Boss

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Boss Page 14

by Scarlett Ross


  The computer lights up, and the Monroe Enterprises screen appears. Popping in my USB drive, I am directed to a sign on. Using the dummy account Simon created, I log on, holding my breath that this actually works and hasn’t been deleted by an ingenious IT security officer who has nothing better to do than check on user ID validity. My stars are aligned, and I’m successfully on the intranet.

  Forty-five minutes later, my eyes are glazed over, and I have lost count of the amount of expletives I have hurled at this infernal contraption. How could I ever have assumed this would be something I could dive into and find all my answers? My knowledge of IT is minimal, and the files are a never-ending stream of useless data. No, immediate plans of scanning the procurement documents was shut down when Excel documents are longer than any human, hacker or not, can compute. The only information found on Monroe Enterprises fundraising is press releases the marketing department sent asking for approval. A search of Alpha Corporation was another dead-end as only Merrick himself has access. This is strange, but breaking into his office would be like breaking into Fort Knox. I know from hearing idle office chit chat that he has separate security in his office alone. Bruce has long left the office with a bellyache from all the provisions he partook, and he would never believe another incident had occurred to give my access to the head bossman’s office. Frustrated, I rub my eyes, and my elbow knocks over a group of papers. Wonderful, Ainslee, more shit to arrange. Leaning over in the chair, I go to pick up the stack I knocked down and stop short. Because mixed along with documents I can’t discern is a photo. It’s me at graduation looking hostile as the paparazzi stormed around Dad and I. Why would PJ have this in his office? The other men, yes, I can see where they might subscribe to that kind of bullying to flaunt my humiliation in my face. Even then, I doubt it would go that far but who the hell knows with them? Studying the photo, my face looks distorted with rage, and it’s not a good look for me. My forehead is wrinkled, lips pursed, and hate seems to ooze so much out of my pores that my face looks engorged. Definitely not the graduation photo you display on the mantle.

  Resolving myself to a loss for what was to be my big unveiling of the evils of Monroe Enterprises, the grandfather clock in the corner strikes 3 p.m. The IT men will surely be up soon and truthfully, I’m done. New plans will have to be made. Maybe I can get Simon back on board? Grabbing for the USB my hands are so cramped from the time it spent typing, I knock the little device on the floor. And promptly hear a curious voice say, “Ainslee?”

  PJ is standing by the door to his office, looking confused as my ass is up in the air. Without permission and somewhat illegally.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” PJ asks more than a little puzzled. Who can blame the poor guy? I’m ass up in his office, unexpectedly, and more importantly, uninvited. He is dressed as casually as me, and his appearance like this makes me want to break down barriers. He’s just clad in jeans but he's so achingly gorgeous, and my heart skips a beat. I’m not intimidated at all. He’s like any other man to approach me. There is no anxiety. We could be two friends chatting, except I have broken into his office under false pretenses and tried to steal insider information.

  “I was cleaning up the mess I made from breaking the vase. You know the vase outside your office? Well, I broke it, and I was worried there would be some damage to something. Bruce isn’t to blame at all. My way of thinking was better safe than sorry, you know? I’ve seen your office one time before, but you are the CIO. Perhaps you had equipment that needed to be protected. I am so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  The babble continues to spill out as he walks into the office with a skeptical look. “All the equipment for IT is stored in our storage facility in Queens for future reference. But thank you for looking out.”

  He’s letting me off easy. This makes me feel worse than when Bruce fell. “I was worried, yes very worried. I’m sorry for the intrusion. It won’t happen again.” Then I remember I haven’t retrieved the USB from the floor. I think up another quick lie.

  “Mainly, I was concerned because I lost a contact. Just let me look really fast, and then I’m out of your hair.”

  Bending over again, I make a mad scramble for my contact, aka the USB drive. PJ exhales loudly. Fuck me. I think he may realize the ruse.

  “Got it! Sorry, these things are expensive, you know? Of course, you don’t know. Unless you wear them too. But nobody could manufacture those beautiful cornflower blues you have.”

  PJ doesn’t move or make any expression. Bad idea, thinking flattery will get you everywhere, Ainslee. He’s probably been flattered up and down the Hudson River. He’s studying me in a way that makes me uncomfortable, in a way that lets me know he is pretending to buy my story but completely aware that it is all fabrication. Yet deep down, he is too much of a gentleman to accuse me outright of treachery. What is he doing here amongst these men who are nothing like him at the core of their souls? He’s so unlike what they stand for, and his visage is remarkably endearing. I feel like confessing all my sins and ghastly plans.

  “PJ . . .” I start and realize whatever is about to come out of my mouth won’t be lies. There is no lying to this man. Like I have felt from the beginning, he deserves better. He may not have intervened when he saw bullying, but he most certainly never perpetuated. His treatment has never been anything short of proper.

  “You see, well, I don’t know where to start or what to say.” Twisting my hands together and feeling like an errant child, I clear my throat. This isn’t the time for a full confession, but truly I’m at such a loss here. Why did it have to be in his office? If it was any of the others, I would be spinning a perfect tale right now full of woe and complete happenstance.

  “Ainslee, don’t.”

  PJ is twisting his hands in much the same manner I am. What does he have to feel guilty about? Catching me breaking into his office?

  “But you see.” My words are abruptly cut off as he comes toward me in one enormous step and crushes his mouth to mine. A startled gasp leaves my throat, and for a moment, I feel like I’m choking. He immediately steps back and breaks the kiss. We both take a step back and proceed to engage in the longest staring contest I have ever been in.

  PJ looks at me like I’m about to slap him. I look at him, thinking where the hell did that just come from?

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. But I’m intoxicated by you. I see you bending over the desk, and my mind goes to exotic places men like me only dream of. Your smell, your hair touching the small of your back, making me want to know how it feels if I ran my hands through it. Damn, I sound like a freaking Danielle Steele novel. You’re so sexy, Ainslee. I’m a gentleman, I promise you. But all I want is to bend you over and get lost in your body for a week or two.” He shudders and steps back even further until he’s basically plastered up against the door. He’s almost shaking he’s so lost. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” He turns to leave, and instantly, I feel like the lost one.

  “Wait!” He stops but doesn’t turn around to face me. Good thing because I seriously doubt I would have the balls to say what I am about to if he was staring me down again. I square my shoulders back and unbutton my blouse a few inches.

  “You want to get lost, southern boy? The country boy act is sweet, but I want you to burn me like Sherman burned Atlanta because you’re too beautiful for me to ignore anymore. The chemistry between us is insatiable, and I am tired of pretending not to want you.” I slide my hand down to my breasts. He turns to look at me and I swear his pupils dilate at watching me.

  “I’m saying it, PJ. I’m saying it out loud. I want you. And by the look of things right now, you want me too. Let’s just stop being naïve and go with it. Kiss me. Touch me. I can be the not nice one here. Get your ass over here and let me feel you.”

  He turns around, and the sweet southern boy looks like he too is ready to drop the niceties and get down to some hot and heavy business.

>   “Yes, ma’am, I’m on my way.” He grabs me with a force I thought he didn’t have and crushes my lips. He’s kissing me in that perfect passionate way with mostly lips and little tongue. My hands slide around his neck, and he encircles my waist and pulls me up until my feet leave the ground. This is completely different than what I had with Evan. This is sensual, slow, and innocent. It feels like two new lovers taking the time to really connect before they make love.

  “You are so beautiful. I have studied every inch of your face for weeks now, and I’m still learning nuances I didn’t see before. Your top lip’s bow is more pronounced than I thought originally.” He kisses my top lip and gently runs his tongue over the bow.

  I react by pulling his face down and kissing him with as much strength as I can muster. Wrapping my leg around his, he takes over and pulls both of them around his waist and walks us back to the couch in the corner of his office. Laying me down with extreme care, as if I might break, he stretches his frame over me. Instead of trying to grind against me or tearing at my clothes, we just keep kissing. It’s the longest make out session I have had since high school. But it’s delicious being trapped under his magnificent body that I pray it lasts forever.

  “Ainslee,” PJ murmurs against my lips.

  “Hmm.” The ability for intelligent speech escapes me, and really this is the only thing that can be formulated to say as of now.

  “May I please take off your shirt and bra?”

  Damn, I love those southern boys. How much I want to melt as he is still the consummate gentleman even though we’re getting down and dirty. His twang is even heightened. Maybe this is a common thing with southern boys when they are aroused. It certainly gets my juices flowing even more, if that’s possible. I nod my approval, and he pulls me up with himself and slowly begins to unbutton the last remaining buttons on my blouse. His warm palms glide around to my back, and with painstakingly slow movements, he unhooks my bra. My shoulders ease back to put my breasts on full display.

  “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I knew they would be after the glance I stole that day when you were changing. Forgive me, but your tits are beyond compare. I need to taste them. I want to lick your nipples until you’re out of your mind with lust. Let me?”

  Without uttering a word, I grab his cheeks and pull them straight onto my breasts. His tongue licks around each one in tandem, and I am out of my fucking mind with need. Sucking on one, he takes my other breast in hand and tweaks my nipple. Not hard or even at that point of that kind of pleasure pain I love, but just enough to make me wetter. He makes the most amazing sound when he’s pleasuring my breasts. It’s like when you are deep into enjoying a taste that you emit these little gleeful grunts.

  “I want to feel you too, PJ. Take off your shirt. I would hope a polite gentleman like yourself knew that turnabout is fair play.”

  Smiling, he eases his tongue off my nipples and back into my mouth. “Yes, you are right. Forgive my rudeness.”

  Stripping off his shirt, he lays back on me and rubs his chest against me while kissing me. My nipples are so hard, I worry about chafing him, but that friction is so gratifying I quickly cease to care. Back and forth, we rub, mouths never leaving each other. My ballet flats fall off, my legs wrap around him, and I find myself unbuttoning my pants. He stops and looks at me seriously. I am loving his need to ask me if every move we’re making is consensual, but at this point, it has to be blatantly obvious it is on my part.

  “Touch me. Unzip my pants and touch me. I need your fingers on me. I need your fingers in me. Please?”

  I see a wave of uncertainty cross his face. He strokes my cheek and drops his head down onto my shoulder. The moment seems to pass, and my confusion grows. Did I cross a line? Was I supposed to be the submissive one in this encounter? PJ doesn’t seem to possess a dominant bone in his body outside a boardroom, perhaps, so surely, I should be calling the shots. Just as I am about to pull away from embarrassment, I feel his hand firmly traveling down my stomach. He doesn’t hesitate or fumble as he draws the zipper down. Snaking a hand into my jeans, he passes over my panties with a slight brush.

  “You’re so wet.”

  “I am. You do this to me. It would be terribly impolite to leave me wanting, don’t you think?”

  “No more joking, Ainslee. I may be polite and courteous, but I’m about to be very rude indeed.”

  He jerks my panties to the side and slips a finger inside me. Damn, I love him polite and rude. He withdraws his finger and slides the moisture around my clit. Can women have premature orgasms? Because damn, I’m not going to last much longer. He moves in and out, up and down. My hips undulate into his finger. My plan is to come and then return the favor. I’m dying to see his cock, and like everything else so far, it won’t disappoint, I’m sure.

  “PJ. Oh my God, yes. Don’t stop. I want to come for you. You are so beautiful to me too. Looking into your eyes and seeing how much different you are than the rest, it makes my body and heart melt.”

  He stops. Without any preamble or any notice, he just stops. Levering himself up, he jumps off me like I just said he was repugnant. What the fuck just happened?

  “Ainslee, I can’t do this.”

  What? He can’t do this now? After all we’re doing and knowing where we wanted it to end up, he suddenly can’t do this?

  “PJ, I’m sorry to go back to my little quips about being polite, but you don’t think you can do this now? Why? Is it me? Believe me, I don’t want this to be just about me. I want to make you feel good too. Maybe we should switch for a bit? I may not be the most experienced, but I can make you feel good too.” I jump up and go to reach for him only to have him bat my hand away. And now, I am truly shocked because his action is the most combative he has been to me since I arrived.

  “Ainslee, I can’t take advantage of you. You’re my assistant. I can’t, okay? I just . . .” His voice trails off, and he runs his fingers—the same ones that were just inside me-—through his hair. He looks at me with such a tortured gaze that my body immediately goes cold.

  “Just like that? You can shut it off just like that?”

  “Ainslee, I can’t take advantage of you.”

  “Who’s taking advantage of who here? You kiss me, you tell me you’re intoxicated by me, you ask to take off my clothes, and then you just decide, oh geez maybe this isn’t the best idea? I’m sorry, PJ, but in my opinion that’s a dick move. And I was under the impression that you weren’t a dick.”

  “Perhaps you’ve labored under a false impression.”

  “I’ve labored under a false impression? Are you kidding me? You have a picture of me hidden under stacks of papers on your desk. I didn’t see any dart holes in it, so you must have it for a reason. Spank-bank material? Well, guess what? I’m right here. You can have me without imagining it.”

  “I have that picture because as part of our IT security, we monitor any sites that have defamed our employees. You have been on a watch list for gossip items since you got here, so we could eliminate any threats to your privacy or the image of the company. Has it not occurred to you that you haven’t been bombarded with press since you came to be employed here?”

  Shit. He’s right. I stopped looking over my shoulder after the first week and didn’t stop to wonder why.

  “Well, thank you for that. I guess I better be leaving then. I don’t want to be putting you in a position where you feel uncomfortable.” Picking up my discarded clothes, I quickly dress. Why do they keep doing this to me? And PJ, no less, the last one I would have every suspected to make me feel like this. Evan’s words come back to me about being aware that no one here is what they seem.

  “I’m leaving for the day. If you’re here and considering you are the CIO, I’m sure you are better equipped to handle the IT department and their upgrades than I could. Please dock my pay; I don’t want to take advantage of you either.”

  Walking to the door, I hear him call out to me, much the same way I did to him. But unlike me,
I’m sure this won’t have anything to do with needs and wants.

  “Ainslee, I’m sorry. I do think you’re beautiful. I meant every single word that crossed my lips. But you and I can’t happen. God knows I want it to, but it just can’t. You will never know how much that will haunt me.”

  My pride won’t let me turn around or even bother to respond. Stepping out of his office, I lean back against the door once it shuts and close my eyes. He won’t ever know how much that what just happened will haunt me. I barely register gathering my belongings and riding the subway back home. My mind starts to wander, and I quickly shut it down. I’m too raw right now to try to do a full analysis of what just transpired. A full day and night is still awaiting me, and my plans are to order as much takeout as possible, binge-watch as much TV as possible, and then probably cry my eyes out as much possible. Depressing, yes, but cathartic at the same time.

  Unlocking the door of the brownstone, I hear voices coming from the formal dining area. The last thing I need is any communication with Aunt Colleen or Chelsea, so I make for the stairs immediately.

  “Ainslee, is that you dear?”

  Dear? Who the hell is Aunt Colleen hosting that she would call me dear? Images of the Obamas or some important connection filter through my brain. I sure as hell hope if I’m expected to be present and keep up her little charade, there is booze involved.

  “Coming Aunt Colleen,” I manage to choke out and drag myself into the dining room.

  “Surprise, baby.”

  The tears I have been holding back since I left Monroe Enterprises freely fall on my cheeks, and my heart bursts with joy. My dad has come to visit.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I RUN to my Dad and embrace with a fierceness that only a child needing comfort can manage. The timing of his visit couldn’t be better. He hugs me back, and I can’t help but feel how he is even a little bit thinner than just a few months ago.

 

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