My boss is teaching me to be bolder in the boardroom…and the bedroom.
I’m not bold enough to take over my father’s company, but I’ve sworn to do whatever it takes to learn. Even if it means working for Jameson Stone, the billionaire CEO of Craze Advertising, who’s as hard and unmovable as his name implies. He tells me to demand what I want instead of backing down, something I’ve always struggled with—in the boardroom and the bedroom. There are things I want to try, things I’ve only read in my romance novels, but have been too afraid to ask for.
When my boldness lessons turn into foreplay lessons, it’s nearly impossible not to fall, and if I’m not careful, I’ll end up losing everything I’ve worked for to a man who’ll always choose business over me.
A hot and hilarious standalone romantic comedy about a woman who gets in way over her head with her sexy billionaire CEO boss. Guaranteed HEA!
At the knock on the door, I groaned, not wanting to deal with one more thing. Only when I called out for whoever it was to come in, Kat stepped through the door. Suddenly every part of me was alert and ready to go.
The click of the lock as she engaged it made my heart thump hard in my chest.
“Here’s how this is going to work…” She reached over and tugged the cord that closed the blinds. Then she undid the top button on her shirt. “There’s no touching at work, we made that rule.”
“You made that rule,” I said, and she paused her attempt to undo the next button.
“Are you arguing with me? Because then I’ll just go.” She spun and took a step toward the door.
“Okay, no touching and no arguing.” That came out way too desperate, but right now I felt pretty fucking desperate. “Now turn around and finish what you started.”
She slowly turned back around and tilted her head like she was thinking real hard about it.
“Jameson.” A wicked smile curved her deceptively sweet lips. She came closer, undoing a button with each step and then she slipped the shirt off and let it fall to the floor.
I stared, unabashedly, taking in every detail, from her overflowing breasts to whatever those things were that was holding the sexy thing together—I hadn’t gotten nearly a good enough look at them earlier.
“Are you going to be good?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Probably not.” I was already calculating how many seconds it’d take to shoot out of my chair, grab her hand, and yank her to me before she could realize the kind of trouble she was in.
“This is part of your punishment for leaving me without your cock for an entire week. Do you really think you can afford to get into more trouble?”
“Probably not,” I said again, “but that’s never stopped me before.”
She tsked and shook her head. “Guess the skirt is staying on, then. Too bad because this thong I’m wearing barely has enough fabric to qualify as underwear.”
“Take off the skirt,” I growled.
She slowly reached for the zipper of the skirt. She inched it down halfway and then locked gazes with me. “Remember, no touching. Or the game will be over.”
I curled my hands around the arms of my chair and narrowed my eyes so she knew that I wasn’t a fan of her terms, but that only made her smile wider.
Pretty sure it was why she also shimmied out of her skirt, torturing me with every sexy little movement. Holy fucking shit.
She took a step closer, but remained just out of swiping distance.
“Is that outfit my punishment? Having to stare at you in it, but not being able to get my hands on you and feel it for myself?” I’d play her little game for now, because the lust flooding my body and mixing in with frustration was oddly intoxicating. But by the end of the night, this woman was going to be bent over my desk and begging for mercy.
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