Dirty Boss (Dirty Rich 2)

"There is fine. I'm really tired, so I'll see you tomorrow." I find the bed, get under the covers, and lose the underwear.

He's still standing there.

"Nick, I'm not going to be able to sleep if you're standing there watching me. It's strange."

He doesn't leave.

He locks the door, strips to his boxers, and gets in bed next to me.

I say nothing. I'm speechless over how good his body feels against mine.

How much calmer I feel with his arms around me.

How much warmer the bed is with him here.

Chapter Fifteen

In the morning, he's gone.

I spend the day with Kat, but my thoughts are with Nick.

She asks me what's wrong a dozen times.

Every time, I lie and say it's nothing.

I hate lying to her.

Monday, I arrive at work at eight on the dot. There are bagels and coffee on Nick's desk, like everything is normal.

Our two hours together are intense and they're focused exclusively on programming. When we're finished, he leaves for a meeting.

I stay busy. I drown my thoughts in work.

There's a change in the atmosphere today. People are talking about something juicy.

Sitting in the break room listening to Gabriel and David whisper does nothing to make my homemade sandwich more appealing. I pull the crust off my bread while I eavesdrop.

"Second month in a row he's flown to SFO. What else could he be doing on those trips?" Gabriel talks with his mouth full.

"I'm sure it's a woman."

"Nah, Marlowe would fly the girl to a hotel here. He's got plenty of pussy in New York. Why would he go three thousand miles for more?" Gabriel looks past me, to Jasmine's desk.

I drop my sandwich.

They glance at me then turn back to their conversation with knowing smiles. I'm next to Jasmine on the list of women in New York who Nick can fuck.

Which means they don't know that I am fucking him.

That's a good thing.

But the rest of their conversation is far from reassuring.

David's voice breaks my concentration. "I hope Tech Edge is right. I've been trying to find an excuse to move to San Jose."

I load the Tech Edge homepage on my phone. It's right there—Google Poised to Buy the Next Siri.

The article is conjecture. There's only one decent fact in it—the owners of Odyssey Industries are fielding offers for their AI virtual assistant software.

Rushed footsteps break my concentration. A woman's high heels and a man's dress shoes.

I turn and there are Nick and Jasmine, whispering on their way to his office. I wait until they pass then duck behind a desk to listen.

"I'll call a meeting, but I'm not lying to anyone here." She folds her arms over her chest, not shy about confronting him. "The story broke two hours ago."

"Are you gossiping?"

"Phoenix, you'll know if I'm gossiping. You'll feel the stares on your back as everyone wonders how many—"

"You made your point."

She leans in, lowering her voice. "He's left three messages already. If you meet with him, apologize about last year—"

"Out of the question."

"You have no control over this. You know what he's like."

His voice is soft. "You don't need to—"

"This is my job. I shouldn't have taken it if I can't handle corresponding with one of the co-owners." She adjusts her cardigan. "Prepare a statement for the staff. I'll set a meeting for two o'clock."

"Thank you."

"Nick, I..."

My stomach twists. I don't like their familiarity.

"He flew in today." She bites her lip. "I'm sorry. I should have forwarded the call to you, but you were with Miss Wilder and I know... how much those mornings mean to you."

"It's fine."

They share a look of understanding. I hate it. I hate everything about it.

Jasmine turns back to her desk. Her eyes connect with mine then go to the floor.

"Miss Wilder." Nick's voice booms. "Can I speak with you?"

His eyes bore into me. His brow is furrowed. His jaw is clenched. He's angry, but that can't all be directed at me. Not for something as trivial as eavesdropping.

"Now."

I press my hands to my sides. "Of course." Five steps and I'm in Nick's office, the door closed behind me.

He stands three feet away from me. His expression gets intense. "Lock the door."

"What?"

"Do I need to explain?"

His intention is right there in his eyes.

He stares back at me, challenging me. I take a deep breath, willing my judgment to kick in.

Maybe he does need to explain. I don't know what he wants from me.

But whatever it is, I want it too.

I lock the door.

Nick points to the couch. "Sit down."

I do.

"Unbutton your blouse."

"What are you—"

"Now."

I undo my buttons one at a time.

His expression is half-frustration, half-desire.

"Are you going to explain what's going on here?" I ask. "With the company?"

"Soon."

"To me?"

"Yes." He sits on the couch next to me. He's not patient today. He cups my breast over my bra. The lace fabric rubs against my nipples, rough and soft all at once.

"You keep wearing the lingerie I bought you." His touch hardens. "Is this what you were hoping would happen?" He brings his lips to my neck.

My eyes flutter closed and the rest of the room fades away. My world is Nick–his teeth, his hands, his breath.

"I asked you a question," he groans.

"Yes."

Nick removes my glasses. He sets them on the arm of the couch and grabs my knees.

He pulls me over his lap, so I'm on my stomach, my face pressed against the couch cushion. His fingers trail over the backs of my tights.

"Nick," I breathe. "What are you doing?"

He rolls my skirt to my waist. "If you want me to stop, say the word."

My skin buzzes from his touch. I'm already keyed up, but there are too many different feelings whirring around my brain. "Is this a punishment?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"I need to feel you submitting." He peels the tops of my tights over my ass and down my thighs. "If you want something else, tell me to stop."

My sex clenches.

No. He can't stop. Not now.

I press my hands into the cushion. "Are you going to fuck me?"

"Tonight."

"Am I going to come?"

"If you're quiet."

Nick drags his fingers over my thighs. He adjusts me so my ass is hanging off his legs, like I'm waiting to be spanked.

Fuck. I am waiting to be spanked.

Desire collects between my legs. He has such a hold on me. How is that possible?

He teases me, dragging his fingertips over my skin. They trace the outline of my thong from one hip to the other then back again.

He presses his palm against my sex, over my panties. "God dammit, Lizzy. You're dripping."

I swallow hard.

"You like being spanked?"

"Yes."

He lets out a low groan.

Nick brings one hand to my lips. He drags his thumb over my lower lip, that same gentle, tender movement that really makes me believe he cares about me.

I press my eyelids together. How can it feel so caring, him bending me over his knee to spank me?

He slides his fingers into my mouth. "Suck on me if you want to scream."

He's teasing me again.

God, how he teases.

Without warning, his hand makes contact with my flesh. It's more of a tap than a smack. I suck on his fingers to keep from begging.

He hits me again. Harder. The sting of pain reverberates all the way to my mouth. I suck harder.

When that's not enough, I bite him.

He groans as he hits me again.

His hand is inches above my sex and I'm throbbing, desperate for him to touch me.

Tonight. Not now. Not soon, but tonight.

How am I supposed to wait that long?

A knock on the door interrupts.

Jasmine's voice is muffled by the door. "Mr. Marlowe, I need to speak with you. Whenever you're... finished. Take your time. Sorry about the intrusion."

There's this awkward tone to her voice.

She knows what we're doing.