Daphne Vs. Daddy

Mr. Billionaire Boss thinks that he’s going to own me? Well, you wanna know what I say? Let the buyer beware…

So what if he has more money than God?

So what that he’s so handsome that he can halt New York City traffic as people stop to stare at him.

At those gorgeous eyes, that ripped physique, and that huge bulge in his pants that can only be his…wait, can it even be THAT big?

Whatevs. As he’s getting admired, I’m stealing his cab. Sorry, bub. This is the big city. You snooze, you lose. Right?

Wrong.

Because Apollo Kane is more than just some hapless New Yorker who lost a cab to me.

He’s my new boss. Oh no!

That only leaves one thing unanswered…

How badly is he gonna punish me?

And how much am I gonna like it?

*** It’s the cute single girl versus the Big Bad Boss in this second installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, sexy, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. Happy Ending? Always, babe ***

111

Ashley

I wake up slowly, surfacing in a groggy fog. My head is pounding and I’m not sure if I want to be awake, but there’s some reason…

Something I need to…

There’s this nagging worry at the back of my mind…What the fuck am I worried about?

I shoot up in bed, shoving my hair out of my eyes. The guy lying next to me—Mike? Dave? Troy?—is snoring away.

“Wake up,” I say, shaking his shoulder.

“Wha…?” he asks blearily.

“I have to go to work,” I say, swinging my legs out of bed, heading for my bathroom, “and you need to get out of my apartment.”

“Oh,” he says, disappointed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Are you sure you aren’t up for a little morning fucking?”

I poke my head around the corner of the bathroom and glare daggers at him. “I am late,” I say, enunciating every word, “and you need to g

et the fuck out of my apartment. Pronto.” I run through a sponge bath that barely covers the basics, and then hit my closet. I rummage through my clothes, trying to find something that I can throw together that won't look like I threw it together.

Morning fucking. Is he fucking with me right now? I brought him home last night, hoping to finally get some, but nope, he just fell asleep on me, too drunk out of his mind to fuck. Now my six-month itch is six-months-and-one-day old, and I have to go to work horny.

Again.

I peek my head around the corner, making sure he's moving his ass, and he is.

Slowly.

I consider throwing a shoe at him to hurry things along, but then decide to hold back.

For the moment. I’m not above chucking the shoe if need be. A nice stiletto would get his attention, right?