Hard For My Boss - Page 124
He leans into me, clasping my hand. Yes, we’re holding hands. I know. Who am I, right? “I’m jumpy, too. I want to jump on you.”
I smirk, feeling the inevitable tickle of excitement chase its way up my neck—the tickle that always leads to a night of hot sex. “Can’t you contain yourself until we get home?”
“I know why you’re jumpy,” Ben decides. “It’s because we both have next week off, we’re heading to our spot in Cancún so you can get your pretty butt pampered the way you like, and you know it’s our anniversary next Friday, so—”
“You make me sound like such a damned princess.”
“Prince,” he corrects me. “And you are.” He reaches around to give my ass a firm, aggressive squeeze. I melt whenever he does that. The way he grabs my butt is so “this is mine”, like he wants to remind me of exactly what he plans to do to it later.
I am so his. And I’ve been totally his for four years.
Of course, his own beefy butt, swollen biceps, chiseled jaw, brilliant eyes, and plump lips are all mine. So it goes both ways.
Before we even enter our home, Lancelot is already scratching excitedly from the other side of the door. When we open it, both of us are tackled by the eager dog and all his pent-up, face-licking excitement. This happens every day now, by the way.
“Dinnertime!” I announce as I finish plating Lance’s meal on a dish, which I serve at his spot at the table. Ben was adamant about Lance being served at the table like a member of the family—our son, in many ways—and not in a bowl on the floor. I was quick to embrace it, since Lance and I have all but become best dog-and-human buddies. And really, I’ve come to love him just as much.
Speaking of dogs, my phone dances on the counter with a call. As it rings, I watch Ben go up the stairs while slowly stripping off his clothes, leaving a deliberate trail that ends with him naked at the top, slowly sauntering to the bathroom—and knowing full well he has my complete and undivided attention. What a cock tease.
I bite my lip, hard in an instant, then pick up the phone and decide to deal with the call quickly. “What is it, Elijah??” I blurt.
“Whoa, bro. Really? Did I interrupt you giving Ben an enema or something?”
“Just about,” I answer, impatient to rush upstairs and join Ben in the shower, which is where I assume he’s gone. “What do you need? Be quick. Ben’s naked. This only happens four times a day.”
“I’ll be so in-and-out quick, you won’t know who the daddy is.” He clears his throat. “Basically, we’re pregnant again.”
I gape. “Oh my God. Are you serious??”
“I know, I know. Ashlee and I already got our hands full with number one—our noisemaker Emma—and now we’re popping out another. We’re gonna be a family of twelve by Christmas.”
“That’s … not even physically possible.”
“Shush with you and your smarty-smartness,” he fires back. “Speaking of Ben and giving him enemas for the rest of your life. When are you two gonna finally … y’know? It’s been four years, bro. You’ve waited long enough.”
I glance back at Lance, who’s still innocently chomping down his meal at the table. “Don’t jinx it.”
“Jinx what? Hey, dude, tell me I’m gonna be your best man. I’ll throw you the biggest, gayest-ass bachelor party …”
“Nah, Lancelot is my best man. You’ll be my ring bearer.”
Elijah chuckles. “You’re such a dick.”
I find myself overcome suddenly with all that’s happened over the years. Elijah and Ashlee’s wedding and the unexpected early birth of their daughter Emma. Getting my dream job and the man of my dreams. Benjamin and his overwhelming list of A-list clients brought on by his totally-doesn’t-give-two-fucks approach—inspired by the unapologetic now-twenty-something Hawk. Rebekah and her opening of a new firm in California.
Ben also finally got a unique surprise in the form of meeting a very peculiar woman friend of his for the very first time. I wasn’t really sure who she was, but she wore a face-swallowing scarf, huge sunglasses, and a sunhat that could provide shade for a small country. When she got a look at me, the only thing she said to Ben was, “No wonder you had the ants in your pants about this pretty boy,” in her thick German accent. Then she poked him in the ribs and added, “I bet you go through ten bottles of chocolate syrup in a week with this one.”
I still have no idea what she meant by that, but it made Ben laugh so hard that even the stoic, strange woman seemed to smile with her eyes, twinkling happily that they finally got to meet.
I even had the pleasure of meeting Ben’s parents, who took to me rather well, considering Ben doesn’t think too highly of them. But I like to believe that after my meeting his family and pushing Ben to reconcile with them, their relationship is now stronger. Maybe he was inspired after meeting my own family—especially my mother, who basically treats him like a second son now.
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