Baby for the Bosshole

“And on the eighth day, after a nice little rest, God created the weekend.”

“Am I going to have free weekends?” I ask sarcastically.

“Thankfully, I control your assignments.” He smiles.

And it’ll only be for a few weekends. Probably not worth an argument. “Fine.”

“Good.” He smiles. “Now that we’ve settled that, move in with me.”

“What? No!”

“Why not?”

“Gifts and dates doesn’t mean moving in together!”

“How are we going to spend time together if you’re there”—he gestures in the general direction of my place—“and I’m there?” He gestures elsewhere—probably where his place is. “I don’t want to limit our time to just weekends.”

“That’s not the point,” I say, feeling like I’m talking to a brick wall. The man’s smart, but when he’s got an idea in his head, it’s impossible to budge him. So I go for the argument that might make a dent. “And even if I were willing to move in with you, I room with Sasha. She would know.”

He sighs a must-I-come-up-with-all-the-solutions? sigh. “Tell her you’re moving in with your boyfriend.”

I have to laugh. “Emmett, get real. She knows I broke up with Rick. Nobody moves in with a rebound the next day.”

“Sure they do, if their rebound can reignite their libido the way I can. I know that equine ex-boyfriend of yours gutted your sex drive.”

I’m not discussing Rick’s effect on my sex drive with Emmett, mainly because he’s right, and I refuse to concede any point. You give an inch; he takes a mile. “It doesn’t matter what you say. The answer is a big, fat no. To use your word, it’s non-negotiable.”

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment. “I guess I’ll need to open a satellite office in Alaska and send Sasha there…”

I choke back another laugh, then shake my head. “Even if you do, my answer won’t change.”

He shakes his head. “Fine. Then can you at least come to my place? Or do I need to get a separate love nest just for us?”

“Your place is fine.”

Chapter Seventeen

Emmett

Amy seems to be into privacy, so it’s a good thing I live in a mansion. Still, part of me is annoyed that she refused to move in, because that would’ve made things easier. It isn’t like we’re strangers. We’ve known each other for almost two years now! That has to count for something.

From the way she reacted, she doesn’t want me to show up at her apartment, either, since she doesn’t want Sasha to know that we’re sleeping together. Irritating. We pay more than enough for our associates to get their own places.

I’ll see if I can do something about that later. For now, all I can think about is Amy. How nice she smells. How relaxed she seems after the massage. How she’s smiling more easily.

My dick’s so hard it’s painful. But this isn’t the time to hurry. I need to do my due diligence and find all the spots that drive her crazy.

I steer past the gates, secured by codes, and cruise through the green garden with topiaries of animals I inherited from the previous owner. When we reach the main entrance, I kill the engine, and she’s already out of the car.

Trying to conceal how pounce-ready I am, I walk over and open the door to the sprawling two-story structure for her. She breathes out, “Wow,” as she looks around. I guess the place is impressive enough. I wouldn’t know how it looks from a woman’s point of view, since I’ve never brought one home. My mother doesn’t count.

No time for a tour, though. Later, when the beastly lust is quenched.

“Come here.” I pull Amy into my arms and claim her mouth. It’s soft and sweet, tastes faintly of lemon and ginger. And is one hundred percent pure Amy. Infuriating, smart, cocky, determined, driven… Everything I like about her.

I thread my fingers into her warm, silken hair, cradling the curve of her head. I skim my free hand down her body, breast to flank to the flaring curve of her butt.

She responds like she can’t get enough of me. Our tongues glide past each other, then tangle. My breathing grows louder and rougher; she plunges her hands into my hair, gripping my head for a deeper kiss. A small moan tears from her.