by Liz Fox
Sinful Boss
Bad Bosses, Book 4
by Liz Fox
Copyright © 2020 by Liz Fox
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Portions of this book are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Cassidy Taylor
Liz Fox
Lizfoxauthor.com
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
Epilogue
Thank You
Join Me!
Also by Liz Fox
About the Author
Chapter 1
Max
I end the call and take a deep breath before turning to my companion, Liam. “It’s so hard to find good help these days.”
“What happened?” Liam asks.
“My personal assistant just quit. Now I have to find someone new I can trust in the next few days.” I take a sip of my aged whiskey. “Such a hassle.”
“What kind of work would they do?” Liam sinks deeper into his high-back brown leather chair. Everything is top-notch at the Oakwood Club, including their drinks and their decor.
“Just help me with some personal projects. Why the interest?” I’m careful not to say too much. Even though Liam seems like a decent fellow, I know from experience that sharing too much can lead to betrayal later.
Everyone in my life wants something from me—it’s the bane of being the heir to the Hawthorne Group. At least Liam is straightforward about it, and not too overbearing. Sometime after he met his wife, Izzy, he shifted focus. He still has the drive and determination to make it as an investor, but he’s lost that edge of desperation. Like he’s okay with himself and his life, whether I help him or not.
It’s somewhat refreshing, but years of cynicism keep me from fully relaxing with anyone. Even people that could be friends, not just allies in business. When I allow myself to, I miss my brother Grayson. But he’s in Fairview, apparently happily settled down.
“My sister has some time this summer. She’s staying with my parents until she finishes school. She’s quiet, but capable. Do you want me to talk to her?”
My mind races through the possibilities and implications. It’s not a bad idea. As Liam’s sister, she’s probably relatively competent. Plus, keeping her brother in my good graces should make her suitably malleable. It’s always beneficial to have multiple avenues of leverage over your employees.
“Sure. Have her call my assist—” Damn, I need to hire someone right away. “Liam, my good man. If your sister is interested, send me a text and tell her to show up at my estate on Monday at seven-thirty a.m. sharp. I don’t suffer tardiness.”
“You don’t want to meet her first?”
“I trust you to know that you don’t want to screw with me.” Finishing my drink, I set it on the polished wood side table. I stand, give Liam a sharp nod, and then exit the building.
◆◆◆
My first sip of coffee is interrupted by the ringing of my doorbell. Who the hell is at my door first thing on a Monday morning? I set down my mug and stalk to the front door, whipping it open and ready to unleash my temper.
A gorgeous woman stands on my front porch. Not what I was expecting. She has long, black hair pulled up into a simple ponytail. Long, thick lashes frame deep blue eyes. A belt at the waist of her simple black cardigan and white shirt emphasizes her hourglass figure. Her look is completed by a deep purple pencil skirt and classy heels.
“What are you doing here?” I practically bark at the woman, discombobulated by her unexpected presence and the rush of blood thickening my cock.
“You told me to be here.” Her head tilts as she looks at me consideringly. “Did you forget about me, Mr. Hawthorne?”
I scan through my memories of the last few days, coming up blank. I would remember sending for a delectable, snow white look-alike. “You must be mistaken. You’ll need to leave immediately.” I reach back to close the door.
“Shall I tell Liam you changed your mind?”
As soon as she says Liam’s name, everything clicks into place. This must be his sister. He neglected to mention she looks like someone I’d like to lick like a spoonful of creme brulee. Not that he’d think of her that way. Dammit.
I reverse the hold on the door, swinging it open. “I might recall such a conversation with your brother, after all. You may come in.”
“Thank you.” Her heels click on the white marble floor in the foyer.
I take her back to the kitchen and, most importantly, my coffee. “Normally, my assistant would have reminded me of our appointment. That’s what I need you for.”
She nods, still not saying much. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was quietly judging me.
My eyes narrow, observing as she takes in the kitchen, including the stainless steel appliances, a professional dual gas stove and oven, two commercial quality double door refrigerators, and black marble countertops. I’m pretty sure she can tell that the only thing I’ve ever used in here is the coffee maker.
Her plump red lips purse, and my cock lengthens in response. Silk pajama pants hide nothing, even if they’re black. My impatience rises along with my arousal.
I don’t like this. I don’t like that I forgot she was coming. I don’t like my attraction to her. And I don’t like her silence.
“Today, you’ll be cleaning the bathrooms and ironing the sheets.” Giving her a once over, I make sure to disguise how much she appeals to me. “Maybe next time you will dress more appropriately.
“You should be able to find the cleaning supplies and other accoutrements in a closet somewhere. I’ll be leaving in thirty minutes and won’t be back until evening. You may clean the lavatory in my room, but leave everything else there alone.
“Tomorrow, I’ll have paperwork for you to fill out, including a non-disclosure agreement. Don’t be late.”
She turns on me, not smiling, her blue eyes flashing. “You don’t suffer tardiness.”
I clear my throat. “Quite right.”
I maneuver my way out of the kitchen so she doesn’t see my thick length urgently tenting my pajamas. I’ve never felt so out of control, especially in my own home. Tomorrow, I’ll be more prepared.
Chapter 2
Sloane
Jackass. He just left without even asking for my name. I’ve never called someone a bad name in my head immediately after meeting them. No wonder Liam sometimes calls him Max the Ass.
This is why I prefer animals. They’re never rude. If they hurt you, it’s never personal. They don’t judge you for wearing the wrong outfit for a job you never got a description for.
An animal also wouldn’t walk around like a male supermodel, exposing his tight abs, tan skin, and significant package. Not that I was looking… on purpose. But for heaven’s sake, it was impossible not to notice.
That and the fact that he didn’t get my phone number. I guess if he wants to contact me he’ll have to go through Liam. Serves both of them right. Max, for being an inconsiderate douche, and Liam for volunteering me for this damn job in the first place.
First thing’s first, I’d better get the lay of the
land. I’m actually looking forward to exploring this monstrous house. But not in these heels. Toeing my shoes off, I shrug to myself. What Max doesn’t know won’t hurt him. If he has a problem with his employees not wearing shoes, he can assign me some other task or give me a heads up on my actual duties. Which had better not include daily lavatory cleanings or I’m out of here.
Curiosity has me peeking in rooms, wandering through hallways, and checking things out. He didn’t specify where the cleaning supplies are, so I feel completely justified in my snooping. Half the rooms don’t have any furniture at all, like he’s only halfway moved in.
As I poke my head into a formal library with an enormous fireplace, I have to admit that the man has taste. At least when it comes to his home. The library has the potential to be a reader’s dream with two stories of space for books, overstuffed sofas, and plenty of indirect light coming through the floor to ceiling window.
I’m tempted to stay and find a nook with a book, but I’m getting paid. Just because my employer is an attractive ass doesn’t excuse me from doing my job. At least not until I tell him so, face to face.
Eventually, I find the cleaning supplies tucked in a random linen closet. A few minutes and rooms later, I enter what is clearly the master bedroom. Rather than the gaudy raised platform with a four poster bed, it’s actually a gorgeous room. Enormous, obviously, with hardwood floors, pale grey walls, a sitting area with a fireplace, and a king size bed. The furniture is dark wood, and the room is decorated with white and cranberry accents.
One door leads to a massive walk-in closet that probably looks even bigger than it actually is because there are hardly any clothes in it. Maybe a half-dozen suits, a few pairs of dress shoes and sneakers, and some casual clothes. Everything takes up maybe an eighth of the space.
The closet sparks an idea, and within a few minutes, my dress shirt and cardigan are discarded on Max’s bed, and I’m wearing one of his simple white t-shirts. There. It’s a little tight around the bust and hips, but it’s long enough to cover most of my skirt. Plus, now I don’t have to worry about getting cleaning supplies on my nice clothes.
I’m about to head into the bathroom—the hell I’m calling it lavatory—when I hear banging from somewhere down the hallway.
“What the…?” This calls for some investigating. Max didn’t say anything about someone else being in the house. I grab a mop and tiptoe quietly toward the noise. It’s coming from one of the rooms I haven’t explored.
With my cat-like stealth skills, I peek around the door jamb.
“Set the desk down there.” From behind, I see a woman directing three hefty guys to arrange furniture in what looks like a home office. What am I supposed to do? I barely wanted to deal with Max. Now, I have to figure out how to navigate an entire crew of people just down the hallway.
The woman turns, and I see her familiar profile.
“Paige?” The name escapes before I can think about it.
She turns toward the door and sure enough, it’s Conal’s girlfriend.
“Sloane! What are you doing here?” As she speaks, I remember the family barbeque where Paige announced she’d gotten the job as Max’s interior decorator. My brother, Conal, looked prouder than a peacock. I can’t believe I forgot she might be working here.
Straightening, I loosen my hold on the mop. Paige is a sweetie pie, and practically family, so it’s easier to chat with her.
“Liam got me a job as Max’s personal assistant,” I explain.
Paige gives me a once over and grins. “Personal assistant, huh?”
Blood rushes to my cheeks as I remember I’m wearing Max’s shirt instead of my own. “I just started today,” I stammer. “He didn’t tell me I’d be cleaning bathrooms.”
“Bathrooms?” Paige’s eyebrows hit the sky.
“I think he forgot I was coming, so he assigned me some BS work.”
Paige rolls her eyes but doesn’t say a word. After all, she’s contracted to work for him. “Well, if it gets too bad, you can always go back to the animal shelter. Although, between me and you, he needs someone who doesn’t cater to his every whim.”
“The semester at veterinary school just ended, and I’m still volunteering at Penny’s Pups in my free time. This is just my day job.”
Paige nods in approval. It feels good to have her support, especially when I’m not one hundred percent certain what I’m doing here.
“Do you want to see what we’re doing?” she asks.
“Sure.”
Once Paige has my attention, she’s like a proud mama at her childrens’ talent show. She gives me a tour of the house, bragging about what she has completed and explaining what is in the works. An hour later, we’re back where we started.
“What are your plans for the library?” What I really want to know is if it will be complete before I go back to school.
“We won’t get to the library for a couple months. For now, it’s not a top priority.”
“Well, the master bedroom is my favorite.”
“Oh, really?” she asks with a sly look in her eyes.
My cheeks heat again. “It’s just, I really like the colors and design.”
“I’m just teasing you. I think your brother is rubbing off on me.” Paige laughs as she pulls me into a hug. “If you have time later this week, let’s grab lunch, okay? I have to get back to work.”
“Sure thing. If I’m still here.” I pull away, ready to clean the bathrooms, iron his damn sheets and get out of here.
Paige smiles. “I have a feeling you’ll find a reason to stay.”
Shaking my head, I walk back to Max’s lavatory. Paige has always been optimistic, but it will take more than a pot of gold to make me want to stay in this crappy job. Even if the boss is magically delicious.
Chapter 3
Max
“I’ll see you next week, Sloane.” On Monday, I was halfway to the office when I realized I didn’t know her name. It took some social maneuvering for me to get it from Liam without giving myself away. Since then, her name—and her delicious curves—have haunted my thoughts. In an attempt to remind my libido who's in charge, I add, "Don't forget to pick up my dry-cleaning on Monday.”
Sloane nods her goodbye as she saunters out the door. My gaze gravitates toward her luscious ass, the way it’s done all week. Now, it’s Friday evening, and I can’t decide if I’m glad for a couple days of reprieve, or if I’ll go through withdrawal.
After the first day, she started coming to work in jeans and a form-fitting shirt. Not that it matters what she wears; she always looks like a goddess with creamy skin, long black hair, and flashing blue eyes.
When she arrived on Tuesday, I gave her more appropriate assignments. I actually do need a personal assistant to help me manage my numerous responsibilities. She arranges my calendar, screens my calls, and runs important errands. Sometimes we work from my estate and eat lunch together in my kitchen. Sometimes we work from the Hawthorne Group offices.
So far, she’s been exemplary at her duties. A bit quiet, but she gets the job done. Now it’s just a matter of resisting the urge to expand those duties inappropriately.
I check my calendar one last time, as I do every day before I leave the office. Damn. I forgot I'm going to need assistance tomorrow afternoon for a very important errand. My first thought is Sloane, but I need someone I can trust, and I'm still not certain about her loyalty and discretion. Instead, I pick up the phone and dial my brother. Of all people, he should be willing to help given the sensitive nature of the matter.
“Hey, Max. What’s up?”
“Hello, Grayson. Do you, perchance, have tomorrow afternoon and evening free?”
“Give me a sec. I’ll send Lily a text.”
Thankfully, my brother can’t see me rolling my eyes. Ever since he married Lily, he can’t do anything without her permission. I’m never going to give a woman that much power over me.
Grayson comes back on the line. “She’ll get back to me i
n a sec. What did you need help with?”
“My regular personal assistant quit last week and it’s time to fulfill the traditional Hawthorne responsibilities.”
He chuckles. “Ah, is it that time of the month?”
“Little brother, that joke got old a long time ago.”
“Hey! It’s funny. Besides, it’s not my fault you lost your sense of humor during puberty.”
My lips purse. I refuse to respond to his mockery.
“Hold on. Lily just replied… I’m sorry. We have plans tomorrow. Do you have someone else who can help?”
“It’s fine. I’ll work something out.” I hang up. It’s been so inconvenient with Grayson living in Fairview. I would never admit it out loud, but I miss my brother. He’s the only person I have a relationship with where I’m confident he doesn’t have an angle.
Shaking my head, I sigh. There’s no way I can cancel these plans. But I can’t do them myself. I’ll have to get Sloane’s assistance.
Pressing her speed dial on the office phone, I put Sloane on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Sloane, I need you tomorrow at four o’clock. Meet me in my office.” My thoughts take a detour as I imagine pushing Sloane over my desk and ravishing her.
I’m so distracted by my thoughts that I miss her first response.
“Pardon?”
“I said no.” She sounds concerned. Like she’s worried I might be confused.
To be honest, for a moment I am confused.
Once her statement registers, my jaw clenches and my temper grows. People don’t say no to me. I’m Maximillian Hawthorne, CEO of the prestigious Hawthorne Group and I will not be patronized. Especially by a woman who barely has the courage to speak in public.
Sloane is my employee. She agreed to the job—and the generous financial compensation. Her job is to do what I say, when I say it.
“What do you mean, no?” My voice sounds sharp and dangerous, like a sword being drawn from a sheath. Most people know not to mess with me, especially when my temper awakens.