Boss Rules: A Knocked Up Romance

by Jenna Gunn

  I’m leaning against the desk, my knees as weak as a newborn calf when he comes back. His otherworldly blue eyes take me in with something like appreciation. “That was incredible.”

  Using his knuckle, he tips my chin up and lowers his sexy as hell mouth to mine. “You drove me wild.”

  I breathe him in. “I lost my mind,” I admit.

  He kisses me then, and it’s full of hunger. I’m not sated either, even though my body is loose and humming. I want more of him.

  As if he’s reading my mind, he grins and murmurs, “Want another? I know a lot of ways to make you get off.”

  When I blush and grin like an idiot, he chuckles. In the span of a heartbeat, he’s tossed me onto the bed as if I’m nothing more than a feather. He picks up his wallet, takes out a strip of condoms, and throws them on the bed next to me. The wallet falls to the floor, forgotten as he presses a knee into the mattress.

  Lord almighty.

  This is about to get real, all over again.

  Bryce is like a fantasy in real human flesh, all that tan, strong muscle. His chest is broad, cut with angles, and thick with strength. A dusting of dark blonde hair winds its way down to his growing erection.

  Just by looking at him, I’m already on the verge of exploding again.

  I squeeze my legs together as he watches me with those incredible turquoise eyes, and his look gets so hot that I swear the hotel bedspread is going to ignite.

  He tips his chin at me as he issues the order, “Naked, now.”

  I reach for the clasp on my bra. “Do I get to give you orders too?” I purr.

  He growls, “Sure. Harder, deeper, faster.”

  I’d roll my eyes if they weren’t firmly latched onto that erection of his. Everything about Bryce is big, big, and bigger.

  No wonder he shattered me into tiny atoms of pleasure.

  “Open for me,” he grunts as he pointedly looks at my tightly locked legs.

  I, of course, oblige because I want some more of him.

  In seconds, my completely exposed skin, from head to toe, is shivering under his piercing blazing gaze.

  “So beautiful,” he murmurs as he glides a big rough hand up my leg. His hand finds my fingers and turns my forearm up. He nips at the numbers he wrote there. “You’re marked.”

  I laugh and whisper, “In more ways than one.”

  He lowers all of his hot, strong body onto me, and I feel deliciously trapped by him. “I’ve got more in mind,” he murmurs, hovering his mouth over mine.

  When he kisses me this time, it’s slower, achingly so, and much more intense. Sliding a hand beneath my thigh, he spreads me wider. And I swear he’s gotten even bigger as he glides into me.

  “You’re so wet and so hot inside, it makes me wild.”

  He crushes me into the mattress with a hard thrust and levers himself up and over me with a wicked light in his eyes. “That deep enough for you, my sexy little thing?”

  I swallow hard, my breath coming in gulps. “Yes, yes. Any deeper and you’d tear me in half.”

  He just growls and picks up his speed in response.

  The muscles in his beautiful body flex, twist, and glide under my fingers as he drives me mad.

  Closing my eyes, I soak in every single sensation, every inch of his glide. I want to memorize it. Take it with me forever.

  The one night stand to never ever forget.

  Bryce takes me, owns me, folds me up, and hammers into me. He swings my knees up and pins them beneath his powerful chest. Sweat beads slick his skin. He hardly takes those bright, riveting eyes off me as he watches my every breath and the unformed words on mouth.

  I’m completely trapped, wrapped up by his gigantic muscles of steel, his hot body all over me as he angles us for maximum pleasure.

  When I come, his hand has my wrists locked together above my head. His mouth is on my neck, where he’s talking so dirty to me, I’d blush if I weren’t busy screaming his name in a long stutter of syllables. “Br…Brrrr…B…Bryce!

  I feel his rhythm change as his orgasm clutches at him. He spasms, bucks against me, then pounds himself deep into my core. One. Two. Three more hard strokes. As he comes, he roars and throws his head back.

  Through eyes swimming with tears of pleasure, I see the veins standing out all over his neck and chest, the beads of sweat trickling down his beautiful, sculpted body.

  I lick my feverish lips and swallow against a throat that’s raw from screaming.

  Yes indeed. I won’t be forgetting California any time soon.

  3

  Chapter 3

  A nuclear hot, raging orgasm detonates at the base of my spine and rockets right up through me like a geyser.

  There’s a roaring coming from my body, but I’m gone. Far gone into the throes of pleasure so deep, you could hit me with a two by four, and I would never know.

  Shaky and breathless, I collapse onto the bed beside the semi-conscious woman who’s just a pile of limbs and fuck-tangled hair. I tuck her against me, pulling her into my arms. She’s all pliable and sweet like warm taffy.

  The little vixen just about made me lose my mind. All that screaming, shivering, and whimpering.

  Man, talk about a fuckfest of epic proportions.

  Damp hair clings to her pretty face, and her lips look deliciously kissed. I study her beautiful naked breasts as her breathing slows to a normal rate.

  She was an animal, all raw lust, taking everything I could give, and giving right back.

  I want more.

  Circling my finger around her nipple, I draw a shiver from her. “You alive?”

  “Water,” she croaks. “I’m dying.”

  Grinning, I skim my hand over her collarbone and up her neck. “You’re a screamer. You were hot as hell.”

  Clamping her hand over her eyes, she denies it. “I’m not a screamer.”

  I pull her close and nuzzle her ear. “Well, now you are…just took the right man for the job.”

  She pushes at my chest just a little. “Cocky thing.”

  “You came like a freight train.”

  Deep pink colors darken her already rosy cheeks.

  “There’s that sexy blush. You seem all innocent when you do that, but I know otherwise.” I trace my tongue around her ear in a slow circle. “Your secret is mine, though. I won’t tell anyone you’re a bad girl.”

  Laughing, she plays along. “What, me?” she says in an indignant tone.

  “Yes. Si. Oui,” I tease. Slipping my arm out from beneath her, I skim my fingers through her damp hair. The sudden urge to kiss her again is so strong that I suddenly find my lips against her temple. “I’ll get you some water. I need to get rid of this condom anyway.”

  She’s stretched out on the bed, languid, and her eyes are closed when I return. My eyes rove over her long, athletic legs, the curve of her hip, and the gentle peak of her breasts. Ray is a hot package.

  My lucky day.

  When the bed dips under the weight of my hip, she turns her head toward me. Holding out the glass, I offer it to her, and she rolls up onto her elbow, looking like a woman who has been thoroughly romped.

  Taking the glass, she eyes me with those sapphire gems that are bordered by long curved lashes.

  Something about the way she looks at me sends an emotion skittering through me, but I’m not going to look at that too closely. Instead, I go for a change of topic. “We should order takeout. We’re going to need our strength.”

  A little glimmer of wickedness dances in her eyes as she says, “Oh yeah, what for?”

  Glancing at the little clock on the hotel nightstand, I smile. “Well, we’ve got 12 hours before I need to leave for work. I plan on making the best of them.”

  She groans, squeezing her eyes shut. “I need some sleep. Got a big day tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I’ll let you get a few minutes of sleep, at least. I need time between, too, although not much. Especially as hot-blooded as you make me.”

  When she’s done dr
inking, she passes the glass to me and flops back onto the bed. “Give me strength,” she chokes out.

  “I can leave now if you prefer.”

  She moves faster than I expect, and she catches me off guard as she leaps on me and drags me back down to the bed. “You’re not going anywhere yet.”

  I laugh, not sure who’s in more trouble. Her or me.

  DoorDash delivers right on time. I climb back in bed, naked again, with enough food for four. So I got a little carried away, but I need the sustenance.

  When I have all the food laid out before us, Ray opens her mouth, and I slip a bite of sushi between her lips. She chews thoughtfully and murmurs her approval.

  “Good pick,” she says, opening her mouth up again for another taste of the spicy dragon roll.

  “Speaking of good picks, I’m very glad you chose the seat beside me.”

  She swallows and fans her mouth after getting a zap from the wasabi and whatever other magic hotness they put in the roll.

  “It was the only one,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad it was.”

  Studying her dark blue eyes as she watches me, I try to decide the color. Midnight. Yeah, that’s it.

  Dropping my chopsticks, I push the little plastic trays of food aside, lean in, and place my lips against hers.

  Spicy. Seems fitting for this little spitfire.

  “I want you now.”

  “But we’re in the middle of dinner.”

  “That can wait, but this can’t.” I grab my now engorged cock in my hand.

  “I swear, a girl can’t even catch her breath, and you’re ready to go again.”

  “Watching you eat from my hand, naked and all tousled…yeah, that will do it to a man.”

  “Come here then,” she purrs seductively.

  “You come here.” I grab her wrist and pull her up and onto my lap. “I’m going to kiss you senseless, and then I’m going to make you forget your name.”

  When the clock hits 6:00 a.m., I realize I’m screwed. Like you bought a sports car without a license screwed.

  Ray has blown my fucking mind every which way, including loose.

  All night sex fest, check.

  Laughter and sassy banter, check.

  Hot as sin body, check.

  Under my skin, check.

  She’s sitting in the middle of the bed, rubbing tired eyes. Her hair is tousled, her lips are bruised, my handprints are on her body, and my number is still on her arm.

  The last thing I want to do is leave.

  “I hate to do this. You have no idea how bad I want to stay, but I have to go. I literally cannot miss work today.”

  Her voice is sleepy and all lounge-singer from her screaming orgasms. “It’s okay. I have appointments today too.”

  Sliding my shorts on, I look around for my shirt. “Call me after work if you want.”

  She smiles, and my heart thrums furiously against my insides. “I will.” She crooks a finger at me, and I move in. She kisses my lips softly. “Best night ever,” she whispers against my lips.

  “You have no idea,” I say as I pull back. “I’m going to be on a cloud all day.” Slipping my shirt on, I grin like I’ve won the lottery. I crawl back on top of her and push her back for one more searing kiss. “Don’t forget me.”

  She’s laughing when I slide off the bed, her body in a loose-limbed splay in the tangled white sheets. “How could I?” she calls out as I slide out the door.

  God damn.

  I’ve been struck by lightning.

  4

  Chapter 4

  Rocking back in my office chair, visions of Ray’s dark blue eyes dance through my brain. That and her naughty Texas drawl. And also her screaming my name the way only she says it. Buurrr-ryyce.

  The smell of her still fills my senses—all fresh strawberries, honey, and sinful pleasure. She had me from the word go.

  She’ll call this evening. I’m a betting man, and this bet’s a winner.

  Regardless, I’ve got a busy ass day that’s more paperwork, more meetings, and more people B.S. than any one man should have to endure.

  The thought of it instantly sours my mood.

  Whap! Tap-tap!

  A loud rap of knuckles on my open door reminds me it’s almost time to get the day started. The owner of said knuckles never slows down but shouts over his shoulder, “Conference room two. We start in five minutes.”

  “Yeah,” I yell back as I snap the lid on my laptop to close it before dragging open a drawer to look for a blank notepad. Just as I’m about to go, my phone rings, bringing my hopes up. But it falls as fast as a lead weight dropped from a rooftop when a name I know appears on the screen—one of my direct reports needs something. Definitely not Ray’s Texas number.

  Jeremy’s call takes longer than I expect. I’m pretty sure five minutes have passed by the time I slide on my flip-flops and head down the hallway.

  It’s practically a family reunion around the table when I walk in. My four brothers sit, jammed into chairs that are way too small, at a conference table that’s scratched all to hell.

  Someday, we really should upgrade, or at least get chairs that fit our asses. If the county will give us the money, that is. The county budget people are experts at being cheapskates.

  Christian—my brother and boss—tosses a file folder in front of me as I fold myself into one of two empty seats.

  I hear a rustle of fabric behind me, then the voice of our office manager, saying, “Have a seat there, please. Everyone will introduce themselves.”

  Trying to get caught up, I shuffle through the papers in front of me, the names vaguely familiar from the files that were emailed to me earlier in the week.

  Before I can finish looking through the file, Christian clears his throat and says, “Hello, uh, Ms. Carson. Thank you for coming. I’m Christian Archer, Director of Beach Services for the county.” When I glance up, something a lot like a gasp of disbelief comes out of my mouth.

  Sitting just an arm’s length away from me is the girl I just fucked senseless the whole night before.

  My reaction has all eyes pivoting in my direction, but the only eyes I care to see are the shocked sapphire blue ones that are locked on me.

  She doesn’t flinch or make a sound. She just presses her lips tightly closed to seemingly staunch her reaction. I see her hand rise, dance across her throat, then fall to her forearm, pressing the long sleeve of her blouse where I know my number is still scrawled in dark ink.

  “You know each other?” Christian grumbles.

  Like the back of my hand.

  Every contour. Inside and out.

  Clearing my throat, I speak, attempting to diffuse the fact that my face has to show a hell of a lot. There’s no use putting Ray in Christian’s line of fire the first thing. “We coincidentally sat next to each other on the train yesterday.” Turning back to her, I give her a private wink. “So, how’s California treating you?”

  Ray swallows hard like she’s trying to choke down a golf ball. I slide a glass of water her way. “Fine,” she replies curtly, gaining her voice. Her tone is still raspy as hell from screaming my name the night before.

  The other men around the table give their quick introductions.

  Finally, it’s my turn. “I’m Bryce Archer, Captain of Ocean Rescue.”

  Christian, all about business, as usual, kicks off the interview questions. I try to follow along, but I’m damned if I can. I can’t hear a damn thing over the blood pounding through my veins.

  She’s all primly dressed in a fitted white blouse with her hair pulled tightly in a bun and pearls in her ears. It makes her look like a hot librarian. But I know she’s a wildcat in bed.

  About halfway through the standard interview questions, which she’s acing, by the way, I have a horrid realization.

  I’m about to swallow the proverbial double-edged sword.

  If she gets the job, she and I are done. She’ll be strictly off-limits.

  Taboo as fuck.
r />   Career ending hazard.

  Or, having her get the job means she’ll be close. Real close.

  In an instant, my mood turns pure black.

  Suddenly, a very rude elbow jabs my arm. I cut a glare at my brother, Bishop, who’s looking at me expectantly.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Your turn. You have any questions?”

  I’m frozen for a split second. Do I grill her so hard that she flounders? Or do I give her an easy pass?

  Making up my mind, I decide on the spot to test her mettle.

  With the coolest, calmest voice, and in her lovely southern way, she replies with a perfect answer to the very technical resuscitation question I ask her.

  The look on her face is smugly satisfied.

  So I go at her again.

  This time, I throw in some math, asking her to calculate wind chill using wind speed and air temperature.

  She holds my gaze as she answers flawlessly.

  Without letting up, I go at her again.

  This time, I ask a policy question. “So, Ms. Carson, what would you do if a fellow team member approached you about having sex?”

  I see a subtle tell, but no one would catch it. She curls her fingers over the skin of her hand, the hand I had my tongue on. She levels me with a pleasant gaze and says, “Fraternization is highly inappropriate in workplaces. Pardon the saying, but this ain't my first rodeo. I’ve rejected blatant and not so blatant offers before in my job. I’m perfectly capable of separating my sexual encounters from my work obligations.”

  Tipping my chair back on two legs, I study her.

  Will she rebuke me as soon as she’s hired?

  Or did she get a taste of something she’d want again?

  An awkward silence stretches on, and she averts her eyes.

  With a huff, Christian breaks the heavy air and asks, “Ms. Carson, do you have any questions?”

  “I do, thank you. Who would I report to if I’m hired?”

  “You’d be working directly under Bryce.”

  He has no idea the truth of that statement.