Did I want this? A gross boss who was going to constantly chip away at my resolve? Not that I would ever sleep with him, but a formal complaint to HR wasn’t going to do much. He wasn’t going to leave the company. No way. It was his word against mine, every time.

I had to either deal, or quit.

The harsh lighting over the mirror had me wondering why Alan was so interested in me. My hair was a light brown. Mousy. It curled and in the humid air went every which way. I tamed it, pulling it back in a clip, but it always looked as if I’d crawled out of bed. My lipstick was long gone, but I wasn’t going to primp for Alan. He’d notice and get the wrong idea.

My makeup was mild, not much could help my eyes which were wide-set and too large for the rest of my face. My mouth too full. Or so I thought. And my figure. I was a small B-cup; not enough cleavage, not even a handful. Wouldn’t Alan be more interested in harassing Mary from accounting with her full Ds?

I smoothed down my dress, took a few deep breaths to fortify myself.

Leaving the bathroom, I stopped. Froze, actually.

There, leaning against the wall, were the two hotties from the bar.

“Are you all right?” Mr. Big Hands asked. He eyed me, but not like a lech, but with concern.

“Oh, um. Sure,” I replied, giving him a small smile.

“I’m Sam.” He angled his head toward his friend. “He’s Ashe.”

“Hi,” Ashe replied.

I nodded, not sharing my name. Just because they were making my nipples hard and my panties damp, didn’t mean I wasn’t careful. Although nothing about them was sending up red flags on my creep-meter. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“We couldn’t help but notice your date and his roving—”

“He’s not my date,” I countered quickly, cutting him off. “God, no. He’s my boss.”

Both frowned, narrowed their eyes. Sam was about six foot, dark hair, strong brow, clean-shaven square jaw. His white dress shirt showed off his broad shoulders and well-muscled physique. Ashe was a few inches taller, leaner. A Matthew McConaughey lookalike with lighter brown hair, cut longer with a wave to it. Defined cheekbones and close-cropped beard. The two of them ticked off every one of my ‘what made me hot’ boxes. It was instant, intense and made my mind wander to dark and slightly naughty places.

While we weren’t the only people in the hallway—a few other patrons moved past us to the restrooms and the din from the main seating area was a reminder we weren’t far from others—I felt as if we were all alone. Their focus was on me, only me.

“Boss? And he touches you like that?” Ashe asked. “Unless you want it, but based on your reactions, it doesn’t seem like you do.”

“Him?” I laughed. “No, I don’t want him.”

I want you. Both of you with whipped cream and a cherry on top. Maybe just the whipped cream.

“Then leave,” Ashe added.

“I’d love to duck out, but he is my boss and I’ll have to see him at the office tomorrow. And, my briefcase is back at the table,” I added the last, suddenly remembering. Crap.

“Sounds like it’s time to buy a new briefcase,” Sam said.

I smiled, then laughed. They smiled, too, as if we’d shared a small secret. “Maybe. I’ll make my excuses, although I would like him to consider my product line we’d talked about.”

When they both watched me with interested expressions, I waved my hand through the air, shrugging off my comments. These two didn’t need to hear about my work. “I’m used to it. To him. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re not nothing.”

My mouth fell open at the vehemence in Ashe’s tone, the way Sam shook his head in agreement. “Oh, um, well, that’s sweet.”

It really was.

“We’re not always sweet.” Sam’s words were like a promise, a dark one, and I shifted on my heels, rubbing my thighs together. I could only imagine how not-sweet he could be. Whispering dirty words in my ear as he held my hips and fucked me from behind? Tangling his fingers in my hair as he held my face still so he could fuck my mouth? Grip my ankles as he held them at his shoulders as he slid in and out of my pussy with his big cock?

Oh yeah, I had no doubt they could be not-sweet.

“We can beat him up for you.”

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