by Misti Murphy
And I can’t believe I just called my boss a tosser. Might as well have thrown wanker at him. Or twatwaffle.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”
“I know.” I sigh. This isn’t a business merger. It’s far more complex, and not in James’s wheelhouse. Dating isn’t something he has a knack for. “You’re wrong, though. I haven’t even thought about marriage and babies. I can barely juggle my own life.”
“Then why did you look at that poor kid like you wanted to devour him?”
“I did not,” I respond. The guy’s cute, but he’s not jaw-droppingly gorgeous or anything. I can’t believe James would think I would be so crass around a colleague. Unless it’s him. Can’t quite seem to help ogling the boss.
“You did,” he says, his voice low and serious. “Because yesterday morning, that’s how you looked at me.”
“Are you jealous?” I whisper. Not sure what happened to my voice. It vanished along with my ability to breathe, and any chance of my borrowed underwear staying dry. I would never have set out to make him jealous. It’s an unintentional side effect of my inability to focus on anything other than him. But gosh darn, if he’s getting green-eyed about this, it has to mean something.
My ovaries just about jump up and do the Hokey Pokey.
“No, I’m not jealous.” He pulls me closer so that I’m standing right between his legs, and I have to be mindful not to bump the injured one.
“Oh.”
“It would be wrong of me to be jealous of some kid. Especially one who works for me.” He skims his hand up the back of my thigh and under my skirt to squeeze my ass.
His possessiveness thrills me. “Well, if you were, I would tell you that you have nothing to be jealous about.”
“But I’m not jealous, so it’s a moot point.” His fingers leave my ass, trail along the inside crease of my thigh. I want them higher, want them to slide inside his cotton boxer briefs and touch me like I’ve fantasized about a million times before.
“If you say so.” I glance in the direction of the front door, though I have no intention of moving until he lets me go. “Perhaps I should go into the—”
“I was furious that I couldn’t take care of you yesterday, but I’m going to make up for that now.” He drops his hand to his lap, presses on the bulge in his pants as though it’s uncomfortable for him. His voice is husky, edged with an authority he doesn’t normally use with me. “Now, you’re going to have to take off those boxer briefs for me.”
I’ve watched interns scurry to do his bidding, I’ve seen deals fall into place because James commands a room, but I’ve never felt such an urgent need to do what he tells me to do. Perhaps the full effect has been lost on me because I’ve made my career out of pre-empting his needs. Hiking up my skirt, I bunch the white cotton in my hands and drag them down until I can step out of them. Somehow, I manage not to get tangled up. “I wasn’t having thoughts about Alex.”
“Come here.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “Step up on the couch.”
“Are you crazy?” I say on a breath. The desire in his gaze sucks all the air out of my lungs. I want this. I want this more than air.
“Just do it.”
I step out of my heels and climb onto the couch so that my feet are beside his knees. He tugs me forward, and I have to put a hand on the back of the couch to keep my balance.
“That’s it,” he says, his fingers tracing my bare seam.
I want to scream, the pleasure is so intense and so deliberate. He flicks his gaze to my face, his eyes hooded heavily. “Come closer. I need you right in front of my face.”
I could hyperventilate. His words are making it hard to keep from panting. I shift until I’m right in front of his face.
He licks his lips and slides his hand up the side of my leg and around to my ass. “Wider.”
I step out. “Better?”
“Better.” He brushes his lips against my mound, a feather-soft touch.
I squeeze the pillowed top of the sofa in my trembling hand. Please, legs don’t give way. Oh! That first kiss turns into another as his mouth wanders lower and lower. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, try to remember to breathe. Concentrate on each rise of my chest as his fingers move between my legs, leisurely, gently, seeking out my wetness and spreading it, massaging it into my swollen flesh.
I swallow roughly and whimper. This isn’t real. Can’t be real. One of my calves shakes. I swear any second it will cramp, but I’m not missing a moment of this. My eyes slip shut as pleasure wiggles up my spine; my insides tighten.
James grips my ass harder when he finds my clit. Thank goodness, because I almost fall from this unwise perch above him. The last thing I want to do is hurt him while he uses small ,sweet circles to toy with me. I find the top of his head and brace myself by threading my fingers through his hair while I balance my weight against the couch instead. Staples. The Burdack files. Still have to reschedule that meeting. Can’t make this last. Feels too good.
“Going to make you come, Supergirl.” James groans, his breath scorching my sensitive bits. Then he sticks out his tongue and licks the length of my slit, and I know he’s right. No amount of stationery or scheduling is going to save me while he eats me up. That tongue that normally gives me orders is giving me something else instead. I lift my face to the ceiling, panting through dry lips while he licks and sucks and pushes me to climax right there on the couch in his living room. It’s better than every fantasy I’ve ever had about our doing it on my desk, or his office, or in the photocopier room, or even in his bed. It rips through me, tearing apart any chance I have of pretending I don’t have it bad for my boss. I can’t hide it now, even if I wanted to.
“Myra, we should—”
“Everyone decent in here?” Garrett hollers and the front door bangs closed.
“Oh bollocks.” I scramble to climb down from the couch.
“Christ,” James says under his breath. “Damn it, Garrett.”
I manage to scoop my…er, James’s panties from the floor before Simon prowls into the living room. I search for somewhere to hide them.
“Here.” James holds out a hand for me to drop them into, which he then shoves into his pocket.
Phew.
Garrett strolls into the room on the heels of the cat.
“You’re early,” James snaps.
“And you’re grumpy. Myra, he’s not being too much of a pain, is he?” Garrett glances around the room. “You might want to open a window. There’s a smell. I can’t pick it.” His brows draw down in that concentrated manner of someone who can’t fathom why the answer eludes them, and then he slaps his thigh and snorts. “Never mind. I’m probably imagining it.”
“I have a conference call in half an hour,” James says.
“That’s fine. I won’t stay too long.” Garrett sits in one of the armchairs.
James’s cell rings. “It’s the office. Give me a second.”
“Sure.” Garrett nods, and then looks at me with a curious expression while James answers the phone. Can he tell what just happened in here? Oh, I suppose that’s not entirely farfetched when James is still bulging out the zip of his slacks. Crap.
James mutes the call. “Alex made record time apparently. How long until you’ll be ready to go in?”
“N-now.” I slip into my heels, and run my hands over my skirt. Nothing will get the creases out now. Although I best run upstairs and find another pair of his briefs to wear.
“Thanks.” His gaze lingers on me for a moment before he relays the information to Barb.
“I’ll see you later.” I pick up my bag. What was he going to say before Garrett interrupted us? That we should talk about what’s happening between us? Or that, again, it shouldn’t have happened? “If you need me for anything...”
“How about I worry about me for this afternoon. You worry about that intern.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.” I’m going to worry about J
ames anyway. About what he was going to say.
“I’ll call if I need you.”
“I’ll just...” I take a few steps out of the room. “James, about before. Um, thanks.”
His eyes widen and he goes entirely still.
Garrett makes a weird sound in his throat.
“Thanks for, uh, helping me solve that issue. The one with the new assistant.”
James drops his gaze to his phone. He jabs the screen in an uncoordinated manner and coughs. “Yep. No problem.”
“I better...” I glance in the direction of the front door. I can’t believe I just thanked my boss for giving me head. It’s just so awkward with Garrett sitting there. Maybe I should move to London anyway since I will never live this down.
“Yep. I’ll see you when you get back.”
I hurry for the door.
Chapter Ten
JAMES
“So you finally did the deed with Myra, huh?”
My head snaps around. “W-what?”
Garrett chuckles and slaps his hands onto his thighs. “Can’t say I blame you, although she never did anything for me, personally. I mean, I remember thinking she was hot when I first met her, but she wasn’t really my type.”
“That’s got to be a first for you. Until you met Erin, I was under the impression that if she had breasts and a hole, you were interested.”
“Shows what you know. Myra’s the staying kind, and back then, I shied away from that type.”
The staying kind? Yeah, well, she’s not anymore, apparently. I’m going to lose her in a week and a half. Which I should be grateful for, given the fact we apparently can’t keep our paws off each other. Except I’m pretty sure when she leaves the company, she’ll leave me too.
“So, how was it?” Garrett asks, breaking across my thoughts.
“Even if anything happened, I wouldn’t tell you about it.” I lift my chin and try to pull my dignity around myself like a cloak that will protect me against my brother’s prodding. My sex life—or whatever the hell is going on between Myra and me—is none of his business. And even if I were inclined to share personal information with my brother, I wouldn’t know what to say.
Because I have no freaking idea what happened. I mean, I do, don’t get me wrong. Myra’s glorious, pink, wet pussy hovering over my face has got to be the greatest image I’ve ever seen. The most delicious delicacy I’ve ever tasted. Her orgasm the greatest accomplishment I’ve ever achieved.
But what does it mean?
What are we supposed to say to each other when she returns to the house? How do we talk about this, when I don’t even know what this is?
Did we just become fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? An office romance? Fling, more likely. God knows she wouldn’t be interested in anything more than that, not with me. Garrett’s right. She expects to date a perfect guy, to fall in love with him, to marry him and have perfect babies with him, and I am fully aware of how unfailingly imperfect I am.
I wouldn’t make the short list, if she even has one. I doubt I’d be on any list, no matter how long it was. So whatever the hell happened between us—this sensual, oral relationship we’ve developed—it’s only temporary. Will last only as long as she’s still in my employ. The moment her two weeks is up, she will move on, leaving my personal and professional life.
Which is the way it should be, and exactly what I don’t want.
Garrett peers at the window where Simon is perched, watching us, her tail swishing back and forth against the wall below. “When did you adopt a cat? I thought you hated pets.”
“I do. I didn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
Shaking my head, I say, “It snuck into the house the other day while Myra was grilling, and I haven’t been able to convince it to leave.”
Garrett stands and stalks to the cat, lifting it into his arms and heading for the door. “All you do is toss it out on the—”
“Stop!”
He freezes and turns to arch his brows. I let out a huff. “Don’t throw it out the front door, for God’s sake. It might get hit by a car.”
With the cat curled into the crook of his elbow, he returns to the living room and drops into the recliner. “Probably easier to get rid of it if you actually set it free. In fact, I strongly encourage you to work on keeping her instead.”
“The cat?”
He shakes his head and strokes the feline’s head. “Not talking about the cat.”
Then what the hell is he talking about?
“I take it you didn’t bang her. I could’ve sworn I smelled the musk of a woman’s arousal.”
Gritting my teeth, I say, “No, I didn’t, if you must know.”
“And it hasn’t occurred to you that maybe if you do, she won’t leave?”
“You think if I seduce my admin, she’ll decide to stay on? You must have a thing for women’s romance novels. Because I live in the real world, and I can tell you that isn’t how things are supposed to work.” I’m her boss. We shouldn’t carry on any sort of relationship except a professional one. And while Myra may very well be willing to sleep with me—if the intensity of that orgasm I just gave her is any indication—I am not stupid enough to believe for one second that sex is what it will take to convince her to stay. And I shouldn’t want it to be.
“Never read a romance book, but I know plenty about women in general. Whatever is or is not going on between you two has the potential to be a gigantic train wreck unless you finally get your head out of the sand and pay attention to something other than your company.”
“As if I’d listen to advice from you.” I curl my lip into a sneer. Garrett and I have never, ever seen eye to eye when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex. Even if his suggestion is exactly what every woman I’ve ever dated has told me.
He stands and claps a hand onto my shoulder. “Anyway, I need a favor. And trust me, if I could ask anyone else, I would.”
“Why can’t you?” If he said it like that, I probably don’t want to do it.
He lifts his hand and starts flipping up his fingers, one by one. “Our nanny had to go to Indianapolis to visit her grandmother, who’s in the hospital. Chloe and Paynt are in Paris. Dad’s come down with a cold or something, and I don’t want to expose Abby. I even asked Erin’s annoying best friend, but he has plans tonight. Of course he does. How the fuck that guy manages to hook up with women, I’ll never understand. It’s even more baffling than you possibly getting laid. At least you can afford to pay for dinner first. Danny doesn’t have two pennies—”
“Can we get to the favor now?”
“Erin’s favorite band is Imagine Dragons. They’re in town tonight, and I scored front row tickets. But we don’t have a babysitter for Abby.”
“Are you asking me to babysit your daughter? Me?”
“I told you, you were last on my list. But I’m out of options, and I’m not about to leave her with a stranger from some online service.”
“I’m a little annoyed that I’m last on your list.”
“Are you?”
“Christ, I’m not an ogre.”
“Sure you are. But that aside, you aren’t exactly kid-friendly. Other than family functions with Abby, have you ever had any real interaction with children?”
Garrett should talk. Before he learned he had a daughter, he was the same damn way. And look at him now; he’s such a doting dad he refuses to trust his child with anyone but family or close friends. If he can do it, I should be able to. Especially if it’s only for a few hours.
“I can handle it. Plus, Myra will be here to help.”
Garrett’s face lights up like I’ve just given him a Christmas present. If I weren’t so annoyed with him, I’d probably appreciate his obvious desire to please his fiancée.
“Thanks, man. We’ll drop her off around five. And knowing Myra will be here sets my mind at ease. That woman needs kids of her own to coddle. You should do something about that.”
“What the
hell—”
The door slams shut, marking my brother’s exit. The cat sits on its haunches next to the couch and stares at me.
“What does he expect me to do?” I ask it. Hey, it wants interaction; talking is the best I’ve got. “Am I supposed to help Myra find her perfect man?”
“Meow.”
***
Myra’s gone most of the day, although she stays in touch via text messages.
Everyone sends their sympathy and hopes you’re back on your feet soon.
Despite your directive, I set Alex up at my desk. He looks good there.
Alex is picking this up amazingly fast. I’m so impressed.
He’s charming. And funny. He’s going to help you land far more clients than I was ever able to do. You’ll really like him.
Nope. I hate him already. Especially when, hours later, Myra finally returns to the house—with him in tow.
“What’s he doing here?” I mutter, glowering at the kid as he ambles into the room behind her. Is he staring at her ass? Glancing up and catching my eye, he winks and shoves his hands into his pockets before shifting his attention back to Myra.
She’s all smiles, practically bouncing around the room as she dances over to pet Simon, who’s made herself comfortable curled up into a ball at my feet.
“Alex has some amazing ideas,” Myra says. “And he said he didn’t mind coming over to share them with you in person.”
I’ll bet he didn’t mind, although I doubt very much I’m the reason he was so eager to accompany her back to my place.
She lifts her arm, from which an oversized bag hangs. “We even stopped at my apartment so I could pick up some of the clothing I forgot.” Her cheeks flush and I grit my teeth to keep from snarling.
Didn’t she tell me earlier that I have nothing to worry about, that there is no reason to be jealous of this guy? Yet she took him to her place to sort through her underwear drawer. Does he already have a favorite? Are they making plans for when she can wear them around him, so he can take them off her?