The New Boss

by Wylder, Penny

  I don’t care that we’re in public, and I don’t care that there are people who might know who I am and see us together. As soon as she’s in my orbit, I pull her close and kiss the hell out of her. It’s simply not an option to not be touching this woman. This tornado of a woman who literally crashed into my life and turned it entirely upside down.

  “Hello,” I say the words against your lips.

  “Hi. Sorry I’m a little late, these shoes are more for looks than they are for walking.”

  I look down at the shoes to get a better look. Black heels a mile high, ribbons wrapping around her ankles. Fuck, they’re hot. “Why were you walking?”

  She laughs lightly. “Bus stop.”

  My stomach drops, and I tighten my arms around her instinctively. “You wore this on the bus?”

  “That’s what you do in L.A. if you don’t have a car. There’s a subway, too.” She’s smirking, teasing me because I’m rich. And as much as I love that, I don’t want her riding the bus looking so fucking appealing.

  “I’ll be driving you home tonight,” I say. “I don’t want those heels on the bus.”

  Brooke laughs. “At least feed me before talking about taking me home.”

  “I’ll do more than that.” I keep my arm around her waist as I turn and walk with her into the restaurant.

  “Perfection!” Anton exclaims, his Italian accent out in full force. “Your table is ready, Malcolm. And you,” he turns to Brooke. “You know how long we’ve been trying to bring a woman here? All the time, he’s here alone and we ask him when he’s going to settle down with a nice lady. And here you are.”

  On my arm, Brooke blushes.

  “Don’t give away all my secrets, Anton.”

  He smiles as he leads us into the restaurant. “You already know, Malcolm. There are no secrets among Italians.”

  I look down, fully expecting Brooke to be smiling, but she’s not. She’s looking around and taking everything in. But more than that, she looks nervous. The only time that I’ve ever seen her look nervous was that first night when we were dancing around each other, and that didn’t last very long.

  Her fingers are tight where they’re wrapped around mine. I didn’t notice her grab my hand, but I like the way this feels. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I simply enjoyed something like holding hands.

  Anton takes us to a table by the windows that overlooks the beach and the ocean, and I help her sit. I wait until Anton takes his leave before I ask her, “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Rolling my eyes, I lean across the table and capture her hand. “Earlier this afternoon I was just thinking about how you’re one of the most vibrantly honest people that I know. It’s what makes you such a brilliant actor. But it also makes it incredibly easy to tell when you’re lying. That, and I deal with people who are trying to lie to me on a daily basis. So what’s wrong?”

  Brooke blushes again and pulls her hand away. She looks down at her fingers, fidgeting with the ring that she’s wearing. “I just feel a little out of place. I’ve never been here before, and I’m wearing a dress that cost like twenty dollars at a thrift store.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  She smiles, but it fades fast. “I took the bus here. And I don’t mind…I just…I’m not used to this.”

  It takes a fraction of a second to make the decision. I raise my hand and a waiter appears. “Get Anton for me?”

  Our host appears, immediate concern on my face. “Is everything all right?”

  I nod. “We decided we want a little change in scenery. Can you call ahead to Marco?”

  “Yes.” The man grins and looks between the two of us. “He’ll have everything ready for you two. I’ll have your car pulled around.”

  Brooke looks at me with wide eyes. “We don’t—I didn’t mean that we have to leave.”

  “I know.” I take her hand and pull her to standing. “But there’s another place that I like just as much. It’s not far from here, and I think you’ll be more comfortable. Not that I don’t want you to experience the food here—it’s amazing—but for our first date I don’t want you to feel awkward.”

  “Feels a little weird to call this our first date, given this week.”

  “True. But who cares if we did it backwards? Now we don’t have to spend hours of small talk just to see if we have good chemistry.” I lean close. “We already know that we have plenty of that.”

  I love the little shiver that goes through her.

  The place I’m taking her now doesn’t even have an official name. It’s a hole-in-the-wall place that looks more like a door that leads to a shady mob hangout than one of the best barbecue joints in the city. The Oteros are known for their Italian food and restaurants, but they have a fascination with barbecue that doesn’t exactly fit their brand. Nevertheless, this place is something they only tell their best customers about.

  It’s dark and smoky and there are only about five tables. It’s absolutely perfect.

  Brooke looks at the entrance when we get out of the car. “Is this the part where you kill me?”

  “Only after you try the food. Though it’s so good that you might die first.”

  Her comfortable smile is back, along with the glimmer in her eyes. Marco is ready for us, and he pulls me into a hug to slap me on the back. “It’s been a long time. I swear to God, Malcolm, if you’ve been eating someone else’s barbecue.”

  “Never. I’ve just been busy.”

  “You’re never too busy to eat. Come on.”

  At least he doesn’t give me a hard time about Brooke. When we sit down at the table, there’s already a full spread. Pulled pork. Bread. Wings. A sampling of their best. I love the look on Brooke’s face, and when she bites into the pork and moans, the sound goes straight to my cock.

  “Better?”

  “Much better,” she laughs. “And this is definitely the best barbecue that I’ve had in L.A. But I’m from Georgia. So if you want to know what true glory tastes like, you’re going to have to come with me and try some real native BBQ.”

  “Done.”

  We both freeze. She said it as a joke, but my agreement wasn’t one. It was instinctual, and completely earnest. Brooke smiles though, cheeks pink. “Okay. We’ll have to…put it on the books.”

  I’m getting caught up in this woman so fucking fast that I can’t breathe, and I don’t ever want to stop. She’s a breath of fresh air off the Pacific. Bright sunshine and warmth: she’s everything that I’ve wanted and everything that I thought I had—

  I force those thoughts out of my head and focus back on her and the way she’s enjoying this. She tells me about the play that she’s auditioning for, and I fucking love the way she comes alive while talking about the character that she wants. Brooke needs to be an actress. She’s suited for it, and unlike the many that I’ve met who are more interested in fame than the work, she’s secretly a theater nerd. It’s beautiful.

  When dinner is finally over, I feel like I’m drunk off her. The sun is setting and the sky is on fire. I don’t want this night to end.

  I keep her tucked into my side as we walk to the car.

  “Are you going to drive me home?”

  “I’d much rather drive you to my place. Is that okay?”

  “Fuck, yes.” She blows out a breath in relief. “And fast as you can without breaking the law, okay? Because I need you. Sir.”

  Los Angeles traffic has never been more frustrating than this moment. I feel like I’m not even conscious of my surroundings because I’m so focused on her. On the way, she keeps rubbing her legs together in anticipation. The way she keeps looking over at me. The way she keeps reaching over to touch me like she can’t quite believe that I’m real.

  I pull into my parking garage, and I don’t take my time. We’re practically running to the elevator, and Brooke is laughing. “Wait. The heels.”

  “Don’t you dare take them off,” I growl. “I want you in those and o
nly those.”

  “Oh my God.” Her voice is breathy.

  I pull her into the elevator and punch the code for the penthouse before I pin her to the wall and take her mouth. This is what I wanted to do the first time I met her. Before I even knew who she was and all I knew was the brief feeling of her body on mine. Now that I’ve had everything, I want it so much more.

  The combination of her mouth and the dizzying speed of the elevator is fucking perfect. Her body is pliant against mine, arching up, pressing against me in every way that she can.

  A chime sounds and the door slides open. We’re barely through the door before I’m peeling her out of her dress and her hands are pushing my jacket off my shoulders. “I promise I’ll give you a tour later.”

  “You’re giving me a tour now. We’re just seeing the bedroom first.”

  I laugh. “I like the way you think.”

  “And you like the way I fuck.”

  The sound that comes out of me is pure need. I strip the rest of her clothes off so that she’s only in the heels before I scoop her up and walk straight to my bedroom. There’s not anything in this place that I haven’t personally chosen, and I chose a fucking huge bed. A bed that’s been empty for far too long.

  I lay her out, loving the way her hair spreads across my comforter. The only reason I step away from her is to get a condom. I need to be inside her so badly that I can’t breathe.

  “Brooke—”

  “Don’t talk,” she says. “Just fuck me.”

  She’s already so wet that she’s glistening, and I can’t resist the urge to lean down and taste her. Brooke moans, and I push her thighs wider apart. Her pussy is sweet and rich and the best damn dessert that I’ve ever had in my life.

  I suck her clit between my lips. Graze it with my teeth. Set up a rhythm with my tongue to stroke the underside of it until she’s writhing under my hands even though I’m holding her still. Dipping my tongue into her pussy, I groan. God, I could do this all night and not get tired of it. But I also know what her pussy feels like, and I need to feel her like I need to breathe.

  Brooke is shaking under my mouth, and I pull away before she can go over the edge. “No.” She reaches for me, and I shift, thrusting into her deep. Her pussy spasms around my cock, her scream echoing off the walls of my bedroom as the orgasm takes her. She arches off the bed. I drink in the sight of her pleasure while I work myself deeper.

  Lifting her legs, I toss them over my shoulders. Those goddamn shoes are so fucking hot, and the way she’s shifting and tensing, I can feel them. Exactly like I wanted.

  I’ve already been all the way inside her, but somehow this feels so much deeper. She’s squeezing me so hard that I see white. Never in my life have I felt the way I do with her. Every time I’m inside her, it’s more than just sex. It’s perfection that I never want to end.

  Arms wrap around my neck, and I slip my hands under her, lifting her ass so I can drive in harder. That last little bit that carries her over again, words and breath in my ear begging me for more.

  My orgasm is so close, I’m not going to last. I can’t last. But Brooke is in my bed, and we have all night. Pleasure blasts through my body like a solar flare. I’m entirely in its grip. And I know immediately that this is something I won’t ever forget—and the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my fucking life.

  I nearly collapse on top of Brooke, loving the feel of her breathing underneath me. I don’t pull out of her yet. Connected like this, I don’t want it to be over yet. After a week of office sex, she’s finally laid out in front of me like a feast. Pinning her arms to the bed, I kiss her. “Now that I have you in my bed, I’m going to memorize you.”

  Brooke’s pussy squeezes me in response. I’m already hardening again. That’s what she does to me. Every part of me wants her. All the time. And I’m not sure what that means. It’s not something I’ve ever felt before. With anyone.

  But tonight I’m not going to question it.

  “Do you want the tour now?”

  If she does want it, I’ll give it to her, though I say it mostly as a joke.

  Reaching up, Brooke pulls my mouth down to hers. “There’s time for that later, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She grins. “Then I’m not fucking moving.”

  “Good.” Exactly what I want to hear. Lowering my mouth to her skin, I start what I intend to be a very, very thorough exploration. “When I’m done with you, you’ll have come so many times that you’ll be shaking. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Brooke shudders. “A good secretary never says no to an order, Sir.”

  Smiling, I kiss her one more time, and then I get to work.

  6

  Brooke

  I wake slowly, taking in the sunrise over L.A. through Malcolm’s massive windows. He’s asleep behind me, arm thrown over my hip and holding me against him. I could drown in this warmth forever.

  He kept his promise last night and memorized me with his mouth and hands and cock. And by the time that he actually did get around to giving me a tour of the place, I could barely walk. And when he showed me the kitchen and realized that he has an incredible amount of bare countertops, he used those too.

  I feel like I ran the world’s best marathon. Exhausted and blissed out. I’ll be sore for days and I won’t fucking care.

  The soft sound of vibration comes from nearby, and I slowly move, leaning over the edge of the bed to reach my phone where it ended up last night. It means that Malcolm’s arm isn’t quite around me anymore, and I already miss it. The way he touches me…it’s unbelievable.

  I used to think that people were joking when they talked about this kind of chemistry. That they were just high on life and in love and that it couldn’t possibly be that good. Holy hell was I wrong.

  Now that I’m awake and he’s not, I can stare at some of the things in his room. Last night I hid the awe from him. Everything in this penthouse is sheer luxury. I don’t think I truly understood his wealth until last night. And just like the restaurant, I feel completely out of place.

  The apartment I share with Amy is fine, but I wouldn’t call it nice by any means. And there are some months that I’ve scraped by to afford it. Many more days and weeks when I wondered if it was even a good idea for me to stay in L.A. because it’s so expensive. The job with Malcolm definitely helps—it’s a good salary. But how long is it going to last now that I’ve jumped into bed with him?

  He leaped into action the moment I showed any discomfort. What would he do if I told him that in his home I felt like a visitor in a museum?

  Chill out, Brooke.

  It’s not nearly that bad. Besides, I’m an actor. I’m sure that I can get used to this, I just need to fake it until I make it. There isn’t anything else that I need to fake with Malcolm, that’s for sure.

  I check my phone. It’s a text from Amy.

  Hey, where are you?

  Smirking at the screen, I reply.

  I may have gone home with someone.

  There’s an immediate response of an emoji that’s crying with laughter. Then,

  Any good?

  You could say that.

  Another laughing face.

  You’ll have to tell me about it later. But when are you going to be back? You have everything you need for the audition?

  I check the time. It’s later than I thought, but I still have time. Especially if I don’t have to take the bus.

  I’ll be there! Leaving soon.

  She sends me a thumbs up and I drop the phone back onto my dress.

  Fingers curl around my hip. “You are way too far away.”

  Malcolm pulls me back against him, turning me so that we’re face to face and he can kiss me. Beneath the sheets we’re nothing but skin on skin, and after a week of barely being able to get naked, it feels like unspeakable luxury. “Just checking my phone.”

  “This early?”

  I laugh. “I have to go soon. My audition.”

 
; “That’s right,” he says. “You’re going to knock them dead.”

  Nerves dance in my gut. “I hope so.”

  “There’s not even a question.” He runs his hand down my body. “And as much as I’d love to keep you in my bed all day and fuck you into oblivion…”

  “We’ll have another day for that,” I say. “Right?”

  “Damn well better be,” he mutters as he pulls away. “I’ll drive you home.”

  I roll out of the bed and grab my dress. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’s going to be so much faster.”

  “And like hell am I letting you take the bus at this hour in those shoes.”

  I smirk at him and make sure he’s watching when I slip the dress on over my head with nothing underneath. “I guess the ‘fuck me’ shoes worked on you.”

  Malcolm pins me with a stare while he pulls on a pair of pants. “If I could make a law that you only wear those shoes, I would do it.”

  “God, they hurt so bad. I don’t even want to put them back on.”

  He looks around. “Do you have everything?”

  “Yeah.”

  Malcom throws on a t-shirt—something that is an entirely different kind of mouthwatering—and slips into shoes before crossing the room and lifting me into his arms. “What are you doing?”

  “You don’t want to put on the shoes, you don’t have to. I’ve got you.”

  I can’t look up at him. I’m suddenly blushing. This feels more intimate than who we are. But who are we? We’re falling into each other so fast that I can’t breathe, but at the same time, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  The way he’s carrying me—like it’s effortless—unlocks something in me. It’s comforting, and leaning on someone like this, even physically, isn’t something that I’ve been able to do in a long time.

  He carries me all the way to his car and tucks me into the passenger seat like it’s nothing. And then he takes my hand when he starts to drive like this is something that we always do. It’s so comfortable that I can imagine that this is us after a year and not a week.