Mr. Bossy Devil (Alphalicious Billionaires Boss 2)

Just. Fucking. Done.

Correction.

My dick is done. Seriously done.

My happy stick becomes really, really happy in my pants.

Yes, that’s right. It happens.

As soon as I figure out I’m not going to be able to hold out, I try and pretend like everything is normal, but have you ever tried to maintain a normal face when you’re in the middle of coming? I think not. I can’t control my body’s reaction. My muscles tremble, and my hips jack forward. Back. Forward. Back. All the while thrusting as Zoe grinds against me. A low, feral groan escapes my throat, and my eyes close. Something black fills up the room, and I nearly panic because I can’t see the flashlight Zoe dropped on the floor, but then bright colors burst behind my closed eyes, and I might as well be seeing fucking unicorns and dancing donkeys in tutus.

I might have been able to pass it off as just being extra excited, but then Zoe freezes. She wriggles back an inch, and I know she felt it—the wetness. Because it’s been a while, and when I come, I really make sure I do it right. Also, I think that might have just been the hardest I’ve ever come in my entire fucking life. Not just with no stimulation. Ever.

There’s a massive, wet stain spreading across my jeans. My jeans are light and faded, so they really show wetness. It looks a little bit like I peed my pants, except we both know it’s not pee.

“Did you just…” Zoe leaps off my lap, and horror is etched all over her face.

How exactly does one salvage a situation like this? I wouldn’t know because I’ve never had anything like this happen to me before. I go for comedy, of course, because humor makes everything better, right?

“Would it be any better if I said I peed myself in excitement?”

Zoe gives me a stony glare and slowly crosses her arms. I guess there are a few things humor can’t fix.

“You know what?” Zoe fumes. “You disgust me.”

“That’s a given. I’m a dude. You used to tell me this at least four times a week back when we lived in the same house.”

“That’s because you used to pee all over the toilet seat since you were too lazy to put it up like a decent person and put it back down so that no one fell in.”

“That’s because my mom legitimately did fall in, and she yelled at me for ten minutes straight after about how it feels like falling into the toilet at three in the morning when she was half asleep. It scarred me for life, and there was no way I was taking a chance on forgetting.”

“So, you just pissed all over the thing instead? Because that was so much better.”

“There were maybe two or three times I missed a little.”

Zoe glances pointedly at my crotch. “Like tonight. I can’t believe you…that…” She throws her hands up and lets out a sigh that could very well shake the walls. “Why am I even standing here having this conversation? I have no idea why I just…uh…that was a horrible mistake, and it will never, ever, be repeated or spoken of. Ever. It proves what a huge mistake even coming here was. And for the record, I’m drunk.”

“But not that drunk.”

“Argh!” Zoe stalks over, grabs her purse, and throws it over her shoulder. “See you never. Stay the heck out of my life. I’m quitting, and that’s final.”

“But you lost at rock, paper, scissors.” Of course, that’s the most mature thing I can think of to say.

Then again, I’m still sitting here on the couch in the semi-darkness, with the only light coming from my phone’s flashlight because Zoe shut hers off and tossed it into her purse already. I’m buzzed on whisky and buzzed on her, the obvious causes of what happened in my pants.

“That’s the real reason you asked me here tonight, isn’t it? Because you wanted to get your rocks off and probably use it to blackmail me too. Lucky for me, you didn’t plan on the power outage and your cameras going down.”

“What cameras? Oh. You think I filmed the whole thing?” Because I’m seriously a bastard—which I just basically figured out tonight before I held out some hope—I let out a snort of surprised laughter. “Only you would think of something like that.”

“And only you would threaten to fire everyone I work with just because I quit.”

“Maybe.”

“What’s maybe about that?” Zoe’s giving me a death glare, but her eyes are kind of crossed since they’re so narrow, and she has to look down her nose and sideways at me, so it’s ruining the effect. I very nearly laugh again, which would be ungentlemanly, so I do my best to hold it back.

“Maybe I just wanted to invite you here to catch up, just like I said.”