IN BED WITH THE BOSS

“Will you-” She broke off. God, she was pushing her luck. From his explanation, she sensed he didn’t share this part of himself with many people.

It didn’t line up with the image of ruthless business tycoon. But in this moment, she wanted to see his clever, talented fingers fly over those strings. To witness him coax beautiful music from that instrument. To watch him lower that damnable shield and let her in. “Will you play for me?”

He stared at her, and her heart thudded against her rib cage. Finally, finally, he dipped his chin and reached for the acoustic guitar on the far end. He almost reverently lifted it off the stand and carried it to the loe seat. She trailed behind him, not saying anything. Afraid if she uttered a word, he might change his mind. Once he perched on one end of the small love seat, she sank to the other.

Propping the instrument on his thighs, he plucked a few strings, turned the knobs at the top. Once he seemed satisfied, he cupped the neck, fingers at the ready there. And the other hand hovered over the big, rounded body.

Then he started to play.

And…damn.

She’d expected something classical, reserved. But no. Passion flowed from beneath his fingers. Passion, and anger, and joy and grief. So many emotions soared from the music, which sounded almost Spanish, but bluesy and a little bit of rock. It was fierce, soul- jarring and…and beautiful. So. Beautiful.

Pain swelled in her lungs, and she expelled a huge breath, just realizing she’d been holding it.

When his fingers stilled, and the music faded away, she remained speechless, breathless. Like she’d been transported to Oz and offered this rare peek behind the wizard’s curtain. Only she didn’t find a fraud, but a rare, wonderful truth about this man. One that few people were gifted with seeing.

He lifted his head, and those fathomless black eyes studied her. A faint frown creased his brow, and he reached for her, swiping his thumb under her eye.

“You’re crying,” he murmured.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“Am I?” she asked, shocked, wiping her fingers over her cheeks. Well, hell. She was. “I didn’t notice.”

“Was I that bad?” he teased, with a soft smile she’d never witnessed on him.

“You were-” are “-amazing,” she whispered. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

The smile disappeared, but his midnight gaze glittered as if dozens of stars lay behind the black.

“I shouldn’t want you like this.” She blurted out the confession. “I shouldn’t. But… Even knowing who we are… That we can’t be… Even knowing this can only end one way, I still want to grab on to those moments when we’re just Scott and Vivian, not boss and assistant having an affair. When we’re being honest with each other the only way we truly can.”

Sex. Need. Passion-they’re honest. The body can’t lie. Lust is the great equalizer regardless of social status, race or tax bracket. It was a risk saying those words to him, since he’d made it clear what he wanted. And from the gleam in his hooded gaze and the tightening of his sensual mouth, maybe he didn’t like that she’d said those words.

Honesty. Though her pulse slammed her ears, she had to drag her big-girl panties on and tell him the truth. She couldn’t justify keeping it from him anymore, especially when he’d offered her the gift of playing for her.

But for now…She shifted closer to him, covered the hand that still rested on the body of the guitar. Lightly, she explored those fingers, amazed at how they could draw such magic out of the instrument and her. She wanted him to cradle, strum and play her.

She trailed a caress up his arm, over his shoulder and neck, until she reached his jaw. Cupping it, she mimicked the many times he’d held her in the same grip. She swept her thumb over his full bottom lip.

His gaze never leaving hers, Scott carefully set the guitar on the table, then clasped her hand in his.

He turned his head, placing a kiss in the center of her palm, then tracing a path to her wrist. His lips pressed there over her pulse, and her lashes fluttered down. But at the damp flick of his tongue, she gasped, eyes flying open. Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and she didn’t even try to contain her whimper.

He rose, gently tugging her to her feet. Without releasing her hand, he led her out of the room, down the hallway and up the curving staircase. They entered a cavernous bedroom lit only by a single lamp on a nightstand. Not just any bedroom-his. The big king-size bed covered in a black spread and white pillows, two chairs flanking a large, freestanding fireplace, a couple glossy bedside tables, a rug-the almost austere decor was relieved by the breathtaking view of the River and skyline through the three floor-to-ceiling windows, and the one wall that bore a black-and-white mural of a bare, leafless tree on a lonely plain. It was gorgeous. It was him.

Turning to her, he captured all her attention by cradling her face between his palms, tilting her head back and claiming her mouth. Slow, tender; raw and erotic. His tongue relayed all that he wanted to do to her-would do to her. And as she cocked her head to the side, granting him deeper access, she consented to it all.

“I want to take you in my bed,” he muttered against her lips.

As soon as her whispered “Please,” passed her lips, he stripped her, haphazardly tossing her borrowed clothes to the floor. His clothes followed and, hiking her in his arms, he carried her to the bed. Her back hit the covers and his big, hot body pressed her into the mattress. He kissed her harder, wilder, more insistently, as if that leash on his control had unraveled.

He dug her fingers into her hair, yanking off the band that corralled it and freeing the strands so they tumbled around her face. With a hot, low rumble, he kissed her again, then every inch of her received attention from his mouth, his fingers. By the time he tugged open the drawer on a bedside table and pulled a condom free, she shook with need, twisting and aching for him to fulfill his promise and take her.

Linking their fingers, he drew her arms up, their joined hands bracketing her head.

“Open for me, baby,” he murmured, desire burning hot in his dark eyes. The head of his erection nudged her entrance, and she willingly, eagerly widened her thighs and locked them around his slim hips. “Thank you, baby.”

He groaned as he sank inside her, not stopping until her sex fully sheathed him. She arched under him, grinding her head into the pillow. God, he stretched her, filled her. Branded her. When he started to move in long, hard thrusts that rocked her body and her soul, she felt claimed. And when her channel clenched around him, and she hurtled into an orgasm that threatened to break her apart, she shut her eyes and became a willing sacrifice to it.

Soon, the aftershocks rippling through her eased, and the fog of ecstasy started to fade. She tensed, waiting for him to roll away from her, to reject her.

But when he drew her into his arms, his still-labored breathing bathing her neck, she slowly relaxed.

Right before she drifted away, his low, hoarse voice penetrated her heavy blanket of drowsiness.

“Don’t let me break you, Vivian. Protect yourself from me.”

She didn’t reply, but carried that warning with her into sleep.

——–

Vivian woke up in the middle of the night feeling thirsty and a little hungry. She slowly opened her eyes, realizing that Scott’s arm was wrapped possessively around her and she smiled. She could get used to this, she thought. Not wanting to wake him up, she slowly crawled out of the bed, picked up his shirt from the floor and put it on as she walked silently out of the room.

She headed downstairs and straight to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of water and downed the contents, then her eyes fell on something.

Hmmmm Brownies….

She remembered Scott’s comment about them and wondered if she really wanted to eat them, but she was curious. There were six and just one certainly wouldn’t hurt, she thought, so she opened the box, grabbed one and ate it. It was delicious no doubt… one of most delicious brownies she’d ever tasted and she was hungry, so she grabbed another one.

Not feeling like going back to bed, she decided to watch TV. It would be nice to see what kind of movies Scott watched too. She grabbed the brownie box and a bottle of wine and headed to the living room.

Ten minutes later, she was watching an episode of Bridgerton on Netflix and munching happily on another brownie.