Dirty After Dark (A Billionaire Boss Romance)

by Anne Connor

  It’s hard for me, when I’m the man with all the words. I always have something to say. Her hands reach down to mine, where I still have her waist wrapped up in my grasp. And now I have nothing to say, because I can’t find the right words. I’m so used to talking, but now I just want her to talk - to tell me what she wants.

  “It’s hard to say,” she responds. “I know you expect to go on this trip to New York with me. I know you expect us to have fun. Don’t you, boss?”

  “Yes. Very much so. I can’t wait to take you to my hometown. Have you ever been to New York?”

  She shakes her head and I reach up to slip a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She smiles meekly and touches her ear where my fingers landed.

  “I’ve never really been on an airplane before.”

  “You’re going to like it,” I say. The mood in the room shifts, and the air between us becomes electric. Her eyes glimmer at me and she bites her bottom lip softly, saying a million silent words without having to make a sound.

  “Sara,” I say, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

  My cock strains inside my pants, and it takes all of my willpower not to slide my hands down to her hips and pull her into my lap. Her lips part slightly, and her eyebrows begin to knot in the the middle, the hunger inside her rivaling mine. My body is on fire for her, her lips, her body.

  Like I said, I’m simple. I just want to run my hands over her soft curves, bury myself inside her, show her how good I can make her feel. Take away any question she has in her mind about me and her. Extinguish the questions. Replace them with all the answers and give her the right words to use.

  But I know what her eyes are saying. She’s saying take me. She’s begging me. But I won’t. Not now. Not like this.

  “If you want to kiss me, sir,” she breathes, her body becoming soft between my hands, “then why don’t you?”

  “You’re the one who said you want to keep things professional.”

  “I thought you were a man who goes after what he wants. That’s what it says on your posters, isn’t it?” There’s a hint of spice in her words, even though her voice is soft and sweet. “I saw a billboard with your face on it over the 101 about six months ago, but I didn’t know what I was even looking at. It said something about how you take, you don’t ask. It said only your audience asked questions. You just took what you want.”

  “You believe everything you read?” I say, smirking.

  “No,” she says, “but that just sounds like false advertising.”

  “Not at all, Sara. I’ll kiss you. I’ll take what I want. But not here.” I stand up, and she backs away from me slowly, her heels clicking against the bamboo floorboards. I take a slow, deliberate step toward her until her back is against the wall. I glance outside the conference room, through the glass wall, to the cubicles. Everyone’s got their head down, busily working on tonight’s episode, but I still won’t do what I want with Sara. Not yet. “You don’t want it here, right? That’s what you said. You said you wanted to keep it professional. I can’t believe I keep having to remind you.” I reach down and grab her wrists, holding them tight as she gasps. A devilish smile spreads across her face and her eyes sparkle bright with want.

  “It’s okay,” she whispers. “You can kiss me.”

  “I know I can, sweetheart. But do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” she gasps. “Yes. Please.”

  I take another small, firm step forward and she presses her body into mine, glancing nervously outside the office.

  “Ask nicer than that,” I say. “Ask me nicer.”

  “Please, boss. Kiss me.” Her lips beg me as her body trembles against mine, every part of her begging for me to take her right here.

  “I’m not going to. But if I were to kiss you, you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it all night. Now,” I say, pressing my stiff cock into her before letting her free, “we have a lot of work to do before our trip to New York.”

  As much as it fucking hurts, I turn around and start walking toward the conference room door with a huge grin on my face. When I get to the door, I turn around and see Sara leaning against the wall with her hands on her knees, a surprised smirk on her face.

  “Right,” she says, standing up straight and adjusting her blouse. “Lots of work to do. Let’s get to it.”

  13

  Sara

  I’ve got my head down in m books in the conference room when Ryan and Kayla come through the office after recording the show.

  Quickly flipping my phone over and checking the time, I scratch away an itch on my cheek and realize I’ve been at this for over two hours.

  The time has absolutely flown by in a way that I haven’t experienced in some time. When I was in high school, my chemistry teacher, Dr. Yan, would let me and a few of my girlfriends stay after eighth period got out to do some extra credit in the lab - supervised, of course. It was back then that time flew by, the minutes on the clock turning into hours as we completed the experiments contained at the back of our textbooks.

  But I haven’t enjoyed working like this in a long time. This research Kayla and Ryan have given me is allowing me to really dig in and get my hands dirty.

  I look over to Ryan through the wall between us and he flashes me his cocky grin, scrubbing the side of his face with his hand. Just his look, his glance, the slight arch of his eyebrow above his deep, swimming brown eyes sends a flutter of warmth through my stomach.

  Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to my books.

  The assignment is very interesting to me, something that seems so deceptively simple, but that I think is so important.

  When Ryan asked me why I wanted to pursue science, I wasn’t entirely forthcoming with him. It’s true that I want to help people, and maybe that’s partially selfish of me. It just makes me feel good to know I’ve assisted someone even in a small way. It gives me purpose and clarity to help someone learn a lesson, however small.

  But I haven’t told him about my mom yet. I haven’t even told him the basics, let alone any of the details.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Kayla come over to the door of the conference room and let herself in.

  “Hey,” I say, softly closing the book I was perusing. “How was the show?”

  “Oh, you know how it is,” she responds. “There’s nothing I haven’t heard yet. We had a caller today who wants her boyfriend to go down on her more. That’s an easy one.”

  “Right,” I say, feeling myself blush, remembering my little conversation with Ryan at the pool party. “Easy.”

  “Good work, by the way,” Kayla says. “And I see that you and Ryan have an excellent working relationship.”

  My heart freezes behind my ribcage. I don’t know if she is referring to his dirty words - his lips near my ear, whispering naughty things he should be - or if she’s referring to how, outwardly, the professional lines I’ve attempted to draw seem to be, for all intents and purposes, clear and respected.

  “Yeah,” I reply cautiously. “He’s a good boss.”

  “And you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” Kayla smiles and shakes her head, her pretty dark hair swaying around her chin. “I wish we could keep you forever. You’re picking up the technical aspects of the job, and you’re going above and beyond with all of your extra work. I even heard he’s going to take you to New York for this club thing.”

  “Yeah,” I say, relieved that she’s proud of me. “It should be really interesting. I’ve never been to New York before. Never been to the east coast.”

  “You’re going to like it,” she says. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. You tell me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks,” I say as she gets up from the table and walks over to the door, letting herself out softly. I spin around slowly in my chair and face the window, the inky black sky dotted with airplanes landing and taking off, zigging and zagging through the sky. The hills of Hollywood roll and turn and splay out, tumbling through my memor
y. I close my eyes and think back to being with Ryan at his house, in his home, in his guestroom. I wonder what his bedroom looks like. I smile a little, biting my lip, knowing that he’s in the room adjacent to me and wonder, without looking over, if he’s looking at me right now.

  The way he made me beg for something so simple - the feeling of his lips on mine, his skin on my skin - a kiss, something so innocent. But he made it so dirty.

  My eyes flutter open as he knocks on the glass dividing our workspaces. I swivel my head aside, my eyes scanning the window and the glowing city below me, landing on Ryan. He’s standing there with one hand shoved snugly in the front pocket of his Diesel jeans, the other waving to me.

  He pantomimes a spoon going into his mouth and shrugs. He’s asking me to dinner without using any words.

  My delicious boss crosses through his office and dips out, swapping over into the conference room, ducking his head in.

  “You hungry?” he says.

  “You want to get soup?” I say.

  “Soup?” He scrubs the side of his face. “I guess we could have soup. But it’s a little warm out for soup, isn’t it?”

  “Excuse me, sir, it looked like you wanted soup.” I mimic the way he dipped an imaginary spoon through the air. “Right?”

  “That’s the international symbol to tell someone you want to eat, not a signal that I’m craving soup.”

  “Gotcha,” I reply.

  “I was thinking sushi. You in? You’ve done enough work for one night.”

  “Okay,” I say, stretching my arms above my head. I can’t help but think I might be in trouble if I spend any more time with him tonight, but a girl’s got to eat. “Want me to call for delivery?”

  “I was thinking we could pick something up and then go back to my place. I saw you looking out the window. You’ve never seen my house at night.”

  My stomach flips and sends a chill of butterflies through my body.

  I did beg him to kiss me. Right here in this room, on the clock. I begged him. I asked nicely, like he told me to. Sweetly.

  And he said no. But he promised I’d be thinking about it all night. And he was right; I have.

  14

  Ryan

  We swing by Gari and I pop out to pick up a few rolls and an assortment of sashimi pieces. It’s my favorite sushi spot in LA, and sometimes I like to treat myself to something extra nice.

  Having Sara here with me isn’t hurting one bit.

  “We got a lot of awesome looking stuff here, boss,” she says as we unpack the takeout bags and I maneuver around the kitchen, grabbing a couple of small glasses and a bottle of sake I happen to have out from the night before.

  “I think you’re going to like the scallops especially. They’re sweet. Really fucking delicious.”

  As we eat, the conversation flows easily. Our sake glasses chime together before we sip our drinks slowly. Her eyes scan smoothly over my face, her eyelashes batting in a way she’s unaware of. We don’t sit at my dining room table overlooking my backyard and pool, where I’d usually take a girl. Sara and I eat standing up in my kitchen, moving around easily and eating from take-out containers. She helps herself to more sake when she wants it and pours some for me when she sees me running low. Her laugh sparkles and shines, and I feel full of fucking life when I see her having fun and enjoying herself.

  “I’m surprised I was able to pull you away from work,” I say, taking a sip of my sake. I’m leaning against one of the carrera marble tile counters I had installed when I bought the place about five years ago. Sara’s sitting on the counter across from me, easy and cute, one of her legs crossed over the other and her shoes dangling from the tips of her toes. “You’re trying to infiltrate my show and take me over, right? There’s no possible way you’re still in college and here as an intern.”

  “Okay,” she says, deftly maneuvering a bite of white rice into her mouth, “you’re right. I’m from a competing show. I want to steal all your listeners and bring down the Ryan Hart empire. Oh no,” she adds, “what are you going to do now that you know the truth? Are you going to keep me captive in your house?”

  “Yeah,” I say, my cock hardening inside my jeans, pressing snugly against the fabric, “I’m keeping you here. Permanently.”

  “Nice try,” she quips, “I saw that you have a recording booth here. I can record a show from here while you’re in the shower and a poach all your listeners that way.” She sticks her tongue out and winks at me.

  “I should punish you for talking to me like that,” I say, putting my glass down on the counter beside me. I put both of my hands on the edge of the counter and start drumming them, tapping out a steady beat. Sara’s eyes land on my fingers and then glide up my body to my face. Her lips and eyes soften under my gaze as I speak. “You have a bad mouth, talking to me like that.”

  Stepping toward her slowly and deliberately, I stop when I get to her knees, and I’m standing against her, brushing the edge of her skirt with my fingertips. She looks down at my crotch, her soft pink lips parted, and she takes a sip of her sake, swallowing hard.

  “I never gave you that kiss you begged for,” I say, taking the sake glass from her hand. Our fingers slip together as we touch, electrifying us. There’s no air between us. There’s nothing separating us.

  “You don’t have to,” she tempts me. “It’s your job to tell me what to do. I don’t tell the boss what to do. You give me orders; not the other way around.”

  “No,” I say, “it’s okay. I might be the boss, but I told you to beg. I knew you would. And there’s nothing I want more than to do exactly what you fucking want.”

  Her eyes flutter closed, her lashes brushing against her perfect sun-kissed skin as I lean forward, softly moving her hair away from her shoulder with my fingertips.

  “So what is it that you want, Sara?” I whisper, brushing my lips against her neck.

  She lets out a slow, low moan, sweetness and music to my fucking ears.

  “I can tell what you want,” I say, taking her in my hands, hitching my thumb under her chin and brushing my fingers against her cheek, my other hand slowly parting her legs as I get closer, standing against her. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she mewls, “yes.”

  I capture her lips with mine, brushing my mouth softly against hers, her sweet lips parting slightly as I push them open with mine. Our tongues sweep together as we breathe as one, her body melting in my hands as I push my fingers under her thigh and pull her to the edge of the counter.

  “Ryan,” she whispers as I break our kiss. “I’ve wanted you to do that since the second I saw you.”

  “What we want isn’t always what we say we want,” I say, pushing both of my hands under her ass. “I know that from my years in this business.”

  “So you think you can read my mind?” she breaths. “You think you know what I want just because I’m like so many other girls?”

  “No,” I reply. “But I can read you. I can see what you want. From the way you talk. The way you say things to me. The way you don’t take my shit.”

  She sighs heavily as I move my hands around her ass, to her thighs, parting her legs at the knees as I nuzzle myself closer. I hitch her skirt up to her ass and press my hardness into her. I can feel the heat and want coming off her as our mouth crash together in an electrifying kiss that makes my cock as hard as steel.

  Lowering my lips along her body, I kiss her neck, her collarbone, bringing my mouth farther and farther down. I push her back down on the counter gently until she’s putty in my hands, her breathing fast and hard. Parting her legs, I kiss her through her panties, pulling a moan from her lips.

  “I like kissing you,” I say with a smirk as she leans up slightly, supporting herself with her elbows up on counter. “Now, if I recall correctly, you like it slow. So I’ll take my time.”

  Her pussy is soaking wet for me as I kiss her, feeling out her clit through the soft fabric, grinding against it with my stiffe
ned tongue.

  She moans, her sweet sounds filling my kitchen as I dip a finger around her panties, pulling them to the side, licking along her slit, stopping at her clit and swirling my tongue around it. She tastes like heaven, and I can’t get enough as I draw her into my lips, pressing a finger against her tight opening.

  “Fuck,” she moans. “That feels so nice.”

  “You’re so wet for me, baby,” I growl, her pussy glistening and wet and hot. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  I push two fingers past her folds and slide them in, her tightness surprising. My cock is tough as a rod as I feel her from inside, curling my fingers up to her bellybutton and licking her clit gently, grinding out a tempo inside her.

  “Mmmm,” she moans. “Please don’t stop.”

  I do what she says. She seems like a good girl, but she’s fucking dirty now that I have her. I don’t stop, and I keep my tempo the same as I finger her, but I speed up with my tongue, lapping at her clit, grinding against her, making her soaked and ready for my cock.

  Her body starts to tense up and I bring my fingers in and out of her faster, pushing her over the edge. She gasps for air and her hands search for something to grab onto; I put her hand in mine and our fingers interlock as I make her come, her body tensing and grinding against my tongue.

  “Come here, baby,” I say, breaking away from her. I put my hand against the small of her back and sit her up, her back arching as she comes to me limply, her face pink with the afterglow of her orgasm and her bottom lip between her teeth, her lips turned up into a smile. Her fingers grasp wildly at my belt as I cradle her face in my hands, our mouths searching each other’s wildly, recklessly. Passionately. With fire.