say no to that cute button nose and that waggling tail? Like who is that heartless? Not even me, even though I was scared to death at first. But I won’t admit that to anyone if they ask. Obviously. Gotta play it cool.

  When the printer finishes, I pick up the stack of papers and go upstairs toward TJ’s office where Gillian is sitting behind her desk, following my every move.

  “He’s not in right now,” she says.

  I stop in my tracks. “Yeah, he is. I saw him come in.”

  “He’s having lunch with some associates.”

  “I didn’t see him leave,” I say.

  She leans on the counter with her elbows and says, “So you’re watching him now?”

  “Of course, I am. He’s my boss. I’m supposed to deliver this to him, so I have to know if he’s here.” I show her the stack of papers.

  “You can leave it at my desk. I’ll take it to him when he gets back.”

  I make a face. “No thanks. I’d rather see him myself and hand them to him personally.”

  She narrows her eyes. “You’ve got a thing for him, don’t you?”

  Fuck me. The nerve.

  And fuck me for real because my cheeks are blazing hot, and I know she can see it because she’s gathering air in her cheeks and is about ready to burst with laughter.

  “Excuse me?” I say.

  “Well, I’m only saying.” She shrugs. “You seem a bit obsessed.”

  “Well …” I take a deep breath. “You seem obsessed with me. Do you have a thing for me?”

  Her jaw drops, and she makes a distinct ‘uh’ sound as if she’s shocked I even dared to suggest it.

  “Excuse me?” she says.

  I shrug. “Exactly what I said.”

  “I don’t date girls,” she says.

  “Whatever.” I turn and walk toward his office, determined not to let her stop me again.

  “Wait! You can’t go in there!”

  “Oh, yeah? You gonna stop me?” I’m too sarcastic to care right now.

  What’s she gonna do? Get me fired? Good luck.

  If he’s there, I’m going to make her face her lies, and if he isn’t, I’m going to drop it on his desk and make sure to keep an eye on her so she doesn’t snatch it.

  I don’t know what her problem with me is, but I’m almost certain it’s got something to do with the fact she’s upset at me for stealing his attention. That, or she wants my job.

  Either way, I’m not messing around with her, and she’d better not mess around with me.

  I march toward the door and open it, despite hearing loud music coming from the other side. My jaw drops and my brows draw together the moment I see TJ … dancing like a maniac … with a dog in his arms.

  “What the …?” I mutter.

  He’s also half-naked.

  Going crazy in his underwear like it’s nobody’s business.

  He doesn’t stop, and I can’t stop staring at the scene in front of me.

  Gillian grabs my shoulders and says, “I told you not to go in.”

  Suddenly, TJ glances over his shoulder and says, “Oh, shit.”

  He rushes to grab his pants and put them back on again while Gillian and I look away, pretending we didn’t see all that.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I tried to stop her,” Gillian says.

  “No, you lied and said he wasn’t there,” I hiss.

  “I see,” TJ says.

  “Sorry. I didn’t know you were having a freak-out in your office,” I say.

  “It’s a habit,” he says as Dozer jumps from his arms and runs under the desk.

  “This is why I told you not to go,” Gillian says. “This is his daily alone time.”

  “And you spend it by dancing like a lunatic?” I muse, peeking through my hand so I can see him zip up.

  He smil
es. “Yep. Nothing like a weird dance. Shake off all the nerves.”

  I snort. “I don’t know why I expected anything less from you.”

  “Do you need anything from me, sir?” Gillian asks. “Now that you’ve been interrupted, I may as well bring you some lunch.”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you. You can go now,” TJ says. “Oh, and for future reference … you can let Miss Fischer in when she has something for me. Got it?”

  She purses her lips and says, “Yes, sir.”

  I part my fingers again. “Can I look?”

  He laughs. “Of course, you can.”

  Gillian leaves and closes the door behind her. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  I sigh out loud when she’s gone. “I thought she’d never leave.”

  “You two don’t get along?” he asks.

  I smile stupidly. “I don’t think she likes me that much.”

  “Sure, she does. She’s just worried.”

  “About what?” I ask.

  “Oh … just … everything that concerns me,” he says, and he clears his throat. “Anyway, now that you’re here …”

  He turns around and grabs the dog that’s under the desk. Only then do I notice what he did to Dozer. “What do you think?” he muses.

  At first, my lips part, but then I burst out into laughter. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  The dog has a drawn-on moustache … and eyebrows.

  I don’t know if you’ve ever seen eyebrows on a dog, but there is literally nothing sillier than that.

  “Looks good, right?” TJ says, wiggling his eyebrows while moving Dozer’s up and down, and it’s got me cracking up. Like, honestly, I’m unable to catch my breath. That’s how hard I’m laughing.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter between laughs. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  “I know. It’s hard to deal with so much handsomeness in one room,” TJ boasts.

  “Is this what you do in your spare time?” I ask.

  “Yup. Gotta waste the time somehow.” He puts Dozer down again. “Besides, laughing’s healthy for you.”

  “And here I thought you were doing useful things with your time,” I reply.

  “Useful? You don’t consider a dog with a moustache and eyebrows useful?” He makes a face and shakes his finger at me. “Shame. Shame on you.”