BOSSY: A Virgin CEO Romance

by Jess Bentley

  Now I’m naked. Part of me wants him to appear at the door.

  “Jordan,” he would say. “Excuse me. I didn’t know you were changing...” His words would trail off and he’d stand there, the bulge in his dress pants getting bigger until it was clearly defined, the shaft, the head. He’d be frozen for a moment, wanting to leave, wanting to stay. Wanting to bend me over, let his cock free, and plunge every inch into me. “I’m sorry,” he’d say, “but I just can’t help myself. You’ve just gotten too sexy. And you’re going to have to obey me.”

  My hand trails down between my legs and I try not to make any sound, but I want to moan when I come in contact with my slick clit. I look at myself in my childhood mirror, painted pink above a pink vanity, and see my nipples, hard and proud, the long stretch of my stomach, the recently stripped-bare mound. That brings me back too, to see my sex so naked, like it must have been when I first met Mr. King.

  I draw my hand away and walk over to the dresser. I should get dressed. There has to be some old clothes here. I pull open the underwear drawer and find some old panties I used to wear and a bralette. The bralette is aqua-colored and lacy, and the panties are cotton with an aqua lace trim with the day of the week printed in girlish script on them. The bra goes on easily but the panties are a little small, though they’ll do. They only cover half my butt. I imagine Mr. King again.

  “Jordan...” he says, running a finger under the lace. “You’ve grown up so fast, but you’ll always be a little girl to me.” His hand snakes between the fabric and my soft skin, flirting with the cleft between my buttocks. “Have you been behaving yourself since I saw you last?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say, and my voice comes out squeaky. It always does when I’m nervous. Then I fall onto the bed, and with a few strokes of my clit, I explode into a violent orgasm, bucking on the bed.

  When I wake up, I feel a tightness on my cheeks that means I’ve been crying in my sleep again. Realizing I’m exposed on the bed, just wearing the little panties and bralette I had on, I clutch the duvet around my body. What am I doing?

  I’m filled with shame and embarrassment. Fantasies are one thing, but anyone could have come up here, including Mr. King, and seen me at any time. My cheeks burn and I cringe into the pillow.

  Jordan, you’re out of control.

  My funeral clothes are strewn around the floor. In the dim twilight, they’re just losing their definition. In a few moments, you might not be able to tell what they are, but if anyone came by the door while I was asleep they would have seen the remains of my impromptu strip show.

  I have to get out of here. Being at my parents’ house in my old room isn’t doing me any good. Everything is just too close.

  Maybe I should take the money that Kelsey apparently left me and go somewhere else. Just get out of town for a while, where nobody knows me and I don’t have to answer to anyone. That would be perfect.

  She and I used to talk about that kind of thing all the time. In her dorm at college she used to have a map over her bed, and she’d put red push pins in every place she wanted to visit, and blue ones in places she had already been to. The yellow ones meant first priority and Paris had a few yellow stuck in it, for good measure.

  If she did leave me money that is. I can’t imagine spending it on anything else. Besides, it would be a nice tribute to her to go to one of the places we’d always talked about. Why not start with her favorite?

  This thought makes me feel a little bit better, and so I grab an old pair of shorts and a Victoria’s Secret sweatshirt and toss them on to wander back downstairs. I’m not up to eating anything yet, but I could use some water. The food from the wake is still sitting like a stone in my stomach.

  The stairs creak as I walk down them, running my hand along the oak bannister. I stop for a second. Is Mr. King still here?

  I hear my dad’s voice. “Thanks for coming back, King,” he says.

  “It’s my pleasure,” he says with that low rumble. “Good to see you again, and I’m glad that we had a chance to talk about this opportunity.”

  “Me too,” my dad says thoughtfully. I hear them coming to the front hall, and while part of me wants to run back up to my room and hide, the other wants to lay eyes on Mr. King again. I wish I could hide and watch them.

  “Jordan,” my dad says. “You’re up.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I was just coming down to get a glass of water.”

  “Funerals are exhausting,” my mother says. “Were you able to nap?”

  “For a little while.” I look away. I want to memorize the way Mr. King’s body looks with his clothes stretched over his muscles. Most guys I know don’t work on their bodies, but you can see his six-pack and pecs through his shirt. The forearms are tanned, with golden hairs, and the definition of his muscles makes me want him to take off his shirt and see more. “I decided to go to Paris,” I say.

  “Paris is beautiful,” Mr. King says.

  “Sure, it’s beautiful,” my dad blusters, “but you don’t want to go there now, do you?” His eyebrows knit together. “Not after everything? You don’t know what could happen.”

  “Anything could,” my mother says sagely, nodding her head. “Now’s not the time to do such a thing. Isn’t that right?” The last statement she directs to Mr. King.

  “Paris is an incredible city,” he answers her. “I might be heading there myself for business. If she were to get in any trouble, I’d be happy to help her out.”

  “That would be great,” I squeak.

  My mother looks to me, then to Mr. King. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, as it’s a moot point. Where would you get the money, anyway?”

  “I’m getting something from my best friend in her will,” I say. I’m feeling increasingly self-conscious in my shorts and shirt. “I don’t know how much it’s going to be, but I’d like to go as a tribute to her.”

  “I don’t know about that,” my dad says.

  “It’s a lovely idea,” Mr. King says at the same time. “I should be going, in any case.” He hands me a business card, and I clutch it in my palm, its crisp edges against my skin. “In case you decide to go to France, you know where to reach me.”

  “Thank you,” I say. This time my words aren’t squeaky, just soft and breathless.

  “Anyhow, great to see you,” my dad says to him. “Nice remembering old times and looking forward to new ones.”

  “Most definitely,” he answers, his smile widening again. “And you too, Margaret,” he says to my mother. Then he looks at me. “Jordan.” The way he says my name thrills me to my core again, sending tingles through my body.

  Did he just wink at me?

  Buy or read KING here

  Also by Jess Bentley

  KING

  The one girl I can’t have.

  KING

  When I see her sprawled out on her childhood bed at her folks’ house, I have no idea that she’ll consume my thoughts until I make her mine.

  Every possible way I can.

  Her Dad might be my best friend, but that’s merely an obstacle. I’m used to getting what I want, and I’m willing to give up anything.

  When she runs I will overtake her.

  When she falls I will catch her.

  The truth is that I can't resist her... And I’ll fight the whole world to take her as my own.

  JORDAN

  King. He won’t tell me his first name, but still he is my King.

  Can I trust him? Can I trust anyone, now?

  How am I supposed to let anyone in after what she did to me?

  Lost and alone, in Paris, there’s one person who just might be able to fix this sh!t I’ve gotten myself into.

  And if not, he's the only one who can make me forget.

  The one whose mere touch gives me happiness, bliss.

  Who makes me slick with desire.

  I know I shouldn’t have him, but he is the one thing I can’t give up.

  Full-length novel. Standalone, no cliffha
nger. HEA guaranteed.

  HEAT

  I WAS FORCED TO SEDUCE HER...

  I never expected to fall in love.

  My life revolves around the gym, cars and fast women.

  I never thought I'd give any of that up--

  Until I met her.

  She's cold, independent, and bad for my family's business.

  But when I get her in bed, I find out she's the hottest thing on two legs.

  My goal is to take Janie Hall and make her so hot she can't say no.

  And I'll make one promise: I won't stop until she's knocked up and waking up next to me every day.

  With my ring on her finger.

  Heat is a sexy romance with steam. It's a full-length standalone novel with an HEA and scenes that will burn up your kindle!

  BUCKED

  WHEN LOVE IS SHOT WITH INK AND WEARS SPURS

  Chastity

  I thought I had it all: a new husband, a baby on the way, and a love that was meant to be. At least, everyone kept telling me my life was perfect.

  When it all came crashing down, I ran. As far as I could.

  Who'd have thought the one thing to save me would be bucking a cowboy called Wrecker?

  Kanen

  It's lonely at the top.

  Especially when you come from rock bottom.

  I gave up on a love that lasts a lifetime. Gold diggers, fame wh*res, I just took what I was offered.

  At least until I met the girl with the sweet curves and the kind eyes. The one who accepted me for who - and what - I am, not for the fame or the money. The one who might give me my second chance.

  Or will she run away again?

  Bucked is a steamy standalone novel with a HEA ending, a satisfying epilogue, and NO CLIFFHANGERS!

  About the Author

  Jess Bentley is a contemporary romance author who adores writing about adventurous young women--and the hot sexy men who love them. She spends her days reading and writing, tending to her flower garden and growing vegetables, as well as playing the guitar.

  Sign up for her mailing list by clicking here!

  For more information:

  AuthorJessBentley

  authorjessbentley@gmail.com