Dirty Boss (Dirty Rich 2)

"But—"

"Don't be stubborn. This is none of your business. You shouldn't have asked."

"But Nick. You're upset. You don't have to talk to me as your co-worker, but we are friends... Aren't we?"

"Yes."

Somehow, it sounds like no. Like go away. Like this is my burden to carry and I don't want your help.

There's so much pain in his expression, but he's locking me out. Every impulse in my body is begging me to wipe that pain away. To kiss him, or stroke his hair, or whisper in his ear that it's going to be okay.

I never want to do that. I don't even know how to comfort someone. I tried and failed a few times when Kat was upset.

But I do know how to resist another person's comfort. I know how it looks. And right now, Nick is resisting help.

Which should be fine. If this relationship really is casual. If we really are fuck buddies.

I tap my fingers against my skirt. I take a few bites of my food, but it doesn't have any taste. I don't want it anymore.

It's not fine.

He's next to me, but he's not here. He's off somewhere in his head.

I've been through that with so many other people. But not with him. Not anymore.

Sitting next to him and feeling alone is too hard.

I stand and smooth my skirt. "Excuse me. I have to make a call. I should go. Thank you for lunch, but I'm not feeling very hungry."

"Lizzy—"

"You want to be alone. I'm not going to intrude."

He stares back at me, a wall of stone again. "I'll see you at seven to check your work."

I give him ten seconds to tell me I'm wrong, to ask me to stay.

He doesn't.

Chapter Twelve

I make a lunch out of the snacks in the break room and throw myself into programming. There's plenty to do. It holds my attention.

At seven on the dot, Nick arrives at my desk to check my work. We're the only people here. The lights are off.

He's calm and aloof. "Are you all right?"

"Nothing I won't get over." Eventually. I clear my throat. "Do you need me here for this?"

"Yes." His posture hardens. He turns to the screen and points out half a dozen errors. "This part is good. You can finish it tomorrow."

"Thank you. Have a great night." I find my coat hanging off the back of my chair and go to put it on.

Nick helps me into it. His eyes meet mine, but he doesn't say anything.

At home, I shove my furniture aside, roll out my yoga mat, and stream an extra fast vinyasa video. I push myself too hard. My back will pay for it soon. I can't help it. I need the release from my thoughts.

It hurts seeing Nick in pain.

Much more than it should.

There's a knock on my door. Must be a neighbor who needs something.

I wipe the sweat from my brow and make my way to the door. "Yes?"

"I'd like to speak with you."

Nick.

I pull the door open. "Why?"

His eyes go to my exposed stomach. They scan my body slowly.

Nerves build in my stomach. I love the way he's looking at me. I can't help it.

"Can I come in?" His voice is even.

"Sure." I motion for him to follow and plant on my bed.

Nick makes eye contact. "I'm sorry."

I swallow hard. "You are?"

"Yes. I appreciate that you want to help."

"Really?"

He nods. "But there's nothing anyone can do. I have a one-third stake in the company. The other owners don't need my permission to sell. I should have explained that."

I pat the spot on the bed next to me. "You really hate losing control, huh?"

"Yes." He sits next to me.

"Is that why you're into BDSM?"

"I'd rather not discuss it right now."

"I'm glad I'm not your girlfriend. I bet I'd hear those words every single day."

"Probably." He pulls me into his lap. "I'd like to make it up to you. To take you somewhere tomorrow night."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

"You have to give me a hint if you want me to agree."

"You'll get a chance to test your life philosophy."

"That's the worst hint I've ever heard."

He wraps his arms around my waist. "You'll have the chance to take a risk."

"That's ten percent better."

He smiles. "I should let you get on with your night."

But he doesn't leave. He pulls me closer. He presses his lips against my neck. My cheek. My lips.

God, he tastes good.

When the kiss breaks, I stare into his eyes. There's that same loneliness, like it hurt him that he couldn't talk to me.

It hits somewhere deep. I don't like seeing him lonely. It's too familiar. Too painful.

"Why don't you stay?" I ask. "We can have dinner and watch the second Terminator movie. It's better than the first one."

He looks around my room like he's afraid of intruding. Nick's never loved anyone. Is it possible he's never spent the night in a woman's apartment doing anything besides fucking?

"I have to shower," I say. "But otherwise, you're welcome."

"Okay."

"Okay." I smile much wider than I mean to. "Do you want to order dinner or do you want a cheese sandwich?"

"I'll order something spicy."

We feast on extra-spicy Chinese food on my floor. Hot and sour soup, Kung pao chicken, stir-fried green beans. It's authentic—just the right amount of oil and salt. Not like the rich people, healthy takeout food my sister likes.

After dinner, we watch Terminator 2: Judgment Day. There's nowhere to sit except my bed.

Nick places his body behind mine, his legs around my hips, his chest against my back.

There are way more car crashes in the movie than I remembered. I close my eyes and lean into his body. He pulls me closer. He strokes my hair.

He's so warm.

Soft and hard at once.

Even though he's in his suit, he's not stiff or awkward. He's comfortable. It's been so long since anything has felt this comfortable, this safe.

I keep my eyes closed as I melt into his arms. I shouldn't fall asleep like this, but I can't bring myself to resist it...

I wake up in the dark. There's a weight shifting on the bed. Nick. He's leaving. The TV is off.

"Did you finish the movie?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Wasn't it sweet, at the end?"

He nods.

"I'm sorry I called you a robot. You didn't deserve that."

"Yes, I did." He kisses me. "Good night, Lizzy."

"Good night, Nick."

Chapter Thirteen

I wake up to a text message from Nick.

Nick: I left a package at the front desk of your building. I'll pick you up at 8:00. We leave at 8:30.

Lizzy: What do we do with those thirty minutes?

Nick: You're not subtle.

Lizzy: Give me a break. I just woke up. Let me try again. Are you going to spend those thirty minutes fucking me?

Nick: No.

I send him a frowning-face emoji.

Nick: Do you know what my mom said whenever she saw me frowning?

Lizzy: "Don't cry. One day you'll be a billionaire."

Nick: "Don't pout. You'll get wrinkles."

Lizzy: Didn't work. You frown all the time.

Nick: I will fuck you tonight. After.

That earns him one smiley-face emoji. I leave my phone on my desk and hightail it downstairs. Sure enough, there's a package for me. The doorman hands it over with a knowing smile.

I smile back despite my urge to tell him to mind his own business.

It's hard to feel upset when my head is dreaming up all sorts of beautiful images to go with Nick's promise.

There are so many possibilities. He could fuck me here, or in his apartment, or in the office, or wherever it is we're going.

The package is not the

most helpful clue. It's a purple cocktail dress and a lingerie set in the same shade of amethyst. Seamless bra and skimpy thong panties. Both are soft silk.

It's sexy.

But what the hell does it mean?

There's a knock on the door at exactly 8 PM.

Nick.

"Just a minute." I throw off my lounging clothes, slip into the matching purple bra and panty set, and answer the door.

Nick looks damn handsome in his sleek black suit. Better with his eyes wide.

Somehow, there's no surprise in his expression. He's cool, collected.

He steps inside, shutting the door behind him.

His hands go to my ass. He lifts me and presses me against the wall. All that heat of his body melts into mine.