Bad Boss

‘I’m beginning to wish I’d never said that,’ she muttered.

‘But you did say it.’

She was reluctant and I didn’t know why. It puzzled me, irritated me. Her body had been ready, but her head hadn’t, or so she’d said, and she’d needed time. Neither of those things should have bothered me. If she didn’t want to accept my offer, then I shouldn’t have given it another thought. I had plenty of other women who were happy to accept what I had to give.

But it wasn’t other women that I wanted and I understood that now.

It was Morgan.

I shut my eyes, closing out the view of the lights and the fascinating pattern, concentrating on her voice. It was easier to talk to her on the phone, where I didn’t have her face in front of me with all those expressions crossing it. Expressions that didn’t match with her tone and that I couldn’t interpret. With only her voice, there were no other distractions. I could parse the meanings in it.

‘Tell me,’ I said, because I wanted to know, ‘Is it other sexual experiences that are making you reluctant? Have you not had physical pleasure before with a partner?’

Yet more silence.

Was she offended? I couldn’t tell.

‘That’s none of your business.’ Her voice sounded crisp. But then she always sounded crisp.

‘It’s most definitely my business if you’re going to have sex with me,’ I pointed out. ‘And I can promise you that, if you do, it’ll be a better experience than any you’ve had before. In fact, I can assure you that you’ll never have another like it.’

She made a choking sound. ‘You’re incredibly arrogant. You know that, right?’

People had told me that before, though I didn’t understand why. I was good at a great many things, and sex was one of them. I saw no reason to pretend otherwise.

‘Would you rather have sex with someone who didn’t know what they were doing?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she said after a moment. ‘I suppose not.’

Her answer didn’t surprise me, because was there anyone who’d want to waste time on an experience that would only be disappointing? With me she’d know exactly what she’d be getting: nothing but pleasure and I could guarantee it.

‘No,’ I replied, satisfied. ‘Of course you wouldn’t. And it’s not just pleasure I can give you, Morgan, but I can also promise that you’ll be safe with me. You can trust me to look after you both before sex and afterwards—completely.’

She made another inarticulate noise. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’

‘Good.’ Obviously she’d decided. ‘I’ll be round in fifteen minutes.’ And I disconnected the call.

CHAPTER FIVE

Morgan

FIFTEEN MINUTES? WAS he kidding?

I stared at the wall of my tiny kitchen, my phone clutched in my hand.

Ulysses had disconnected before I could say a word and now he was coming here. In fifteen minutes.

Shit.

‘You bloody stupid bastard,’ I muttered to him, and maybe a little to myself as well, because clearly I hadn’t been obvious enough. And with Ulysses I had to be obvious, since he didn’t understand subtle.

If you’d wanted to tell him no, you should have said no.

But I hadn’t said no. Or even, ‘No, I don’t want to sleep with you—not now, not ever.’

When I’d walked out of his office earlier, I’d told him I’d think about it, but what I’d actually intended to do was go on with my day as if nothing had happened. And yet I’d found I couldn’t stop thinking about him, that kiss and my own intense reaction to him. In the end I hadn’t been able to concentrate on work so I’d invented a headache and had taken myself off home to contemplate my life choices.

I hadn’t expected him to call me. I thought he’d get distracted by work and completely forget what had happened in his office.

Apparently not.

So what now?

Good question. My subconscious was clearly up to something, as I hadn’t managed the word no, which must mean that, yes, I was seriously contemplating sleeping with Ulysses.

Was I insane?

I’d never done anything outrageous or inappropriate before. I wasn’t into rocking the boat. I liked my boats steady and firm underfoot, with absolutely no rocking of any kind.

My only rebellion was the occasional burst of sarcasm when Ulysses was being an utter tool.

A small rebellion. Just like my life. Small and narrow. Confined.

Safe.

Since when had I let it come to this? To long hours spent at work, living in a tiny flat in London? Going nowhere and seeing no one? The same routine, day in, day out? The only contact I had being with a man who didn’t understand me?

I tossed the phone back down on the kitchen counter and paced over to the window, looking out onto the lights of the street below.

I lived in a tiny apartment in the city, a studio flat. I could have afforded bigger, given Ulysses paid me very well, but I’d never seen the point of having something big when it was just me living in it. I didn’t want to rattle around in some vast space, fully aware of how on my own I was.

A safe, small little life contained in a tiny flat.

Yay, you.

I frowned at the night outside my windows.

I liked my own company. I was perfectly happy living by myself. I was perfectly happy with my job. I’d gone straight from school to London after Damian had got me a position as Ulysses’s personal assistant. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Sometimes I wished I’d had some time to live a little before then. But I also knew that Damian wanted the best for me and he’d worked his butt off to help me get where I was today.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful. I just wanted something…more.

Something that wasn’t safe or so confined.

Something that rocked my very stable boat just a little.

Such as sex with your infuriating boss? Passionate sex? Rough, wild sex?

A shiver slid down my spine. An excited shiver.

He’d assured me I’d have a better experience than any I’d had before. That I’d never have another experience like it, and that wasn’t an empty promise. I’d called him arrogant, and he was, but only because that arrogance was thoroughly justified. Socially he might be at sea, but he knew his company inside out, saw the big picture as well as the small. He knew exactly what was happening where and at any given time. He’d told me once that he saw Black and White Enterprises like an engine, every part fitting perfectly together and moving as one. It made it easy for him to see what was going wrong and how he needed to fix it, and he did so every time, with precision.

If he does this with his company, how would it feel if he did this with sex?

Another shudder worked its way down my spine.

If I told him what I wanted, would he give it to me? Would he judge me the way one-night-stand guy had?

You know he wouldn’t.

He’d asked me if I’d wanted to be forced into the kiss, which presumably meant he didn’t have a problem with doing so. And if he didn’t have a problem with doing that, perhaps he wouldn’t have a problem with other things…

I swallowed, my mouth dry, a pulse of hunger going through me.

Perhaps that’s why I didn’t want to ask him for those things. Because I knew he’d give them to me and then I’d have to confront the reality of my own dark fantasies.

The lights of the city twinkled beyond the glass, a reminder that life was going on outside the four walls of my flat. Life that, if I wasn’t careful, would pass me by.

I didn’t want it to pass me by. I didn’t want to wait until my leave was approved or find myself another man. Not when Ulysses was offering me what I wanted now.

My doorbell buzzer went off, jolting me.

It would be Ulysses. He was nothing if not punctual.

My heartbeat went into overdrive as I moved into my tiny lounge area and over to the intercom, my dry mouth going even drier. I was really going to do this, wasn’t I?

My fingers shook as I pressed the button. ‘Ulysses?’

‘Yes.’ His deep, cold voice seem to fill my entire flat. ‘I said I’d be fifteen minutes. Do you need me to provide you with some ID?’

‘ID?’ For a second I had no idea what he was talking about.

‘You have no security in this building.’ He sounded appalled. ‘I could be anyone pressing this button.’

The offence in his voice made something tense inside me relax. It was such a Ulysses thing to say.

‘I know it’s you.’ I smiled a little. ‘I recognise your voice.’

‘Someone could have made their voice sound like me. There’s some very sophisticated software out there these days.’

‘Ulysses—’

‘I’ll make a note to get Everett onto it. You can’t be buzzing anyone up to your flat. In fact…’ He sounded as though he was leaning away from the speaker and looking around. ‘This whole building is an utter disgrace security-wise. It’s not good enough, Morgan.’ He sounded louder this time and three thousand times more offended. ‘You need to find somewhere safer.’

‘Since when have you ever been interested in the security of my flat?’

‘Since now,’ he snapped. ‘Are you going to buzz me up?’

‘I didn’t actually agree, you know,’ I reminded him, deciding he needed to have this pointed out. ‘I never said yes.’

‘Well, do you say yes now?’ he asked grumpily.

Amusement soothed my jangling nerves; he did so hate it when he’d made a mistake.

‘What would you do if I didn’t?’ Teasing him was wrong, since he didn’t like it. But I couldn’t help myself.

‘I’d go back to the office, of course.’ He sounded really annoyed now. ‘Stop wasting time, Morgan.’

I was wasting time. And putting off the moment when I said yes. Because I knew, as soon as I let him up into my flat, that would be it. My path would be chosen and there’d be no going back.

But I was already sick of myself and my nerves, so I reached out and hit the button that opened the downstairs door.

And that was when it struck me: I was standing there waiting for him dressed in a pair of my oldest and most comfortable pyjama bottoms, a very baggy and very thin T-shirt, my hair loose and no make-up whatsoever.

Super-sexy.

I debated making a run to the bedroom and finding some decent jeans, or something to wear instead of my PJs, but I hadn’t taken more than a step in that direction before the sound of knocking came from my front door.

Ulysses was already here.

Bugger it.

I took a breath then strode over to the front door and opened it.

And there he was, larger than life and twice as gorgeous, unbearably hot in the dark suit and crisp white shirt he’d been wearing earlier. He had on a red tie today and the splash of colour glowed jewel-bright against the white.

Red for passion, an inane part of my brain whispered to me as his dark gaze collided with mine.

‘There you are.’ His cold voice held a hot note I’d never heard him use before.

Then, before I could say another word, he strode in.

He didn’t pause to look around. He didn’t look around at all. He simply came for me as if I were a prize he’d been waiting for years to claim.

A hot thrill arrowed straight down my spine, a secret part of me finding his intensity unbearably exciting.

He came to a stop bare inches away, tall, dark and utterly compelling. ‘First,’ he said without preamble, ‘We need to discuss the rules.’

My brain had gone into free fall. He was so close, making me very aware of his height, reminding me of that kiss and the heat of his mouth. The clean, fresh bite of his aftershave wove around me, a sharp piny smell that made me think of forests freshly dusted with snow.

‘Rules?’ I echoed blankly. ‘What rules?’

‘It’s very important that we have ground rules and that we both agree on them.’ He frowned slightly. ‘Traffic lights.’

‘Traffic lights? What are you talking about?’

‘Green for “go”. Amber for “keep going but carefully”. Red for “stop”.’

‘I don’t…’

‘Sex,’ he explained. ‘If you don’t like something, say red and I’ll stop. Green for go. Amber for—’

‘Keep going but carefully. Yes, I get it.’ I swallowed, my face getting hot. ‘So we’re getting into it straight away? You don’t want a drink or something first?’

He gave me a look as if it was the strangest question he’d ever heard. ‘No, why would I?’

‘Some girls like a little romance, you know,’ I said tartly, nervous, but annoyed with myself for being nervous.

‘I don’t do romance, Morgan.’

Instantly, I felt bad, because something in his face shut down. Something that had been bright and hot, that I hadn’t realised was there until it had vanished.

Normally he wouldn’t let one of my snarky comments bother him, but he was clearly bothered now. And that told me something: he wanted this. He wanted me.

And I wanted him to want me.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t need romance. I’m just…nervous.’

He regarded me, his black eyes cool. ‘Is that a red?’

‘No.’ I made it as certain as I could. ‘It’s not.’

‘If it’s a red, you need to be clear.’

Of course. If this was a big deal for me, then it was also a big deal for him. He couldn’t read cues easily, which made his need for rules understandable.

‘If it’s a red, you’ll stop,’ I said, less of a question and more a statement of fact.

‘Of course I’ll stop. That’s the whole point of rules. Everyone follows them.’

Which makes him the safest man you’ll ever be with.

The flash of realisation made me blink. Yes, he was safe. He’d never hurt me any way, and his emphasis on rules only cemented that fact.

Where would I find another man safe enough with whom to explore those rough sex fantasies of mine? A man I trusted enough to take care of me? Perhaps I’d never find one. Perhaps I’d never be able to explore the darker corners of my imagination, the forbidden desires I tried never to think about. The ones I barely admitted I wanted even to myself…

It’s him. Or no one.

I shuddered as the truth settled down inside me. And he saw, his black gaze piercing, the bright, hot thing I’d noticed in his eyes before igniting once again.

He took a step closer, now only inches away.

I caught my breath, his physical nearness hitting me like a blow. His height and the broad width of his chest were things I’d never consciously thought of before, but I was thinking about them now. And the heat of his body, warm stone on a hot summer’s day. He’d feel like that too. I knew it. If I put my hand on his chest, it would feel exactly like stone. Unyielding. I wouldn’t be able to push him away even if I wanted to.

He must have read my thoughts, I swear, because he took my hand, lifting it to his chest palm-down and holding it there.

Hot. He was so hot. I could feel that heat through the cotton of his business shirt. And so hard, too. I’d got that right. Exactly like warm stone.

My heartbeat was so loud I couldn’t hear anything else and I felt dizzy.

His gaze on me was an intense pressure. But I couldn’t meet it. Something would happen to me if I did, and I didn’t know what that something would be. I was afraid of it.

He didn’t say anything, only held my hand to his chest, his palm warm on my skin. Then his other hand was on my hip, sliding round to the small of my back, urging me closer, and my heartbeat got even faster. I tried to stand my ground, but he didn’t let me, his strength irresistible, drawing me relentlessly up against him.

I quivered with excitement at that strength, at being pulled to him, even though I tried to resist.

‘Look at me,’ he ordered, a hot, dark note vibrating in his voice. ‘Look at me, Morgan.’

I didn’t want to, afraid of how excited I was. Of how much this whole thing was turning me on.

But then I’d always been afraid of those desires inside me, the ones that made me desperate to be held by a strong man, to fight to get away and yet not be able to. To have him hold me effortlessly and easily and to be overwhelmed by him…

I didn’t want to know why I wanted those things. I didn’t want to know what it was about me that liked it.

You didn’t want life to pass you by. So don’t let it.

That was true. And I wasn’t a coward. I’d endured the fancy boarding school Damian had sent me to, then endured being sent halfway across the world to a city I’d never been to, to do a job I didn’t know anything about, working for a man I’d never met.

And now here was an opportunity to explore something about myself that I’d never had the chance to before. With a man who wouldn’t judge me and who’d keep me safe. Why was I even hesitating?

I lifted my chin and met Ulysses’s gaze.

Blacker than pitch. The kind of black that had weight and heat. Heavy, dense. But not cold. No, not cold any longer.

Still looking down at me, he took one hand in his, then the other one that was resting on his chest, and then, with that same relentless, irresistible strength, he drew them behind my back and held them there, restraining me with pathetic ease.

And he watched me the whole time as my heartbeat accelerated through the roof.

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