His Naughty List
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
His Naughty List
Mika West
Contents
His Naughty List
Teaser
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by Mika West. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email authormikawest@gmail.com
His Naughty List
My new boss is a womanizing, gorgeous prick and I've just found His Naughty List.
It details all the dirty things he fantasizes about doing to the women in the office, but I'm not sure which I'm more angry about; the fact that he wrote it and left it for anyone to find or that the bastard didn't include me on the list!
I'm not even worth a mention. My boss doesn't remember me. I'm still a shadow in his eyes; easily forgotten from a few years ago. I should report him to HR, but then he demands that I accompany him to a once-in-a-lifetime event, and I see a golden opportunity to exact my revenge and get what I want.
And as long as he doesn't turn on the charm and I protect my heart, by the end of the night, he won't ever forget my name again!
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Teaser
He was kissing me again, and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing onto him too. Delving in for another taste of the man I’d dreamed about for countless years.
All sense of cold I’d felt before evaporated. The noise from the party quieted, it was like someone had turned the volume down. My whole world focused in on him and him alone. Where his hands were placed, stoking my body; how his tongue explored my mouth, tasting me. There was only him.
Blood roared in my ears, my heartbeat thudded, and finally, I had to come up for air. We parted, breathless. My limbs were weak and simultaneously buzzed all over.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long while too,” I said gazing up at him.
A devilish smile crossed his face, and he began to lean in again. I shook my head and placed a hand on his sculpted chest. His expression turned broody, thoughtful, trying to figure out why I’d stopped him from starting round three. Kissing him and more was high up there on the list of things I wanted to do, but somehow I managed to keep hold of my senses.
“The things I could do to you right now,” he whispered. His hand skirted over the soft fabric of my dress, around and up my thigh towards my ass. He took hold of my cheek and squeezed.
“We can’t,” I whispered back. “Not here.”
“We can. No one will care.”
“We should go back inside.”
“Oh, we will. Just not yet. I’m not finished.”
My mouth dropped open as he quickly lifted my dress, the gathered fabric hooked over his arm.
Chapter 1
I’d always loved winter. I loved the sky—that endless white that merged seamlessly into the snow-covered ground. I loved the laughter and the cozy fires and the steam of hot chocolate rising up to meet red noses. I loved lips—chapped from smiling, dusted with crumbs from cookies. I loved the music and the bells and the slush that squished beneath your boots as you walked.
Of course, that was before. Before everything went wrong.
Now, as I stared out of the large, floor-to-ceiling-windows in the break room all I could see was a sky that seemed more gray than white. The residual snow piled in mounds, dirty and hard, in the parking lot—the never-ending freeze kept them frozen and permanent. The wind was cruel and biting, and each new snow storm brought with it an ache that didn’t leave your toes, fingers, or ears, until long after you’d warmed yourself back up. Every time I looked outside I felt lonely; I felt the loss of last year just as strongly now as I had on that day—the day the warmth and pleasantness of Christmas took its last breath on a hospital bed. The day wreaths and snowflakes and carols turned into symbols of loss rather than joy. The day he—
“Uh, hello?”
The voice startled me out of my reverie. I looked away from the window to my new boss who was standing in the doorway of the break room. I wondered how long he’d been standing there watching me. Then I pondered how long I’d been absent-mindedly stirring his coffee. My cheeks flushed and all of a sudden I felt like I was a teenager all over again; my stomach flipped as I looked at him. Like it always had.
His stern gray eyes glared at me from beneath thick, furrowed brows. His jaw was clenched in annoyance as he walked over to the sink towards me, so he was standing directly in front of me, blocking any chance to escape.
“If I had time to come and get my coffee myself, I wouldn’t need someone else to do it.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, hastily removing the spoon. It hit the counter with an awkward clang and a spray of coffee splattered on its white surface. “Shit.”
He looked at me with a fierce scorn as I handed over the mug with an apologetic smile.
“I’m not paying you to daydream,” he said curtly, taking a sip. He met the drink with a grimace. “It’s cold.”
“I’ll make a fresh pot,” I offered quickly.
“Don’t bother,” he said icily, turning towards the door. “Just be thankful I don’t fire you.”
After he left the room, my shoulders slumped, the tension draining away. I wet the sponge and wiped the coffee off the counter and gathered myself. My heart was racing, and I held my chest for several moments before I felt my turbulent emotions settle.
Outside the window, it had started snowing. I concentrated on the chunky flakes as they fell, calming me.
It was only my second day on the job, and already it felt like it had been an eternity. It’s just temporary, I reassured myself before ringing out the sponge and returning to my desk. I can do this. I can survive a few more weeks with him as my boss.
At the end of the day, I braved the cold of the parking lot and climbed into my old blue Jeep Cherokee. The door squeaked when I opened it. My face still stung from the wind outside, my hands felt stiff and freezing even in their gloves. It was the coldest winter we’d ever had. I breathed into my hands and rubbed them together before shivering and starting the engine. It made a long choking noise before it roared to life. It was an old car, and it needed quite a bit of maintenance. The heater had broken months ago.
With my breath coming out in white puffs, I pulled my hat tighter around my ears and caught a glance of myself in the rearview mirror. My hair hung wispy and flat around my face. I looked tired and worn out. It didn’t help of course that my emotions were run ragged just being in the same building as him.
For a second I paused, staring at myself. It was amazing how much a person can change in a year and how the unexpected can through you for a loop. How loneliness and responsibility do more to age someone than wrinkles or white hair ever could. I readjus
ted the mirror, put the car into drive, and started home.
At dinner, when Liv asked me about my day, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. And there was no way I was going to tell her about him, or how it felt like my chest had reignited the moment I’d seen him.
“It was fine. The usual. Boring office work,” I lied.
She saw right through it. “I didn’t think it could be worse than yesterday?”
“Don’t worry about it; it was fine,” I said again. “It’s only temporary.”
“You—we don’t need this. You don’t sleep as it is; you hardly eat. You shouldn’t have quit your job at the bookshop.” I sighed and looked at my still full plate of food.
“It’s not the job,” I continued, though I felt guilty for lying to her. My sister and I shared everything normally. “It’s just a hard time of year. You know that.”
I saw her eyes lower to the table. She didn’t like to talk about Dad. She shook her head like she was trying to get rid of a fly. “If you’d just let me help. I could get a job then you could quit this one and go back to work part-time at the bookshop. Then you wouldn’t be so mopey all the time.”
“No. We’ve already talked about this. I need to work full-time, and there’s no way I’m letting you work. You need to focus on school, get good grades. Besides this pays more. We need the money.”
She sat back in her chair, and her wild, curly blonde hair fell on her face. She huffed it away and stared moodily at the wall, her lower lip stuck out like it used to when she was little.
“You’re not the boss of me, you know,” she said. I let her say this, but we both knew I was the closest thing she had to a parent, even if we didn’t verbally acknowledge it. It was us against the world.
I reached out and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I promise. Let’s change the subject, how was your day?” I flashed her my most convincing smile, but she still seemed less than pacified.
I had been so excited to get the job. I’d been looking for work for weeks when the temp agency called. I remember answering the phone—looking at the pile of overdue medical bills and mortgage statements—finally feeling a piece of the giant weight on my chest start to lift as the agent told me they’d found me something.
But now, the weight felt doubled.
I found it darkly funny. I didn’t understand why my new boss hated me so much. Yesterday, my first day, I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of recognition cross his face, and yet he seemed to have a personal vendetta against me.
I’d said hello and then, nothing, just contempt. And that dark, moody stare he threw my way whenever I saw him. Of course, I couldn’t tell Liv about it. She was my sister and best friend, and the age difference had never gotten in the way of our closeness. I wanted to talk to her more than anything, but I knew if I told her she’d storm into the building ready to take out the man who’d caused my misery. I didn’t want her to worry; she was young; it wasn’t fair to put any of the stress I felt on her. She had always been quick to act, loyal to a fault, just like Dad had been.
Secretly though, I wished I could afford to quit the job. Those severe gray eyes—always glaring—haunted me. No matter what I did, I couldn’t please him, and I had to come to terms with that.
“Are you not going to eat?” Liv asked.
I’d been staring at my food with a faraway look. For the millionth time that day I’d been lost in thought.
I shook my head and slid my plate across the too small table and took my glass to the sink. I packed away the leftovers then squeezed her tight around the shoulders before going to bed. She was the best person in the world. We were in this together but the less she knew, the better. I could handle the job for a few weeks, being around him, practically torturing my heart every single day. I could do it for her. I had to.
Chapter 2
Dad had been obsessed with Christmas and this time of year I felt his absence everywhere I went. As we approached the one-year anniversary, things felt just as raw as the day at the hospital, December 27th, when we said goodbye to the man who had been our everything. He’d been our center, our gravity. Keeping us close, secure, and safe. Now, we were just floating through space, hoping we’d soon find something tangible to grasp onto. Either that or I’d collide on some unknown planet and shatter into a million pieces.
Liv, of course, was the strongest. She was intense in everything she did. I always envied that in her, she got her passion and drive from Dad. From day one, she knew who she was and what she wanted. More importantly, she went after it. I could never be like that.
I just dropped Liv off at her school, and afterward, I stayed sitting there in the lot, remembering better times. I recalled my own days at the school well. Liv and I were polar opposites in terms of personality. When she walked onto the quad, every head turned to look. In comparison when I was in school, a girl who I’d had classes with for three years asked me if I was new. I’d walked like a shadow around those halls, my nose always stuck in a book, with barely anyone noticing me.
Liv walked towards a large group of students. They looked her way when she arrived, immediately parting and welcoming her. One of them said something and I saw her bend back, her body shaking with laughter. I wondered how she could turn off the sadness. I feigned cheerfulness a lot for the people around me, but I hadn’t managed a smile that big or a laugh like that in almost a year. But I was glad for her, happy that she didn’t dwell on the things that managed to catch me so unguarded.
I envied her smile not because I craved her happiness. I was only jealous of her ability to fake it. I had known Liv all her life, and I had seen all sorts of smiles—happy ones, and shy ones, and mischievous ones. And I knew that smile too, that big, beaming smile. I only ever saw that one on my little sister’s face when she needed to convince others, and herself, that every other part of her wasn’t breaking.
Liv disappeared inside the school. I’d taken to dropping Liv off at school in the mornings. I said it was for her, but, really, I think it was for me. Yet I always got an odd feeling being back there, looking at those entrance doors and musing on my memories of my high school years. It gave me a lot of mixed emotions. I’d enjoyed my classes, but I had always got along better with my teachers than I did other students. All four years went by without incident, bad or good.
Except, of course, for Tommy.
I first saw him on a brisk autumn day at the start of my sophomore year. He was tall and classically handsome, with a hard jaw and piercing eyes. Most of the other boys his age were still growing into themselves, their bodies lanky and disproportionate. But, already, he had stubble decorating his jaw and a matured athleticism that made him stand out in a crowd of boys still recovering from puberty. I asked my friend, Nicole, about him and she’d said he was new to the school, a junior, but he’d already found his place among the jocks. Immediately accepted. This was evident when he’d jumped on the back of one the footballers standing near him. He then mimed whipping him like a horse. I, of course, watched from the shadows by my locker.
The jocks in the circle were in a fit of laughter. Tommy galloped his new friend in my direction, and the group was lost in hysterics. As they got closer, I could make out his voice, lower and huskier than the rest of the boys. His laughter was so infectious I couldn’t help but smile as I watched. I wanted immediately to know him, to be the reason he smiled. I felt my heart in my throat every time I saw him. Every time he passed me. My skin tingled whenever he was near. I devoted the remainder of my high school years to pining after him.
He, of course, never noticed me once. We went about our parallel lives. He stuck to the jocks and popular cliques while I spent most of my time hidden away like a mouse in the library with my best friend, Nicole.
Most afternoons he’d be there too, and he’d always sit at the same table every day—two down from ours. Even though I saw him almost every day, he remained a mystery. Of course, there’d been rumors around the school, and I mana
ged to get some information about him without being too obvious about it. He and his dad moved around a lot, though it wasn’t clear the reason. I presumed perhaps his dad was in the military or his job caused the moves. I couldn’t be sure, though it must’ve been on hard on Tommy. Especially so when I heard that his mom had left them when he was little, and I guess his father had never been the same afterward. Looking back, I now know the kind of toll that has on someone.
Sometimes, in the library, for a second my heart rate would spike as I thought I’d catch him looking at me but then, of course, it would plummet because, in reality, he was only looking at my best friend. Nicole had never been without male attention in high school. I’d known her since elementary, and her body looked like a woman’s long before anyone else’s. I kept the body of a twelve-year-old boy well into high school. Being a flat chested book nerd was never well received by my immature peers. The most attractive thing about me was my best friend.
Nicole was friendly enough, but mostly I spent time with her because I knew her so well and because of our close proximity. We lived two houses away from one another, and it never dawned on me that I had a choice in liking my best friend. When she told her other, much cooler, friends from English class that he stared at her in the library, they teased her about it, but I supposed she took it the wrong way because she lashed out. Prompting her to say, “Like I’d ever go out with him. I’m not at all surprised his mom left.”
At times like this, I hated her. Nicole had sharp edges. If you got on her wrong side, she was likely to cut you.
Still, I clung to the hope that one day Tommy would notice me. A foolish teenagers dream, I supposed.
I could see him looking at us out of the corner of my eye, and I would imagine he was looking at me rather than her. I would sit at my table, sometimes alone if Nicole left for an after club school meeting, not even wanting to move because just being near him was intoxicating. I could feel his presence so acutely that I felt almost nauseous when I thought of him there—less than ten feet away from me. If I’d only had the courage to strike up a conversation, to say hello. To get to know him. Maybe things would’ve been different.