Dirty Boss (Dirty Rich 2)

All his attention shifts to Kat. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a long, deep hug. She sighs, her face lighting up as she smiles.

"I missed you," she whispers.

"I missed you too."

It's a personal moment, and I'm clearly intruding. There's nowhere to get out of the way, so I step into the bathroom with a loud "excuse me" then wash the hints of makeup off my face.

When I return to the main room, they're locked in that same hug.

Kat steps back. "I'm not convincing you to pick more of my movies."

"You can still have the next one." I hug her goodbye then turn my attention to Blake. "Let me handle that thing we discussed."

"If you can't—"

"I can." I walk them to the door. "There's only two months until your wedding. Worry about that."

Kat's eyes light up. She looks at Blake with a wealth of affection. The wall of stone is gone. His expression is caring, loving.

It's sickeningly sweet.

"Goodnight." I wave.

They nod goodnight and walk out the door hand in hand.

I plant in front of my computer and try to dig up more information about Nick's company.

There's nothing useful.

I'll have to ask him.

Chapter Eleven

Sleep eludes me. I get up early, do an extra-long yoga session, shower, and go straight to the office.

I'm a few minutes early but Nick is here, standing behind his desk, attention on his computer.

"Good morning." His voice is even, like I'm any other coworker.

Like we didn't sleep together.

"Good morning." I fix my cup of coffee and tear my bagel into quarters.

The door to the office is closed but not locked. This is supposed to be professional.

I'm supposed to stand here for two hours, every morning, as if I don't want him to tie me to his bed.

It's impossible.

But it's the only option.

"Is something on your mind, Miss Wilder?" He pulls up our work for the day and motions for me to take a spot behind the computer.

There's so much on my mind. I push Blake's warning aside. I need to figure out how to handle this before I start bringing up things that will push Nick.

My mind flashes with the memory of him undoing the buttons of his oxford shirt.

He's wearing the same style of shirt today. The same cologne.

I clear my throat. "Nothing interesting." I scan the code on screen. "What are we working on today?"

"Debugging. How much experience do you have?"

A lot. I focus on my expertise, blocking out everything that is not one hundred percent about programming. I still feel a rush of heat when Nick's hand brushes against my side, but otherwise, I'm just an intern, and he's just a mentor.

It's the same all week. I try to talk myself into asking about the sale on my way to work. I chicken out the second I see Nick.

He's strictly business, all calm and aloof like it's easy for him to keep things separate. Not so much for me. I collapse when I get home from work. I can barely manage to make dinner or watch TV.

Friday, I'm antsy. It takes every last ounce of strength to keep my hands to myself.

By ten, I'm out of energy. I gather my things, debating whether I'll drink the shit coffee in the kitchen or take twenty minutes to get a vanilla latte at the place across the street.

Nick's eyes bore into me. There's an intention in his gaze, and it's more than professional.

Vanilla latte wins.

"Are you okay, Miss Wilder?" he asks.

"Do we have to go by last names at the office?"

"It makes it easier to keep things separate." He moves close enough to touch me. "There's something bothering you. Business or personal?"

"Some of each."

"Which is more pressing?"

"Business."

His gaze goes to the clock on the wall. "I have a conference call. Come back here for lunch. I'll schedule our takeout for twelve-thirty, but I want you here at noon."

"To talk?"

"No."

Oh. I consider playing coy, but it's really not my strong suit. "Is half an hour enough time?"

"Not as much as I'd like." His eyes flash with determination. "But I'll make sure you come at least twice."

My cheeks flush. I've got no response to that besides "hell yes." I nod a goodbye and reach for the door. "Of course, Mr. Marlowe. I look forward to it."

Suddenly, I don't need the coffee anymore. I'm wide awake.

At five minutes to noon, I walk to Nick's office with all the confidence I can muster.

The door is open enough that I can see inside.

He's sitting behind his desk. No jacket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

His eyes connect with mine. He motions come here.

I step inside. There's no food on his desk. No plates or silverware.

I can do this. "I have to ask you something."

"After. Lock the door." His eyes flash with desire.

When we're together, alone, with the door locked—

I stare back at him. "It's important."

"We'll talk about it after."

There's something in his expression. Not just desire, but need too. He needs me.

God knows I want him to touch me. It's been agony acting professional all week.

I press the door closed and click the lock shut.

His voice is a command. "Take off your dress."

I unzip my dress and slide it off my shoulders.

It falls at my feet.

His eyes pass over my body slowly, like he's taking in all the details. His pupils dilate. His lips part.

God, desire looks so good on him.

This conversation can wait. I need more of that look. I reach for my bra and unhook it.

Nick's voice gets rough. "Not until I ask." He slides out of his seat, his eyes still glued to me. He moves closer. Close enough to touch. His fingertips skim the side of my hip. They tug at the straps of my garter belt. "You wear this for me?"

I nod. "You haven't touched me all week."

"Did you expect me to undress you?"

I shake my head. "No, I never know what you're going to do. But I hoped you would. I thought about it last night."

"You touched yourself?"

My cheeks flush. I nod.

He drags his hand up my side and traces the outline of my bra. It's the nicest one I own, after the ones he gave me.

He unhooks my bra and peels it off. His eyes go wide as he plays with my nipples. "Did you do it fast or did you take your time?"

"I didn't think about it like that."

His touch gets rougher. "From now on, you make it last as long as possible."

He's telling me how to masturbate? It should bother me that he's trying to command such a private aspect of my life.

But it doesn't.

I want to do what he says. I want to please him.

How can I want so badly to please him?

I meet his gaze. "How will you know?"

He pinches my nipple. The pain shoots straight to my core.

I press my knees together. Dig my heels into the floor.

"I'll know." He brings his hand to my chin. "If you lie to me this is over."

"What if you lie to me?"

"You can end this relationship at any time." He runs his thumb over my lower lip. "But I won't lie to you."

I stare into his eyes. This is important. "Do you promise?"

"Yes." He pulls off my glasses and sets them on his desk. "I care about you. I don't want to hurt you."

His eyes are so honest. I believe him, believe that he'll never lie to me.

I never trust anyone but Kat, and I believe him.

The question bubbles up in my gut. It's this wall between us and I can't stand it. I know him better than I did a month ago, but it's not enough to trust him this deeply.

To think about him this often.

Nick runs his hand through my hair and undoes my bun. "What are you thinking?"

I bite my tongue. Nick doesn't get to know every thought in my brain, but I want us to be on the same page here. "I care about you too. It scares me how much I care about you."

"Lizzy, I can't offer you—"

"I know. I don't expect you to... I don't want a boyfriend." But I do want him. As much of him as I can get.

I swallow the thought. I can't get mixed up over Nick. This is casual. It will end sooner rather than later. I'll lose him sooner rather than later.

He stares back into my eyes, running his fingers through my hair.

His mouth opens like he's going to speak but he says nothing.

Nick leans closer. Six inches. Close enough to kiss me.

My eyes flutter closed.

I wait.

Our lips connect.

It's fast, rough, electric. His tongue slides into my mouth. His hands dig into my ass, pulling my body into his.

He's hard. I shift my hips for a better feel. God, he's so fucking hard.

His touch kindles a fire inside me. Heat spreads through my torso, to my limbs.

My legs go weak.