Boss Me Please

by Amy Brent

  I nodded and ran a hand through my hair. She was right. I didn’t usually talk about anything, and I had broken her heart countless times, but this time was different. I was different. She had to see that.

  “I know. But I’m trying to change that.”

  Despite the honesty in my voice, Grace scoffed as she stumbled her way towards her kitchen. With disdain in her voice, she mumbled, “Yeah, right. Liar liar, expensive pants on fire.”

  Frustrated, I stood in the doorway and watched as she opened the fridge and retrieved yet another bottle of wine. Although I had promised myself I would wait for an invitation to go inside as to not force my way back into her life, I wasn’t about to stand by and watch her drink more. This wasn’t her and, because I loved her, I had to bring her back to her normal self.

  Stepping inside her apartment, I slammed the door shut and stalked towards the kitchen. Moving at an uncharacteristic slow pace, Grace turned her face to look at me and frowned.

  “I didn’t invite you inside,” she protested, but I just ignored her and continued to walk until I stood right in front of her. Then, she ordered, “Go away.”

  “I’m not going away until you’ve sobered up,” I said with my jaw set and a raised brow as I took the bottle from her hands.

  The sweetness that had been on her face when she first saw me, completely disappeared. It morphed into an angry mask that made the slap I had envisioned become a real possibility.

  “Give that back. It’s mine!” Grace shrieked as she tried to retrieve the bottle from my hands.

  Rolling my eyes, I took advantage of our significant height difference and raised my arm, so the bottle was towering over both our heads and completely out of her reach. Although necessary, that action was ridiculous and made her even angrier.

  Like a wild animal, Grace clawed at my arm as she screamed unintelligible things at me and tried to retrieve her wine. Her crazy behavior didn’t scare me, and I didn’t cave. I held the bottle up and her gaze sternly.

  “Stop!” I commanded, and by some miracle, she obeyed. After a deep breath, I added, “I understand wanting to drink your problems into oblivion, but we both know this won’t help you. Drinking only makes you nasty and stupid.”

  Grace pulled in a long breath through her nose. “Are you seriously trying to give me a lecture on drinking?”

  “Yes, I am,” I said, frustrated. “Do you really want to be like me?”

  There was a long stretch of silence between us. Then, Grace sighed and looked down; the anger and fire she had in her eyes were replaced by hurt. “Is it that bad for you to imagine me as your equal?”

  Although I knew her question had everything to do with my unfortunate—and untrue—comment about Hawthorne being her superior back in my office, and though I wanted to erase the hurt my words had caused her, I couldn’t.

  “Yes, Grace,” I said with vigor as I set the wine bottle down on the counter.

  Tears sprung to her eyes, and before I could say anything else, she blurted out, “Is that why you came all the way to Boston, Fletcher? To hurt and humiliate me even more?”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s not what I’m doing at all.” I ran a hand through my hair to calm myself down and tried to impart as much emotion and sincerity into my words as possible. “It is awful for me to even imagine you as my equal because that would make you less than you are.”

  As if she couldn’t believe her ears, Grace tilted her head and held my gaze. As our eyes locked, I could see that, for whatever reason, the fog in her mind was lifting. I took advantage of that and said what I needed to say.

  “What I said back in my office was bullshit,” I started, commanding her full attention. “People like Hawthorne and I have money, but that’s all we got. We’re rotten inside, Grace. Empty. But you . . . Oh, baby, you’re the real deal. There’s kindness and good and life in you, and that makes you our better in every single way that matters.”

  She stood perfectly still, as I took a step in her direction. Her chest moved up and down with her deep breaths as her tearful eyes looked at me in awe. It took every ounce of strength I had not to touch her the way I wanted, but I had more to say before I even tried to be that bold.

  “As for what I came here to say, here it goes.” In a steady tone, I started my practiced speech. “I’ve spent my whole life working so hard because I always thought that I was never enough. I thought I had to be more, look like more, act like more so society would accept me, which is why I fought so hard against my feelings and pushed you away.

  “However, after I lost you, a good friend pointed out that my work was all I ever needed to fit in and that being miserable just because of what people think is the most stupid thing on Earth. And she was absolutely right.” With a deep breath and a smile, I continued, “I don’t want to fit in a world where you don’t belong. I don’t want to be a part of a society where you’re not welcome, and I don’t want to associate with people who think that having money is more important than having a soul.

  “You make me a better man, and thought it’s selfish and unfair, I want you to come home with me and love me and make me the richest man alive.”

  Once my speech was over, I stood in front of Grace hoping and praying that she would throw herself into my arms and kiss me, but she didn’t. She only stared at me for what felt like an eternity.

  “I have a boyfriend, Fletcher. He’s a good man and he loves me,” she said in a matter of fact tone.

  I know, and it’s my fault, I thought as anger filled every cell of my body. I tried to stay calm and think of something to say that didn’t make me sound like an asshole.

  “I know, that,” I started with my eyes locked with hers and a hand buried in my hair. “Harrington probably deserves you a lot more than I do—just take a look at all these damn flowers.”

  She chuckled a little, and so did I. Then, I straightened my face again and continued in my most honest tone. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you love him and that you’re happy with him, I promise I’ll leave you alone, and you won’t ever have to see me again. But if you don’t love him, Grace, if you love me as I love you, then you should choose me and do what’s right for all of us.”

  There was fear and hesitation in Grace’s eyes, and it scared the living crap out of me, but I stayed firm. I knew she didn’t love Harrington and would make the right choice.

  After yet another lifetime of silent staring, she sighed. “You’ve hurt me so many times, how can I trust you?”

  “I don’t really know,” I replied honestly. “I think you just decide to and hope for the best. However, I promise you with all my heart that if you give me one more chance, I’ll do everything I can to assure you’ll never regret your decision.”

  Deep in thought, Grace nodded. The tiniest hint of a smile curled up on her lips. “So you love me, hmm?”

  “I do,” I admitted as I took one more step closer to her and reached out to hold her hand. “The question is, do you love me?”

  With my heart pounding, I watched as Grace inhaled a deep breath. When she exhaled, her lips spread in a reluctant smile and she shrugged. “Call me stupid, but yeah, I do.”

  Although I had promised myself to do everything she asked me to do, I didn’t call her stupid. I would never do that or anything demeaning to her ever again. What I did instead, was kiss her with every ounce of love and devotion I held within me.

  I knew it was wrong since she hadn’t broken up with Harrington yet, but honestly, I didn’t care. She was mine, and he would know that soon enough. The whole world would, to be honest.

  Epilogue: Grace

  After a whole year of dating and living together, I had to admit that being Fletcher Cox’s girlfriend was no easy task. He was just as demanding as his lifestyle and the press was always hovering. However, despite all of that, being loved by Fletcher was so amazing and intense that I absolutely adored every single minute of it.

  Well, almost every minute. To be honest,
I wasn’t too crazy about the last half hour.

  Luckily, my very efficient staff had all the events my new party planning company had booked for the weekend under control which allowed me to leave the office earlier than usual. We had a birthday party of one of Fletcher’s high and mighty friends later that night, and I used that as my excuse. However, in all honesty, I had more personal matters to tend to.

  The timer on my phone beeped letting me know that the last of the five pregnancy tests I had purchased on my way to my and Fletcher’s penthouse apartment was done. With a deep breath that didn’t calm my nervous heart at all, I picked up the plastic device and looked at the tiny screen.

  Pregnant, it said, and I groaned. Again.

  Shaking, I dropped the test on top of the vanity—where the other four peed on sticks were—and closed my eyes.

  Although I’ve always wanted a family and loved Fletcher with all my heart, we had never discussed the subject, and I was terrified of what his reaction would be. An unplanned pregnancy out of wedlock wasn’t the kind of things that bode well with the press, and though he was a lot better about not caring what people thought, a part of me was still afraid he would leave me for someone who was a better fit to his world.

  Tears prickled my eyes, but before they had a chance to fall down my face, I heard Fletcher’s voice outside the bathroom door. “Gracie, are you here?”

  My heart melted as it usually did at the nickname. It was ridiculous how a single word could make my heart flutter and my cheeks ache from smiling too much. No one in the world had ever had that power over me, only Fletcher.

  “Yeah, just a sec,” I cried out as I stuffed the tests inside the pharmacy’s paper bag and tossed a towel over it.

  Once the evidence of my state was properly tucked out of sight, I took a deep breath and opened the door. Fletcher was standing next to our king size bed looking gorgeous as ever in his charcoal gray suit. Even in his late-forties, he didn’t look a day over thirty.

  “There you are,” Fletcher said with the broadest grin as he walked toward me and folded his arms around my waist. He pulled me closer to his body and kissed me in the passionate way he usually did after a long day of work. Once he pulled back from my mouth, he sighed. “I’ve missed you today.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You say that every day.”

  “Because it’s true every day,” he assured me with a quick peck to the tip of my nose.

  Although I knew I should share my news with him as soon as possible, my fear prevented me. We were happy, and I didn’t want to risk it. Not now. Not ever. Therefore, I just asked about his day instead.

  Releasing his hold on me, Fletcher started undressing as he told me about his meetings and the buzzings of the office. As happy as I was with my growing business, there was a part of me that still missed working at his company. I loved it there, and because he knew it, Fletcher always did his best to keep me involved and included. It was yet another sweet trait of him for me to love—and fear to lose.

  Gloriously naked, he came to a stop right in front of me. “Have you showered yet?”

  The suggestive tone in Fletcher’s voice made wetness pool between my thighs and excitement grow hot in my belly. “I have not.”

  “Well, then follow me, and I’ll scrub your back,” he said innocently as he swayed his firm butt toward the bathroom

  Chuckling at his tone, I quickly removed my dress and followed him; my worries momentarily forgotten. When I reentered the bathroom, Fletcher was already under the steaming shower. I quickly joined him.

  It was mindboggling to me how even after a whole year of seeing me naked and making love every single day Fletcher still looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. Today, however, that lustful light in his eyes was even more pronounced.

  As soon as I stepped underneath the spray of the shower, Fletcher’s hands were on me. Slowly, his fingers trailed up the lines of my hips, waist, and ribs until they reached my chest. I closed my eyes as his palms cupped my breasts and his fingers teased my sensitive nipples.

  “They feel bigger,” Fletcher whispered making me open my eyes to look at him. Thoughts about the five positive pee sticks tucked underneath the towel filled my mind, but they were quickly washed away by the adoring look on my boyfriend’s face and his hardness poking me in the belly. “I like it,” he added after a second.

  “Good, I’ll keep them like that.”

  Unaware of the hidden meaning in my words, Fletcher laughed and thanked me as his mouth traveled down my neck to kiss each of my nipples. Knowing exactly what I liked, he alternated between nibbling and circling his tongue around each hardened nipple until I was clawing my nails down his back and begging for more.

  Always considerate, Fletcher quickly responded to my pleading by lowering one of his hands to the space between my legs. In perfect synchrony with the movements of his tongue, he worked my center, massaging my clit with his thumb while his index and middle finger slowly pushed their way inside of me.

  Instinctively, my right hand reached to grab his cock. He was thick and hard in my palm, just as I liked it. My mouth watered, dying for a taste, but I was enjoying the pleasure he was bringing me way too much to drop to my knees. I’d have plenty of chances later, I was sure of it.

  Together, we pleasured each other until our combined moans filled the bathroom like a symphony of love and desire. Pleasure started to build within me until it was all I could feel and all I could think about. Knowing my body even better than I did, Fletcher sped up his pace, working his mouth and fingers until I w.as crying out his name with the force of my release.

  As I rode out my orgasm, Fletcher pulled his fingers out of me and brought both hands to my butt. He whispered words of love and devotion as his palms squeezed my cheeks and then slid his palms down the back of my thighs.

  Before I was fully aware of what was happening, my back was pressed against the wall, Fletcher was balancing my weight on his hands, and his cock was positioned at my opening. His mouth collided with mine in a kiss that was powerful and hotter than hell.

  My heart pounded, my breath hitched and my mouth parted with delight as Fletcher slowly pushed himself inside of me. The fullness was familiar and amazing, and the way he held my gaze told me I felt just as good to him as he did to me.

  At that moment, as his hips started moving against mine and our bodies and souls melted into one single being, the fear I felt over how my pregnancy would affect us melted away. It was weird to describe, but it was as if I could tell that this little life growing inside of me would fill us with the same deep kind of love that had created it. That knowledge made me relax and enjoy each second, each thrust, each ounce of pleasure that the love of my life coaxed out of me.

  “I love you, Fletcher Cox,” I moaned as my second orgasm started to build inside of me. “I’ll love you forever.”

  My strained words made his lips part into a grin that added a beautiful layer of love and happiness to his ecstasy. He kissed me with love and passion as his hips took a life of their own and moved against mine with a ferocity I had never experienced before.

  Within seconds, we were both crying out for God, and each other’s names as our bodies dangled on the edge of the delicious precipice of pleasure. I dug my nails into the skin on Fletcher’s broad back and started to shiver as my body buzzed and tingled with my exploding orgasm.

  “Yes, baby. Come for me,” he said in between groans. “Come with me, my love—my Gracie.”

  And I did. I came, and so did he, and for a moment, all that existed was him and me and pleasure, and the world was the most perfect place because of it.

  Once my feet were back on the ground and our bodies relaxed from our joined orgasm, Fletcher and I talked and focused on the actual washing part of our shower. Then, when we turned off the water and went to dry ourselves, instead of reaching for one of the towels in the rack, Fletcher grabbed the one on top of the vanity—the one covering my pee sticks.

/>   “What’s this?” he asked with his brows pulled together in curiosity as he poked the paper bag.

  My heart jumped to my mouth as I tried to find the words to tell him I was pregnant, but I literally had no words. The apparent panic on my face caused Fletcher’s to frown with worry. He held my gaze as he picked up the bag.

  All the love and certainty I had felt just minutes before melted away. The pain and rejection that had marked so many years of our relationship came back to my heart and mind.

  “I’m–” I forced the words out of my mouth.

  However, before I could finish the sentence, Fletcher looked inside the bag and added, “Pregnant. You’re pregnant.”

  His reaction was impossible to decipher, and it scared me. It scared me so damn much.

  “I was going to tell you,” I started as he continued to stare at the plastic device. “I just didn’t know how. We’ve never talked about kids, so I’m not sure if you want them or not. Also, things are so good between us, we’re so happy, I didn’t want to screw them up.”

  The confusion on his face grew as he lifted his eyes from the test to my eyes. “Why would a baby screw things up?”

  Feeling slightly stupid now, I shrugged. “We’re not married, and though I do okay for myself, I’m not rich. People will talk. They’ll call me a gold digger and you a fool.”

  Fletcher looked at me like I was batshit crazy, and maybe I was for caring about dumb things like that when I knew he loved me so much. However, despite his look, my heart was still as tense as my shoulders, and my body was tingling with fear—of losing him, of being a mother, of screwing everything up.

  I wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, my reactions made me Fletcher laugh. It wasn’t a mere chuckle or a cackle. It was that full-on roar of laughter that brings tears to your eyes and make your stomach hurt.

  My hormonal body didn’t quite appreciate his reaction and enjoyed even less when he wrapped himself in a towel and walked out of the bedroom. Outraged and with tears in my eyes, I rolled myself in a towel and followed Fletcher into our bedroom to give him a piece of my mind.