Ego Trip: A Cocky Boss Romantic Comedy

by Tabatha Kiss

  She pushes herself up, purposefully breaking the kiss. “Now?” she asks.

  “Not yet,” I say, desperate to bring her back to me.

  She flexes her arms, successfully holding herself up. “Now,” she says, no longer a question.

  I sigh as I release her. “All right,” I say.

  Paige slides off, but stays close to me. “What are we doing, Oli?” she asks.

  “I don’t care,” I answer as I turn onto my side to face her. “I just want you.”

  “This can’t last.”

  “Sure, it can.”

  “How?”

  I run my finger down her arm toward her naked hip. “I don’t care.”

  She chuckles. “Not really the practical, actionable answer I’d expect from the Company Liaison.”

  “Okay, how about this?” I kiss her forehead before going on. “No one has to know,” I say.

  “Oli...”

  “This doesn’t affect our work,” I say. “We’re not hurting anybody.”

  “But—”

  “It’s no one’s business but ours.”

  “I’m not sure it works that way,” she says.

  “I don’t care.”

  “You can’t just keep saying that!”

  “Okay, fine,” I say. “What do you suggest?”

  “If we’re going to do this, then we have to be discreet,” she says. “Once we set foot outside of our rooms, we’re co-workers and nothing more.”

  “I can get behind that,” I say.

  “No touching,” she says. “No flirting. No long, lingering stares.”

  “All reasonable terms.”

  “No dinners in public together. No more trips to local bars. We have to maintain a professional public appearance at all times until we can get back and talk to Graham.”

  I pause. “You want to talk to Graham?”

  “If we can get him on board with it, then everyone will be.”

  “You think he would be on board with it?”

  She nods, though she doesn’t seem all that sure. “I think so,” she says. “Especially if we don’t let it affect our work. It hasn’t so far. And I don’t see there being much of a conflict of interest once we get back home and you officially start flying solo.”

  I look down. “Does that mean you’re rejecting my job offer?” I ask.

  Paige inhales to speak, but pauses. “Yes,” she says after a moment.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I can’t work for you, Oliver.”

  “You love this job, Paige.”

  “I do.”

  “Then, why give it up?”

  She turns her head, looking into the opposite corner of the room. “I don’t want to abandon Graham right now.”

  “You’re not abandoning Graham. He’ll be fine.”

  “He’s under a lot of pressure,” she argues. “The last thing I want to do is give him something else to worry about between running the company and being a new dad. I’ve worked with him for five years. He deserves more than that.”

  I close my mouth. I will not change her mind about this tonight. I don’t want to spend the rest of the night arguing with her about it, either.

  “All right,” I say, letting it go. “You know what you’re doing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just promise me you’ll reconsider it later.”

  She nods. “Sure. I’ll reconsider it later, but not now.”

  “Oh, of course not now.” I roll her onto her back. “Now is for this…”

  I kiss her, and she laughs.

  The alarm blares from my phone by the bed. Time to wake up.

  But first...

  I tap the alarm off and roll over to find her. My hand glides along the bedsheets, but they’ve gone cold.

  Paige?

  I sit up to look around my suite. Morning Miami sunlight pools on the floor from the curtains still swaying with that endless ocean breeze, but it’s quiet. Lonely.

  “Paige?” I ask.

  As I walk across the suite, I notice things are out of place from where I left them last night. My suitcase, which I deposited by the door, now sits next to the closet on the other side. A garment bag, which I hung in the closet, now hangs from a hook on the back of the door with a note attached to it in Botsford Plaza stationery.

  Had to go run, it says. Big day! -P

  My god, her discipline.

  Making me look bad.

  I unzip the bag to find today’s outfit waiting for me, along with a blue and silver tie.

  “Corporate,” I mutter with a smile.

  Chapter 34

  Paige

  I scan the gift shop shelves in front of me, inspecting every glass and coffee mug for blemishes and imperfections. The Plaza gift shops get a lot of foot traffic, so I rarely dock them if something is out of place. It’s not uncommon to find a badly hung T-shirt or a drinking glass covered in fingerprints, thanks to an indecisive guest.

  A throat clears behind me.

  I look forward into the mirrored wall and smile at the reflection. Oliver hovers behind me, looking rather dashing in the tie I set out for him. “Hey, boss,” I greet him. “Accounting all finished?”

  “Counted and complete,” he says.

  I check it off my list. “Excellent.”

  I spin toward the next shelf, doing my best to appear natural in front of Holly behind the cash register. We’re not the only Botsford Plaza employees in this room. And this room is stocked to the brim with hidden security cameras to prevent shoplifters.

  Surely, Oliver won’t try anything in here.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you sucking my dick.”

  Or maybe he will.

  I fire a glare at him in the mirror.

  He smirks. “Oh, I’m just playing around.”

  “Not the place to play, Oliver,” I whisper.

  “And that’s why it’s fun.” He licks his lips. “I like the tie. Thank you.”

  “It looks good on you,” I say with a friendly nod.

  “So do you.”

  I glare again.

  But he just keeps on smiling. “Tonight,” he whispers, “you and me—”

  “Stop it.”

  “I left something in your room,” he says. “Something I want you to wear for me.”

  “What?”

  He doesn’t answer. “At ten o’clock, you’ll put it on,” he says. “You’ll kneel on the floor by the door and you’ll wait for me.”

  I pause. I swallow hard.

  I fucking die.

  “Oliver, that’s...”

  “Yes, it is,” he says. “Is that your phone?”

  “What?”

  A ringtone pierces my ears. I didn’t even hear it ring the first time.

  “Oh—!” I quickly retrieve it from my pocket and answer it. “Hey, Mom. Can you hold for a second?” I firmly cover the microphone without listening for a response. “That’s a scene out of the book,” I say to Oliver.

  He nods. “Uh-huh.”

  I exhale every molecule of air from my gut.

  Oh.

  Oh, dear.

  Oliver winks. “Ten o’clock.” He takes a step back and pivots toward the desk. “Holly!” he greets. “How you doing? I’m Oliver...”

  As he continues his introduction, I stand still, once again wondering how on earth he slips back into work mode so easily after casually rocking my fucking world.

  I take a desperate breath. “Oh, boy,” I mutter.

  “Paige? Are you there?”

  I flinch, nearly forgetting about the call in progress. “Yeah, Mom,” I say into the phone. “I’m here. Are you okay?”

  Oliver glances at me over his shoulder with a barely noticeable glint in his wicked eyes, but it still hits me with the force of a truck.

  Oh, fuck me.

  Ten o’clock comes slowly.

  Oliver was the perfect boss after that. No naughty words. No hidden winks. Completely professional in every way.

/>   Meanwhile, my heart was racing.

  And it hasn’t quite stopped yet.

  I pace the carpet of my suite, my toes digging in with each heavy step, as I stare at the garment bag hung on the back of my door. There’s a note attached to it, written on Botsford Plaza stationery.

  Do not open until ten o’clock.

  If Oliver truly is following the book, then I already know what’s inside.

  I already know what he’s going to want once I’m in it.

  At 9:55, I strip.

  I hang my skirt and blouse in the closet. I roll my stockings down and leave them in my suitcase. I let my hair down, giving it a quick brush, too. I remove my bra and panties.

  I open the garment bag. A plain men’s dress shirt hangs inside with a scarlet red tie draped over the shoulder.

  My pulse skips twice. It’s not only fueled by the fantasy I’ve pictured since I first read that book, but intensified because my lover read it, too, and had the same fantasy as me.

  I throw the shirt on, leaving it open and unbuttoned.

  I kneel on the floor by the door. I wrap the tie around my eyes, knotting it behind my head. A little light makes it through, so give it a quick adjustment so it obscures my vision completely.

  And then I wait.

  In the book, this wasn’t some punishment dealt out by a ruthless Dom. It was research for a book Melissa was working on. She wanted to know what it was like to be submissive so she could put herself in the mind of her characters. Richard, of course, volunteered to play out a scene with her at a local kink club.

  Unfortunately, they were so silly with one another, they couldn’t take it seriously. The experiment was ruined, but she ended up with enough inspiration to finish her book, anyway.

  And they fucked. A lot.

  A keycard slides into the lock.

  I roll my shoulders back as the doorknob turns. I fold my hands and look down, willing myself into Melissa’s mind as she waited for Richard. The teasing thoughts. The wicked anticipation. The aching feeling of... her feet falling asleep.

  My toes tingle. Ah, shit.

  The door closes. I focus on the sound of shoes lightly whispering the carpet as they make their way toward me, recognizing Oliver’s smooth, casual gait. He stops in front of me. I feel a finger brush the bottom of my chin and he forces me to look up.

  “Good girl,” he whispers.

  My breath trembles in my chest. He lets go and rises. His belt buckle clinks as he slides it free.

  “Raise your hands,” he says.

  I obey. I delight in the feeling of leather wrapping tightly around them; a taut leash to keep me close to him.

  Oliver steps back and gives me a light tug. “Come,” he says.

  I walk on my knees, blindly following him across the carpet. My tingling toes drag, full of little stabbing needles as my circulation returns. I ignore it, not wanting to ruin the fantasy too early and miss what’s going to happen next.

  The difference between Richard and Oliver is that Oliver likes to be in charge.

  Oliver settles into the chair by the writing desk. “Kneel,” he says.

  I rest back on my knees, maintaining a straight face through stabbing toes. He leans forward, a single finger grazing my cheek. It draws along my jawline and swipes my bottom lip, prompting my lips to part.

  “Do you want it?” he asks, following the book.

  My tongue twitches in my mouth. I nod.

  “Say it,” he says. “Tell me how badly you want to suck it.”

  Unlike Melissa, I don’t laugh. I just quiver. “Yes,” I say. “I want you in my mouth.”

  Oliver’s touch falls from my face as he sits back. “Go ahead,” he says.

  I shift toward him, blindly pushing his knees apart as my hands crawl up his thighs. His bulge twitches. He inhales sharply as I peel his zipper down. His fingers curl behind my head, twisting up in my hair. I lick my lips. I open my mouth to him.

  “Fuck,” he whispers above me.

  I twirl my tongue around his crown. My tongue dances, eager to taste even more of him. I lick from his base to his tip. I listen to the soft, aching sounds spilling out of him. I feel him watching me, those icy blue eyes sending a chill down my spine.

  I take him deeper into my mouth and my sex aches with a delicious heartbeat. He tightens his grip on my hair. He thrusts upward to fuck my throat and all I can do is moan.

  Yes. Yes. Yes.

  Oliver pulls himself out. I gasp in surprise, taking the chance to catch my breath as he rises out of the chair. He gives the belt a quick tug on my wrists, showing that he wishes for me to follow him.

  I obey, shuffling my knees across the carpet in his direction.

  “Stand up,” he tells me. “Lie down on the bed.”

  I push myself up. He takes hold of my wrists and quickly detaches the belt before grabbing my arm and guiding me. My knees tap the bed and I climb onto it to lie down, just as he told me to.

  I wait, listening to the obvious sounds of him undressing at the foot of the bed. I lie still, fighting the urge to peek as goosebumps coat my arms in anticipation.

  Finally, Oliver climbs onto the bed. He lowers down, his body heat touching my legs before he does. He kisses my knees. My thighs. My mound. My nipples twist into hard buds as he laves his tongue up my belly toward my breasts. He opens my shirt wider to see and touch my body. My everything.

  “Cross your wrists over your head,” he says.

  I inhale sharply; the request firing a heated spark through my sex. I slowly raise my hands over my head and Oliver leans forward to cross them together. I feel a touch of fabric, a thin strip as soft as silk, wrap around them.

  “I knew it,” Oliver says as he fastens me to the headboard.

  “What?” I ask.

  He leans down until his lips barely touch mine. “My ties look good on you, too,” he says.

  I chuckle. He kisses me; a firm but delicate reward.

  His knee pushes between my legs, forcing them wide apart. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer to align me for the taking. His erection touches my inner thigh, but he doesn’t thrust it home. He fondles me again, touching my breasts and hips and thighs. He drags his fingers down my belly, a slow aching trek toward my clit.

  I moan as little blooms of pleasure dance across my skin. His fingers part my lips below. He teases me with slow circles around my clit. He toys with me, massaging my entrance with his fingertips. I grow wet and sensitive, each new touch spawning a moan.

  Oliver leans down to kiss my breasts. He sucks on my nipples as his hand continues to work me. My thighs twitch and my back arches. I’m dripping and throbbing.

  I beg to be taken.

  To be fucked.

  Oliver turns his hand, angling his pinkie finger toward my asshole. I gasp as he finds my tight opening, and he chuckles in response. He crushes our mouths together, his tongue drawn to mine like a magnet. His little finger pokes me and I stiffen, but he hits me with an even longer, deeper kiss that sends waves of desire through me. I relax. I loosen. I let him inside of me; into a place no man has never gone before.

  “Shh,” Oliver whispers.

  I kiss him as his finger slowly probes deeper.

  He stretches me a little more. I wince from sudden pain, but a surge of pleasure races through me as he pulls it back out. In and out. In and out. I relish in the push and pull, moaning and begging for more.

  Oliver kisses down my neck. He licks between my breasts. He sucks on my clit, blending pain and pleasure as one.

  I jolt from the inside out. I’m so close to the edge.

  I hold my restraints as my body loses control.

  My thighs twitch. My toes curl.

  Oliver slips two fingers into my pussy. I cry out in passion, losing myself to every sensation as climax breaks me apart.

  His fingers. His tongue.

  His insistence on pulling an orgasm out of me, no matter what hole he’s in.

  My body twists so tightly I do
n’t even feel it when he pulls out of me and crawls up the bed. I feel him touch my lips, the tip far too large to be a finger.

  I part my lips for his cock. I suck him hard and fast, bobbing my head as I moan.

  “Just like that,” Oliver says as he squeezes my hair. “Don’t fucking stop.”

  I don’t. I won’t.

  I can’t.

  He groans over me, breathing hard. I feel his cum rush out onto my tongue. He pulls out, dripping a line of it down my chin and onto my breasts.

  “Fuck,” he whispers, spent and satisfied.

  Oliver loosens the tie around my wrists. I let them fall to my sides, far too tired to hold them up anymore. He pulls the tie off my eyes. I blink to adjust and the first thing I see is his wide, sinister smile.

  Before I can settle onto the bed, Oliver cradles me in his arms and lifts me up.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “I’m going to clean you up,” he says as he carries me toward the bathroom.

  Chapter 35

  Paige

  Wait for it...

  I eye the horizon from the balcony. The sky, once a deep shade of blue, is now brighter and slightly purple.

  Any minute now...

  I pull the bathrobe a little tighter around me. The chances of someone seeing me all the way up here on the balcony are slim, but still. I’m naked under this thing. One gust of wind and I’m flashing the world below.

  Almost...

  “What are you doing out here?”

  I smile at the voice behind me. “Watching the sunrise,” I answer with a glance over my shoulder. “I missed it last night.”

  Oliver steps out onto the balcony in his own bathrobe and scans the sky. “Looks like I’m just in time,” he says.

  I nod. “Last one I’ll see for a while.”

  He nods, though I can tell he wants to say more. He wants to offer me the job again, maybe this time with a much sweeter offer. More money. More benefits, though I’m not sure how he can top what I already get, truthfully. Even if he did, I won’t.