Kiss my Boss (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant Book 1)

by Kelli Callahan

  Just a little longer, I thought. Just a little bit longer of feeling her lips against mine because every second that ticked by, the more relaxed she got and the softer her kisses became. I could feel the plump tissue in the red clouds that made her mouth, the cushion giving against me. I wanted nothing more than to unzip my cock and plunge deep inside her, but that would be crossing a line. This would never happen again. We were just getting a taste, that’s all. That was okay. It was okay to give in to temptation every now and then.

  Her hands touched every inch of my chest and back, groping me, pulling me closer. My entire body felt like molten lava. I shook like an earthquake waiting to explode. My hand found her throat, my palm engulfing it in a threatening manner if I was a violent man. I put a little pressure against her windpipe, and she ground her pussy against me.

  My cock was trying to tear through my trousers to get to her. I pulled away, needing to see her face as we ground against each other. What was this to her? Her eyes were glazed over, the beautiful green pools nothing but black dots, the iris completely gone. She almost looked demonic, possessed by an entity that was no good for her.

  It was me.

  I was the demon in her veins, and the only way to get me out would be to exorcise me. Even then, I’d fucking linger.

  I’d make sure of it.

  I applied more pressure with my hand that made the back of her head thud against the wall, watching her face turn a beautiful shade of red that almost matched her hair. I curled my hips, pressing the thick crown of my cock against her clit. Her mouth opened, and another pornographic sound came out. I took my other hand and shoved it over her lips, muffling her pleas and cries that fell from her with every thrust I gave.

  Lucy was so wet and hot; I knew I’d have a wet spot on the front of my pants when I’d pull away eventually.

  “Look at you,” I said in awe through strangled breaths. “You’re close, aren’t you?” I licked my tongue across her lips. “I don’t think you hate me that much at all.”

  Her hand flies to my cock, gripping the steel length in her palm, and she repositions me under my pants. I pressed against that sensitive button again, and her legs shook around my waist. “Maybe not, but maybe if you knew where my clit was, I’d already be coming. Whose time are you wasting?”

  It was the worst kind of jab a woman could make against a man. I knew she was lying, by the sounds pouring from her lips, I was hitting her clit every single time. She was close to shattering in my arms for the first time. I wrapped her hair around my wrist and pulled to the left, using it like a rein to control her. “Is that so?” I growled against her lips. I pulled my cock back from her heat and dropped my hand between her legs, cupping that tight little cunt. “This isn’t your clit?” I pressed my thumb against the erect nerve, rubbing it in circles. “That isn’t what is about to make you come all over me? You don’t think I know your body? You don’t think I know how to please you?”

  Her nails scratched down my arm, digging into the sensitive skin of my bicep before clawing at my hand around her throat. I pinched her clit between my fingers, and I watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the same time, a bead of sweat dripped from her temple. I fell forward and licked the salty drop off her skin as her muffled scream vibrated my hand with hot moisture. I left my hand on her cotton panties, feeling the heat, feeling the soft tissue of her luscious folds. The material was dripping from her orgasm.

  “Don’t ever disrespect me like that again,” I said, fumbling with my belt and zipper. When my pants dropped, my cock bounced free, and I groaned when the air wrapped around the leaking head. Her eyes rounded when she saw me, the thick, intimidating size of me that had been hiding from her this entire time. I knew what she saw. I wasn’t a small man, and with her curvy body so close to me, I knew I could slide her panties to the side and inch my way into that tight cunt.

  I wouldn’t.

  Feeling her walls clench around me would send me into a spiral I knew I couldn’t come back from. I did want her to feel my come hit her, so she knew what she was missing. I gripped the front of her panties and ripped them off, the tearing of the thin fabric made her gasp, and I covered her mouth with mine again, swallowing the sounds that could only belong to me.

  No wonder Brian stalked her. He couldn’t get enough of her, he was addicted, and I knew the same thing would happen to me if I felt her wet channel around me. I wouldn’t let her hands touch me either. My self-control hung by a very small, very thin thread. I let go of her neck, and she breathed in much-needed air as I lifted her arms above her head and clasped both of her wrists in my right palm. I squeezed tight, not tight enough to hurt her, but tight enough to let her know not to test me.

  My free hand tightened around my shaft, and she watched the expressions of pleasure fall over my face as I fucked my fist, aiming my cock at her cunt. I was ready to shoot, ready to soak that pretty pink pussy dressed in red-trimmed hair. My eyes drifted from her eyes to her cunt. It was shining, her thighs were wet from her release, and they were about to get wetter.

  “Say my name,” I demanded when my orgasm pulled my balls tight. I wanted to hear my name fall off her lips as I came.

  “No.”

  Oh, the defiance in her only made me want her more.

  “Say my fucking name, Lucy!” I shouted a bit too loud. It was possible Barbara could hear me, but at this point, I didn’t give a shit. I wanted to hear my name. I was desperate for it, broken for it, craved it. “Lucy,” the sound of her name was a plea.

  I stroked myself faster, the slick wet sounds of my precome as lubricate was all I could hear besides her moans. Her body wiggled, and it caused her sheath to open a little more for me. I saw the hole I wanted inside of so bad, white glaze flowed out of her, her come showing me how much she wanted me.

  She could fight me, and I could fight her, but we were inevitable. I’d fight it for as long as possible, but I knew, I knew Lucy Green was the woman that would break every defense I had.

  “Godrick.”

  I watched her lips form every syllable of my name. It came out as quiet breath, a welcome solace that I bathed myself in, and I lifted my gaze from her pussy to look her in the eyes as I came, eyes I wanted her to remember for the rest of her life. I wanted to haunt her dreams. I wanted to be the ghost she woke up to in her room.

  Our lust would be her new stalker, an obsession she’d never be able to get rid of.

  “Lucy,” I said her name on a weak grunt as I came, jets of powerful seed hit against her pussy, coating it, claiming it as mine. She was mine. No matter how much I fought it or how much she despised it.

  She was mine.

  My clothes stuck to me from the sweat, and when I looked down and saw how I marked her, I wanted to gather my come on my fingers and shove them into that winking hole that only one man had ever felt before.

  A voice in the back of my head said I’d be the last to feel her and that gave me pleasure that my orgasm didn’t—it sated me. I was never sated after sex.

  Thick streams of my come dripped from her. Both of us shook, trying to catch our breaths and calm our racing hearts. Fuck, I’d never had an experience like that before.

  “Get off me,” she said, ripping her wrists from my hand that still locked her arms above her head. Lucy pushed against me, and her legs dropped from my waist, my come inching down her thighs. Her chin wobbled, and her eyes swam with unshed tears. “Don’t ever touch me again.” Her shoulder rammed into me as she searched for her panties, but I had them in my pocket. She’d never get them back. “This will never happen again. Ever.” And when she glared at me, her shoulders back, and resolve stoning her face, I knew she was serious.

  But lust this intense could never be ignored for too long. It always exploded.

  We were two sticks of fused dynamite waiting to go off. The final boom would be dangerous, that much I knew. And damn it, I knew it would be our hearts that were involved no matter how much we tried to keep them out of it
.

  Neither of us wanted love, for different reasons.

  The pull was too strong to deny though.

  We’d go off eventually.

  I just hoped neither of us were beyond repair when it happened.

  Chapter Nine

  Lucy

  I did well ignoring Godrick for the next five days. I was his assistant, but most of everything could be done over email. I never went into his office. I never got close to him again; I knew better. I learned from last time. His moods were unpredictable. The man I met on Tuesday was kind and approachable, still in control, but he made me comfortable.

  The man that gave me the best orgasm of my life in his office was dominating, controlling, and a little scary. The intensity when he was sexually aroused was almost more than I could handle. I had to go home after our little snafu because he had torn my underwear off, and his come had been sticking to me like glue, drying against my thighs. I cried, but it wasn’t because I felt ashamed or used, I actually felt neither of those things.

  I cried because it was the best sexual experience of my life and one that I could never relive unless it was in my dreams.

  “Lucy?” My brother’s voice brought me out of the thoughts that seemed to play over and over again like an obsessive thought.

  I was so damn glad it was the weekend. I didn’t have to worry about seeing Godrick until Monday. “Yeah, Logan?” I glanced up from the tv show I pretended to watch.

  “I got called into work. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “On the weekend? That isn’t normal, right?” I pulled the wool blanket against my chest, burying into the softness that smelled of lavender and cotton.

  He shook his head and turned his baseball cap backwards. He looked so tired. Logan had worked sixty hours this week already and now the weekend? I wondered if Godrick was doing this on purpose, making my brother work harder than the others to make me feel guilty. “No, it isn’t, but the building we are working on is one of the largest Stoneridge has ever built. We have to be there to get the foundation going, once that is done, the framework won’t be—”

  I held up my hand to stop him from continuing with his construction terminology. “Say no more because I won’t understand anything after the word foundation.”

  He chuckled. “It isn’t hard, I promise.”

  “Not yet,” Maria said from behind Logan, her fingers wrapping around his shoulders. I only saw her pointed nails that reminded me of stiletto heels, painted black. They were always black.

  Logan straightened his back, and I watched his eyes flutter shut from her touch. He enjoyed it. “Maria,” he greeted, the natural tone in his voice deeper.

  “You’ve gotten more muscle. Must be from all that hard work, Logan. You look good.”

  Her flirting made my stomach turn. He was my brother. Someone lusting after him in front of me made me want to gag.

  Logan reached up and grabbed her hand, stroking his thumb over the small knuckles and tugged it free. “Speaking of working hard, I need to go.”

  “Think of me,” she clutched her hand to her chest and looked up at him with dreamy eyes that were full of hearts again.

  Logan gave her the signature smirk that made most girls melt into a puddle. He flashed his handsome smile and dimples on his cheek and shot her a wink. “Maybe.”

  “You know how to play with a girl’s heart, Red−Hot. It ain’t right, you know.” Maria pouted, plopping on the couch with her arms and legs crossed.

  “I’m not trying to play with something that precious, Maria.”

  They spoke as if I wasn’t here. I should go into my room and shut the door to leave them alone, but Logan grabbed his tool belt off the hook, giving Maria a longing look that would make any other woman catch fire, but it seemed like Maria was a phoenix, able to take the burn.

  The front door shut, and Maria put her arm over her face and fanned herself with her other hand. “That man is going to be the death of me.”

  “God, I hope so. It would put me out of my misery.” I joked, throwing a pillow at the side of her face.

  “Hell, put me out of my misery. The man is killing me. I swear that’s what he wants. Logan is too damn hot for his own good.”

  “If you like that sort of thing.”

  “You mean the hot sort of thing? Yeah, sounds awful, speaking of hot, what is happening with your boss?”

  A flash of me against the wall of Godrick’s office emerged to the front of my mind. If I thought hard enough, I could still feel his hands against my body, his thumb pressed against my clit, and his black eyes searing me with his desire.

  He showed me no mercy.

  My hand touched my neck when the haunted tendrils of his fingers grip my neck.

  “I know that look! Come with me to work and tell me about it.” Maria lifted a leg up onto the couch and tucked it under her. Her hair, which was usually straight, waved in a hot mess that made her look overly sexy. Like Godrick, no woman should be so pretty. It was so unfair. She had no makeup on except mascara, and her long lashes touched her brows, her blue eyes deep like sapphires against the pale light of the living room.

  “I am not going to a tattoo studio.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re moping. I don’t know why, but I want to know. That’s what friends are for.” Maria got up and tugged on my arm, and I fell limp, pretending I was unconscious. “Oh, stop being so dramatic.”

  I ignored her, my mouth falling open as I swayed from side to side from her efforts of trying to get me up.

  “You are unbelievable,” she held back a laugh and threw my arm down.

  I opened one eye and grinned, tossed the blanket off me and stretched. “Fine. I’ll go, but you have to feed me first.”

  “Only if you tell me what happened between you and your boss. I know something did because every time I mention him, your cheeks get all red, and your eyes get all glazy like a donut.”

  “They do not!” No, they did. They definitely did. I also hadn’t told Maria about my stalker encounter at Poppies. She was such a good friend, and I gave her nothing in return. Getting close to people was something that scared the hell out of me now. Nothing but pain and disappointment followed after I allowed someone in my life. I slid my flip−flops on and swallowed, afraid to tell her the truth about the crazy that followed me everywhere.

  What if she thought I was too much trouble and wanted nothing to do with me?

  “I’ll come with you, but I’m not getting a tattoo.” I pointed at her as I grabbed my purse.

  “We’ll see.”

  I scoffed and tapped my foot on the floor. “I’m not.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” she said, opening the door with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Oh, what’s this?”

  “What?” I tried to look around her to see what she was talking about, but the light from the hallway was too bright, and from the angle I was at, I couldn’t see over her shoulders.

  “You have a gift.”

  The blood drained from my face when she held a vase of pink peonies and a card with my name written in chicken scratch on the front of the plain white envelope. I knew it wasn’t from Godrick. Godrick had elegant, yet masculine handwriting. He wrote in all caps lock, in small block letters that were all the same size.

  “Is this from your boss? Wow, these are so pretty.”

  “It isn’t from him. Oh god,” my stomach turned when I plucked the card from the bouquet of flowers. My hands shook. The handwriting was Brian’s. I thought he was in jail. How did he send this to me?

  The clunk of the vase against the counter had me jumping, and the card fell from my hand and onto the floor. Maria gave me a funny look as she picked up the card. “Lucy, what’s going on? You’re as white as a sheet. Did Godrick do something to you?”

  I shook my head and took the card back from her again. “I…no. Godrick has been great.”

  She smirked. “So something is happening with him because you just called him by his first name.”

  �
��No.” I nodded. “I mean, no.” Then I shook my head to not contradict myself. I couldn’t think straight. I held an envelope that scared the shit out of me. Who knew what it held? Nothing surprises me anymore with Brian. I truly believed he would go to any extent to get to me. “This is from Brian.”

  “Who is Brian? You’ve never talked about him before.” Maria pulled out a chair from the dining room and turned it backwards. She sat on it and laid her arms on the top of the antique wood. “I have a feeling this card isn’t a good thing. Should we be worried?”

  “We?” I asked, lifting my eyes from weight in my hands to look at Maria.

  “Um, yeah, we. Like I’m going to leave my best girl alone if there is someone scaring her. Who is Brian?”

  “He’s my ex−boyfriend.” I rubbed my forehead with my fingers and tried to calm my panic by taking deep breaths.

  “Ah, the typical ex that can’t let go. He is trying to win you back? Look at you, having all the men worship your feet. I need to take note.”

  “No,” I whispered. I wanted nothing to do with Brian for as long as I lived. The only person that knew everything about this situation was Logan because he was there for all of it. No one knew all the details, not even Godrick when he asked. “Not exactly. You asked me when we first met why I moved here, and I didn’t tell you the entire truth.” My eyes watered, and my back hit the edge of the counter when I fell backward, my legs unable to keep me up by themselves, tired from constantly running from Brian. “Brian is my ex. We dated for ten years, but then I walked in on him cheating on me.” I have told the story one too many times. It was getting old. “Anyway, he wouldn’t leave me alone. He broke into the house, and Logan was home; that was when I put a restraining order against him.”

  “Oh my god, how does that make sense? You just moved here.”

  “I went to Poppies the other night, and he was there.”

  She was in front of me so fast; I barely saw her leave the chair. “What?”

  “He followed me to New York City, Maria. He got handsy with me at Poppies, Godrick was there, and Logan got a few good punches in. I thought he was in jail. Godrick’s friend said he was going to make sure he stayed in jail, so if he is in a cell, why the hell am I getting gifts?” I felt so lost. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I knew I had to call the cops and let them know I received gifts, but there’s nothing they could do about it, not until he got physical unfortunately. It was a shame that law enforcement had to wait because what if it was too late? What if no one could save me at that point?