Beneath the Boss: Omnibus (The Complete Collection) (3 page)

He thought back to dinner, Layla there, looking happier and more relaxed than he’d seen her in a long time. The little shadows in her eyes had lifted, and he’d seen hints of the young woman she’d been.

Back when his father had been running the company into the ground, Layla had been hired fresh out of high school to handle administrative tasks. From what Leighton had gathered, she hadn’t had any skills in particular, but she’d been cheap. By the time Leighton took over four years later, Layla had become the backbone of the company, keeping things together while his father destroyed what was left of the family name. She’d been integral over the years, helping Leighton through that dark early time, working day and night to make sure they survived. No one—not his cowardly, wastrel of a father, his loving but weak mother, his so-called friends who couldn’t wait to turn their backs on him once they’d realized the money was gone, the women who fought for his attention now that the money was back—had been there through it all. No one but her.

He felt a sharp twist in his gut. She couldn’t go. It was nonnegotiable. That she was even considering it filled him rage and another emotion too close to fear for his liking.

But it wouldn’t come to that. She’d see reason, and they’d get back to normal.

••••

L
ayla stood at his office door for long moments, debating whether she should just leave. His haughty commands, expectation of complete obedience, were just a part of the trouble. Her need, unhealthy she knew but altogether undeniable, to please him, was the bigger issue. Beyond gratitude and respect, Leighton inspired something else, touched her on an elemental level, and if she didn’t break away, she’d lose herself forever.

Still, she was no wimp. She wouldn’t run from him. She opened the door and walked in, hoping she portrayed casual confidence instead of the mix of sadness, anger, shame, and a tiny bit of fear that she felt.

She settled in the leather love seat across from his desk and waited. She’d learned from the best, and she wouldn’t babble in the face of his stony silence, no matter how much she wanted to. As the silence stretched and Leighton stared, his gray gaze burning through her like icy fire, she thought back to the countless others she’d watched in this position. Business adversaries, employees who couldn’t hack it. Never had she imagined she’d be here, subject of his apparent scorn. But she’d been wrong.

“Layla,” he started, his even tone a vivid contrast to the intensity that practically vibrated around him, “I don’t know what this is about, but it’s unacceptable, and I won’t stand for it. I’ll give you a raise, you deserve it, but I insist you let Smythe know you’ve reconsidered and won’t be joining his firm. If you were anyone else, I’d fire you on the spot. But I know you’ve been working had, so take a couple of days off and we’ll put this behind us. And, Layla, as I’ve said before, as a representative of this company, you have an obligation to present the best possible face to the public.” His gaze traveled up her bare legs, briefly resting on the hem of her skirt, until it settled on the relatively low neckline of her satin scoop-neck shell.

“In the future, please ensure your attire is more befitting a person of your position. I won’t have you embarrassing me.”

“How dare you?” she said, her tone incredulous and her voice lowered an octave, a clear indication of her anger.

“How dare I what, Layla? How dare I overlook your betrayal, allow you liberties that I’d never permit anyone else?”

She jumped off the love seat, the rush of her blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart making it impossible for her to sit still.

“How magnanimous. I give everything, everything, to this company, and you’re willing to overlook my betrayal. Fuck you, Leighton!”

At her words, he rose and walked around his desk to stand in front of her. He looked down at her, and she noted the tic in his jaw and the deepening of the gray in his eyes. She knew he was on the edge, that she was playing with fire, but for once, she didn’t care.

“I’m doing this because
I
want it. You don’t control me, Leighton.”

He looked at her, the heat in his gaze almost an inferno. “Don’t I?” he said with a smile.

Layla realized then how close he was, closer than he’d ever been, close enough to touch. If he leaned down...

He did. Leaned down and took her lips with his, the kiss as dominating and unyielding as his words. Layla couldn’t help herself; she opened against his kiss, her traitorous body bending to his command. Her mind warred with itself; the rational part of her screamed at her to stop, that this couldn’t happen, the other unbelieving but oh so overjoyed.

Her rational mind lost.

As much as she wanted to deny it, she’d longed for Leighton all these years, and despite the circumstances and ignoring the anger that motivated his actions, she was going to take whatever he’d give and deal with the devastation later.

She moaned low in her throat when he tangled his tongue with hers and lifted her hands to the solid wall of his chest, the heat of radiating from him and seeping through the fine wool of his suit jacket.

And then she found her cheek pressed against his office door, the cold of the wood a sharp and sudden contrast to the heat of Leighton’s mouth. The rapture of his kiss was so intense, she hadn’t even realized they’d moved. He pressed his pelvis against her ass, and she could feel his iron-hard erection through the fabric. In one smooth motion, he lifted her skirt up around her waist and pushed her panties down. He cupped her mound and found the wetness that had, much to her embarrassment, gathered between her lips.

He leaned his head down, and spoke low, his warm breath teasing her ear, “You say I don’t control you, Layla, but you’re wet for me. This is for me, isn’t it?”

When she didn’t respond, he lightly pinched her clit, and her knees buckled. “Yes,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t reveal her pleasure or her shame.

“Good,” he said, and he buried one, then two fingers, into her cunt.

She felt the harshness of his breath against her ear, the rough tickle of the wool against her bare bottom as he rubbed himself against her. Then, as she began to rock her hips against his fingers, he pulled them out. She started to turn, but his hand against her back stilled her. She placed her hands on the door, seeking purchase. Suddenly, his hand was gone, and her ears perked at the sound of his belt unbuckling. The air left her lungs in a whoosh. She heard the rasp of his zipper, and cried out when she felt what could only be his cock, hard and hot, prod her opening.

“You’d let me fuck you right here, right now. You’d let me and you’d love it.”

It wasn’t a question, but her answer slipped out anyway. “Yes,” she said on a sigh, so quiet even she could barely hear it.

Before the word was completely out of her mouth, he plunged up and filled her with his cock in one stroke. He held still, forcing her to focus on the sensation, his chest against her back, his hands on her ample hips, and her pussy full of him, stretched beyond anything she’d experienced. She’d been with someone before, but Leighton’s cock filling and stretching her made her feel new. The shock of his intrusion was quickly replaced by a trace of disappointment at his stillness, which faded completely when he started moving.

Leighton gave no quarter and, hand still on her hips, began pounding her unrelentlessly. She creamed even more, and the pleasure was so intense, almost painful, that she wanted, needed, to move, to find some respite, but there was none. There was only Leighton and his cock, and she gave in to them, rested her head on her hands, and, still pressed against the door, took what he gave. She desperately wanted to moan, to yell at him to fuck her harder, faster, but her pride wouldn’t let her. It was of no matter, because he whispered, “So quiet, Layla. You won’t scream for me?” She shook her head no. “That’s okay,” he said, “you’re pussy is soaked and gripping my cock like a vise. I don’t need your screams or your words. Your body is speaking loud and clear.” He thrust hard, forcing her up on the tips of her toes. “And its saying you belong to me.”

He thrust hard again, as if for emphasis, and Layla came apart. Stars danced behind her eyelids, the pleasure radiating from the place where she and Leighton were joined, up and through her entire body. She clenched her fingers, ineffectively attempting to grasp the smooth door. Then, almost without conscious thought, she rested her face on the door and reached behind her, settled her hands on Leighton’s, strong, warm, and holding her hips as he continued to pound into her. She went limp against him, trusting he’d hold her despite her size.

He didn’t disappoint and held her steady through the waves of her orgasm, his thrusts never wavering. Then, suddenly, he stilled, and she felt the hot rush of his cum filling her. They stayed like that, joined, their heavy breaths the only sound filling the room.

She sighed when he pulled out of her, clenching her thighs to keep their combined juices trapped. She rested her forehead against the door, feeling the empty at the loss. She heard the rustle of fabric and then his zipper closing and what she assumed was him buckling his belt. She felt his hands on her ankles, and looked down, realizing he’d kneeled and was pulling her panties up her legs. When he reached her cleft, he pressed her thigh, silently asking that she spread her legs. She did so, and he placed his handkerchief between her thighs and then pulled her underwear up the rest of the way, settling her skirt to its proper place after he’d finished and placing a surprisingly tender kiss on that sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder.

Layla exhaled and turned around, settling her shoulders against the door. He looked as calm and devastating as usual, the deep flush of his skin the only clue that something was amiss.

He adjusted his tie and turned on his heel, tossing a casual, “Have the driver take you home, and call me when you get in. We’ll discuss this...situation further,” over his shoulder.

She left without speaking.

W
hen she got home, she sat in her driveway a few moments before heading into the house. She’d taken her car, needed the drive to clear her head, if such a thing was possible.

I slept with Leighton
.

She got out of the car and entered the house. She dropped her keys in the ashtray, took off her shoes, hung her jacket, same as she did every other day. But tonight was different. 

I slept with Leighton
.

The thought plagued her as she sorted her mail, rummaged through the fridge for a snack before settling on a diet cola.

I slept with Leighton.

The mantra continued as she walked through her bedroom and into the bath and as she peeled off her suit jacket, skirt, and blouse and placed them in the laundry bag. She reached for her underwear, and the movement was a reminder that Leighton’s handkerchief—and his cum—still remained.

Oh God. I slept with Leighton
.

She walked over to the vanity and looked in the mirror, studied her reflection. She looked the same as she had this morning, didn’t see anything that would explain why she’d let her boss, sometimes nemesis, and occasional friend fuck her against his office door like she was a cheap whore. Or why she’d enjoyed it. Layla turned away from her reflection and pulled off her panties, refusing to acknowledge the little trill in her belly when she felt Leighton’s cum trickle out of her.

Her shoulders sagged. Her strength fled, and she could barely stand long enough to shower. A few short minutes later, she crawled into bed, sleep taking her almost instantly.

••••

L
eighton paced in his office, careful to avoid looking at still-closed door. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like he could think of anything else. He didn’t know what had come over him.

He’d fucked Layla. Seen her standing there, fire in her eyes and fierce anger on her face, and he’d kissed her. Kissed her and then rutted like an animal, her silence and the oh so snug grip of her walls pushing him into a frenzy he’d never experienced. It was too late to make difference, but he hoped her hadn’t hurt her. He stopped short, and his stomach dropped.

She’d been tight, tighter than anyone else he’d fucked.

Oh God.

She’d been a virgin. And he hadn’t used a condom.

He let the realization sink in. Tried to regret it and failed. He wished he could have made it nicer, been more tender, but he wasn’t sorry. It actually felt...good. Right.

She was Layla, his best employee, and if he was being honest, the only person he trusted implicitly.

Had trusted implicitly.

The memory flooded through him in wave, heating his skin and making his heart race. She was going to leave him. Cared so little about the business, about him, that she was moving on to another job like it was nothing.

“Damn it,” he yelled and slammed the decanter he’d been holding against the door, his earlier concerns about Layla shattering like the glass.

He knew better than to trust anyone, but he’d let her get under skin, seep inside him a little bit day by day, until her presence became a comfort, a necessity, he couldn’t imagine being without. And now he was stuck. He dropped down on the love seat in his office, the stress of the day finally getting to him.

Then it hit him.

He’d been foolish, weak, but no more. He’d fuck her, try to get her out of his system. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, let her go.

L
ayla snuggled into the covers, clinging to the last vestiges of sleep. She knew it was a futile task, but she was going to try anyway.
Just a few more minutes
. Then she’d face whatever challenge Leighton had in store.

Leighton!

She bolted upright, memories of last night flooding her all at once. She leaned back slowly, resting against her pillows, wanting to hide underneath them and never come back out. She lay there for long moments, contemplating her circumstance. As best as she could tell, she had two choices. First, she could move, change her identity, and hope the relentless man she wanted to avoid wouldn’t hunt her down. Second, she could pray he’d been in a fugue state last night and had no recollection of what had occurred. Both options lived somewhere in Slim-to-Noneville, so she was on her own. She didn’t know if she could face him after last night, but she was sure it was better to get it over with.