Boss with Benefits

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by Mickey Miller


  But without the tie, he’s someone completely different. He’s not your average over-the-top alpha male billionaire. He has this relaxed demeanor, like the country boy next door who can get down and dirty with the best of them. More casual, more layered than some suited businessman.

  Still, he does look damn sexy in a suit.

  My clit swells throbs with heat and need, begging for relief. So I slip my hand beneath my panties, and the first soft, desperate moan escapes.

  Why have I not gotten over him?

  Sebastian’s the type of guy who would seem to have unlimited patience until you crossed his line, and then he’d unleash on you.

  I dig the fingernails of my free hand into the pillow above me.

  I’d love for him to unleash on me.

  My hips rock ever so slightly with each stroke of my finger.

  As I touch myself, a scene unfolds in my mind, almost uncontrollably. I don’t fight it, nor do I question what it means. I just give in and allow it. I visualize it and give the details free rein.

  He enters my room, a country boy in a charcoal grey suit.

  “Hello Brett. You’re so wet thinking about me, aren’t you?”

  Yes. God yes.

  He stares at me with his dark brown eyes, taking off his suit coat and tossing it onto the back

  of a chair. His frame is slim at the waist and wide at the shoulders.

  “I’ve been thinking about this for years,” he continues. “Fuck, Brett, you look so damn sexy. When the hell did you grow into a woman?”

  I rub my finger over my swollen clit and another moan escapes me, louder this time.

  Still with a laser focus on me, he removes his tie.

  Followed by his light blue collared shirt and undershirt, showcasing his beautifully toned body.

  He takes it all off.

  My breath hitches, as he removes his pants, and his dick is as big as his presence.

  He slowly strokes it as he walks toward me.

  “I can’t wait to be inside you, Brett. But first I want to do this.”

  Sebastian unhurriedly kisses each of my legs, starting at my calves, until he lands between my legs with his head.

  “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

  Softly, he tongues my clit, barely touching me.

  I moan again.

  Finally he takes out his thick cock.

  “Beg for it.”

  “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please fuck me.”

  He penetrates me slowly, inch by naughty inch. It’s not long before he rocks into me with his whole weight.

  Oh, God.

  I moan louder, and glance at the door to make sure it’s closed.

  Screw it. I throw my panties off and spread my legs. I’m so wet.

  I press my fingers on my swollen nub, rubbing in a tight circle.

  My other hand drifts to my breast and I pinch my nipple.

  “Oh God,” I mutter as I come, panting.

  Three - Sebastian

  It’s an old rule of sales.

  If you can’t beat someone, hire them.

  On the surface level, it might seem counterintuitive. But a hallmark of a good entrepreneur is knowing when and how to put your ego aside for the good of the company.

  And yeah, I admit. I have a nice-sized one.

  Ego, that is.

  I know talent when I see it. And Brett Blue is the very definition of talent with a capital “T.”

  I smile as my eyes drift over Brett’s resume. Somehow, she managed to stretch her twenty three years of life, including just two and a half years of college, into one and a half pages of bullshit.

  I have to hand it to her though, because she’s got some decent writing skills to do so.

  I peruse her very first bullet point.

  Blackwell Country Pizzeria – Server – two years

  -Worked twenty hours/week in Blackwell’s most bustling restaurant at the time

  -Ensured maximum satisfaction for patrons

  -Extensive knowledge of a menu featuring over eighty different items

  -Kept calm in the face of unruly customers

  Holy shit. That’s where I know her from.

  I snap my finger in realization.

  In my early twenties, I was all in on starting the ‘Blackwell restaurant renaissance’ in this town.

  Brett worked for one of my restaurants. “Tomboy” Blue is what the crew used to call her. She was just skin and bones back then. And having a name that was typically reserved for a guy made it easy for the kitchen staff to give her crap.

  I reread the line she wrote, ‘kept calm in the face of unruly customers.’ My memory goes wild, and I remember one fourth of July when a customer got out of hand and tried to punch me.

  And she went in for a kiss to thank me.

  Brett Blue planted one right on me in completely inappropriate fashion.

  Damn if she hasn’t come into her own since then. She’s anything but a tomboy now, though the way she tried to hide her feminine beauty with that baseball cap showed shades of her past personality.

  Fuck, she was hot when I saw her yesterday. Sea blue eyes, those hot lips and blushing cheeks. I doubt she even had any makeup on.

  Is getting a boner during a negotiation an acceptable reason to lose a deal?

  No, fuck that.

  Only soy-boys can’t control their attraction. You know the type I’m talking about. The type of “men” who are more likely to be able to make a soy latte than to be able to do anything with their hands, or go hunting and actually come back with a kill.

  Soy-boys.

  Me?

  I’m more comfortable on a tractor than in an air conditioned, sterile office. I live for the battlefield--which for me is one of snapping necks and cashing checks. And despite the affinity I’ve developed for my array of custom made suits, I’d take a day on the lake fishing any day over the office.

  There’s a knock on the door, and before I can react at all, it opens.

  I’m expecting to see Brett, the little shit. I don’t doubt she would be the type of girl to knock on the door and not wait for me to tell her to enter, even on her very first interview.

  But instead, in enters Blackwell Industries’ in-house lawyer, Kim Murphy.

  “Oh, hi there,” I say, rising from my chair. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Kim flashes her eyes as she comes toward me. Today she’s got on lots of mascara that emphasizes her eyes, to go along with the power pant-suit she’s wearing today.

  Once at my desk, she shakes my hand with a wry smile. “Like you always said, surprise is one of the best weapons to have in your arsenal.”

  I cock my head and squint her way, examining her face to see if it reveals the true nature of her visit. “Last I checked you were working for me. Not against me.”

  She smiles. “Of course, of course. That’s a figure of speech. Now, I have a couple of updates for you. And Fiona told me you have an interview coming in today for the open sales role, so I thought I might sit in on it.”

  I sit back down in my chair, and motion with an open palm for Kim to take one of the seats in front of my desk.

  “What updates?”

  “I was reading through the details of your Shallowater Distillery proposal. I know you’re waiting on my ‘okay’ before crews break ground on that one.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “Not good. Even though most of the development is in the southeast corner of Blackwell County, surveyors found that one wing of the design falls in Furview County, which is dry.”

  “Fuck,” I say, slamming my hand on the desk. “We can figure something out though, can’t we?”

  “Yeah, sure. We can…it’s just going to involve redoing the entire architectural design. Could take months with all the details involved. We’re thinking about an “L” shaped design.”

  I clench my fist and take a deep breath. “Alright.”

 
; “So what about the Oro Valley deal? Did you snag the Blue Estate yesterday?” Kim says, and I wonder if she’s already found out but is just looking to twist the knife. “Fiona said you went out there yourself. Must have been serious.”

  “No, I didn’t get the property I needed,” I say, my voice a low growl.

  “Why not?” Kim arches an eyebrow at me.

  “I’ve been busy. I’m probably hiring someone new.”

  “Oh, okay. What’s his name?”

  “Brett Blue. And it’s not a--” My intercom buzzes, interrupting me before I can finish my thought. I push the button to listen to my secretary.

  “What?”

  “Sir,” Fiona says. “Miss Blue is here.”

  “Great. Send her in.”

  Kim scrunches her face up at me. “Brett’s a girl?”

  The door opens, and she has her answer as Brett enters my office, her long blonde hair falling freely around her shoulders. She dons a blue dress that hugs her hips and falls to her knees. It’s tight yet classy, and if I’m being honest she looks stunning. A far cry from the farm girl with a baseball cap I met yesterday morning, though I found that version of her equally attractive, if not more so.

  Shit, did I say attractive? Fuck that word. It’s too soft.

  She’s downright mind blowing.

  Blowing…

  Shit. My dirty mind takes off on it’s own, and suddenly I’m picturing Brett bobbing up and down on my cock in the office, me holding her blonde hair out of the way.

  I scrub a hand on my chin and push all of those dirty thoughts to the closet of my mind and shut the door.

  “Hi Mr. Blackwell,” she says in a professional tone of voice, that lovely Blackwell accent sprouting from her tongue.

  I clear my throat. “Miss Blue. You’re right on time. Have a seat, please.” I gesture with an open hand to the seat right next to Kim.

  “Miss Blue, meet Miss Murphy. Miss Murphy has been Blackwell Industries’ in-house law council for many years.”

  “So nice to make your acquaintance,” Brett says with an outstretched hand. Kim seems a little reluctant, but she takes the hand and they shake.

  I take a deep breath and Brett turns to me, batting her eyelashes, and again she catches me just slightly off guard.

  Kim has a grim, fake looking smile on her face as she sits with her legs crossed and her posture a little too upright. I’m not sure what’s got her panties in a bunch.

  I refocus and fold my hands on my desk, forearms right on top of Brett’s resume.

  “Brett, let’s not dance around why I’ve brought you in here. Strangely enough, after our encounter yesterday, you applied for the open position at Blackwell Industries. Why?”

  “I need a job,” she says without hesitation.

  “So you turn down a lucrative offer for me to buy your property, then proceed to apply for a job that pays thirty thousand base salary? I’m just trying to understand your logic.”

  She raises her chin, her expression steady.

  “My grandpa built our house with his bare hands. I’m not giving it up so you can build….whatever giant corporate operation it is that you’re thinking of building on top of my family’s property.”

  I nod. “I respect that, in a way. Even though I disagree with you. A Blackwell Industries Ranch would bring hundreds more jobs to the area. So why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?”

  She shifts, legs together.

  "Well Sir, I'm born and raised just outside of Blackwell. I went to Blackwell High School, then took classes at the community college for two years. After that, I transferred to Blackwell U, but I ended up having to take a break from classes after a semester when my father got sick."

  "I see. And you haven't thought about going back?"

  "Of course I've thought about it. I just don't feel like going more into debt, when I already know what I want to do. I don't want to get some degree that ends in "studies" just so I can be in the same spot two years from now only with more debt."

  I nod as I take a sip of my coffee, and I have to say I'm impressed. After spending all afternoon yesterday interviewing college graduates, there's no doubt in my mind she's whip smart. Some of the kids that came in yesterday - shit. I felt like I was talking to high schoolers at best.

  "What else would you like to know?" she asks.

  "Well, you applied to this job and, quite frankly, you're much younger than every other applicant. Why did you apply to this job, specifically? Do you have an aptitude for sales?”

  She touches her hair and flips it over her shoulder. “If you want the honest truth, I just googled ‘jobs in Blackwell’ or something like that and this one came up. I need a job. So I applied. It’s that simple.”

  Kim nods, then stands up. “Well, thank you for letting me sit in on this interview for a bit. I just remembered I have a conference call I have to get to on the half hour,” she says, and she heads toward the door. She pauses for a moment, looks at me, and then at Brett. “I’m sure the second half of the interview will go smoothly. Maybe you’re just nervous because I’m here,” she adds, her eyes small and squinty.

  Brett laughs awkwardly. “I’m just getting warmed up,” she winks.

  “By the way, for your next interview, you probably want to take it easy on the perfume, Brianna,” Kim adds.

  “It’s Brett. Like a boy’s name, Brett,” Brett repeats.

  “Of course. Until next time.” Kim cocks her head my way, smirking sly like we have a secret.

  Which we don’t.

  Not really, at least.

  I’m not sure what to make of Kim’s snark.

  I’m no expert in woman-speak, but I notice a bit of venom being exchanged between the two females, though I have no idea what it could be about. I mean shit, the two of them only just met each other.

  I feel like I just saw a reenactment of a scene from Mean Girls.

  I decide to stay focused at the task at hand, and turn my attention back to Brett.

  Suddenly, I’m conscious of the fact that we are the only two in the room.

  And she’s running her tongue over her lips. She crosses her legs, shifts in her chair, and sets the gaze of her blue eyes on me, and I swear she must know some hypnotic techniques, because I’m mesmerized by her.

  “Where were we?” I say.

  “Oh, I think we were just getting to the part where you tell me whether or not I have the job,” she smiles.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I scoff.

  “Well Sir,” she returns. “I don’t mean to be forward, but you called me literally thirty minutes after I applied. You brought me in for this interview lickity split. I’m going to go ahead and assume you don’t have much time to lose in getting your new hire on board. And that you haven’t had much talent come in and apply for the position. I’m here, and I’m your talent. What else do you need to know? I’m an open book.”

  I lean back in my chair and shake my head, smirking ever so slightly. I can’t believe this woman. First she makes a fool out of my offer yesterday. And now here she is pretending like she’s already got the job when we’re barely fifteen minutes into the interview.

  She’s already assuming the damn sale.

  Shit, apparently she doesn’t even have to read the book. She’s a natural at negotiating.

  And I’d be an idiot not to hire her.

  Still, I’m not about to give her the job like it’s nothing. I’ll think of something good to challenge her with.

  “Let’s change gears for a moment, Brett. Do you have any questions about the position?”

  “What will I be selling?” she asks. “And what’s the day-to-day like?”

  “Day to day, you’re in the office, following up on a few emails, making calls, and making sure all of the purchases are in accordance with the local laws, that kind of thing. And also handling any special projects that may come along.”

  “And when I’m not in the office?”

  “Yo
u’ll be out in the field, getting people to sell their property to you. Since my plan to start a ranch east of Blackwell fell through, now I’ve got to try and build it west of Blackwell.”

  “Why did it fall through?”

  “You really want to rub it in, don’t you?”

  “Rub what in?”

  I can’t tell if she’s playing dumb, or is too naïve to realize what she did to me.

  “Well I offered this family—the Blue family—a hefty sum for their rural estate to the east, but they turned me down. Without that central property, the ranch I’m planning to build will never work. So now I need to start buying up property to the west of Blackwell. And that’s what I need you for. So you’re not really selling a product—you’ll be selling people—mostly gentlemen—on the idea of me buying their property…”

  “So you can build a big ranch.”

  “Yes.”

  She falls silent and takes a deep breath.

  “I’m a little conflicted, but alright. I guess I’ll take it.”

  I laugh out loud. “You’ll what?”

  “I said I’ll take the job.”

  “I haven’t offered you anything yet.”

  “Oh, so I don’t have the job? Well, I suppose I can see myself out then.”

  She stands abruptly, and heads for the exit.

  “I didn’t say that,” I backtrack. She doesn’t stop walking toward the door, her heels clicking on the hardwood.

  Fuck. She is a master negotiator. And it’s all instinct.

  She’s impressive.

  I whip out from behind my desk, walk briskly to the door, and block her from leaving.

  “I’m gonna hire you. Right here, right now. You report to work tomorrow at eight a.m. I’ll have Fiona send you over the introductory packet and get the signatures and the paperwork taken care of. Got it?”

  She looks me in the eye, then looks away at the door. “Yes sir.”

  “I’ll have Fiona contact you with the details. See you tomorrow.”

  Motherfucker. Having a bombshell like her around the office is going to be an exercise in self-control.

  But then, I have the most self-control of any guy I know.

 

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