Beneath the Boss: Omnibus (The Complete Collection) (8 page)

“Well, I do,” she said, running her hands down his chest before resting them on his belt. “It’s so sturdy, powerful.”

“Is it now?”

“Um-hmm,” she said, as she slid down to rest on her knees between his thighs. “It makes me imagine the man who sits behind it, being on my knees before him ready to serve.”

She traced the ridge of his cock through his pants as she looked up at him, his gray gaze so hot it almost felt like a physical touch. His scorching look ignited an explosion in her belly, propelled her to action.  She rubbed the smooth, supple leather of his belt with the tips of her fingers, letting the heel of her hand rest against his crotch. Leighton squirmed in his chair, tilted his hips to increase the contact.

“And how would you serve him?” he asked, the strain in his voice as arousing as his heated gaze.

“First, I’d open my shirt.” She leaned back and slowly unbuttoned her shirt.

“You wouldn’t take it off?”

She shook her head. “I know he likes the way the I look with my shirt open, bra exposed so he can make out the points of my nipples through the fabric, see the way my breasts spill out of the cups, barely contained.”

She could see Leighton’s cock twitch as she said the words.

“Then?” he asked, strain still evident in his voice and in the way he gripped the arms of his chair. The action made Layla appreciate how difficult this was for Leighton. He usually took control, was the one who had her on the edge, and she enjoyed the prospect of returning even a small taste of the pleasure he gave.

“Why, then I’d lean forward, kiss his cock through the fabric of his pants, revel in the heat and hardness of him, the faint scent that could be cologne but that I know is just him.”

She did just that when she finished speaking, loving the feel of the hard ridge of his erection beneath her lips, inhaling deeply to get more of his intoxicating scent.

She leaned back a fraction, her actions now mimicking her words. “Then I’d open his pants and lower his zipper. Slowly, carefully, because the anticipation makes me so wet, so desperate, and I want to draw it out. And the man who sits behind this desk expects the best, so rushing just won’t do.”

Leighton moaned as she completed her task, the bulge of his cock now lovingly framed by his pants, the barest hint of his cockhead visible through his underwear.

“I’d slide his pants down and then guide his boxer briefs over his cock, relieved, and humbled, when it is finally free.”

And she was. She’d seen him before, had him in her mouth, but he still took her breath away. The sight of his cock, thick and heavily veined and at the moment flushed deep red, never failed to amaze her. She went still for a moment, and silence reigned briefly before she reached up and encircled him with her fingers, the rough brush of the tuft of hair at his base against her hand sending pinpricks of desire directly to her core.

She continued, “Then I’d stroke him, take in the contrast of the velvet-soft skin over the steel of his erection.”

She did, and he moaned, the sound low in his throat and a clear indication of his deteriorating restraint. She decided to give him a reprieve when a single drop of precum, followed by another, then another, leaked out of the mushroomed tip of his cock.

“And then I lick precum from his tip, shivering when the salty flavor hits my taste buds, run my tongue over his slit and spread the moisture around his cockhead until it glistened. Once I had him wet and almost panting, I’d take him into my mouth, my throat, as deep as I could.”

And she did.

Layla raised slightly and lowered her mouth over Leighton’s cock, working her tongue up and down as she went. She paused for a moment when tip of Leighton’s cock hit the tender flesh at the back of her throat, but then went on, sealing her lips around his cock and latching her hands around the base. Layla put everything she had into this, tried to show the depth of her feelings through the pleasure she gave.

Leighton twisted in his chair, reached down and grabbed her tits, cupping them with her palms and pinching and twisting her nipples. She knew what he wanted, so without slowing, she reached down and grabbed one of his hands, settled it on the back of her head. Leighton followed suit with the other and rested them there, seemingly seeking permission.

“Ah, Layla, are you...ah, sure?”

She hummed her response and relaxed her muscles, and Leighton took the lead. He laced his fingers through her hair and pushed her head down, releasing a low almost growl as the head of his cock slid down her throat. They stayed that way for an instant, or an eternity, she wasn’t really sure, but then he let out an actual growl and said, “Oh, Layla, can’t...I’m com—”

His words were reduced to a series of grunts, and cum flooded out of him and down her throat. Layla tried to swallow, which earned her another groan and full-body shudder from Leighton. He released her and pulled out of her mouth, strings of his cum and her saliva coating his cock and her lips. Leighton leaned back, deep, full breaths shaking his big body.

Layla had never been more proud.

••••

L
ayla pulled into her driveway and wasn’t surprised at the sight that greeted her. Leighton leaned against his car, looking like he’d stepped off the cover of a magazine. She idly wondered how he’d beaten her there, but her thoughts scattered as he walked over to her car.

“I missed you,” he said as she got out.

She chuckled. “It’s been less than an hour since you saw me.”

“Still missed you.”

The walked up the driveway and stopped at her front door.

“May I sleep over tonight?” Leighton asked.

“Here?” Layla said.

“Yes,” he responded.

She looked him up and down and then smiled. “Sure.”

O
ne month later

“Pretty please? I’ll make it worth your while.”

He made an exaggerated face and narrowed his eyes into a come-hither look, more than hinting at what he had in mind if she stayed over.

“Nope. Rules is rules, but I’m not totally inflexible. I will allow you a chaste hug and kiss.”

“So generous.” She quirked a brow and then he said, “Deal. I taught you so well. The student has become the master.”

“Ha. Doubtful. You just find me irresistible,” she said.

“Oh yes I do,” he said, his tone low and sensual as he stalked toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “I want you with me every night.”

“You see me most nights,” she said as he leaned down and peppered kisses along her jawline, eliciting moan and making her pussy ache for him as his touch always did, testing her resolve to keep their relationship out of the office.

“Most isn’t every,” he said as he pulled back, “but I’ll take what I can get.”

He cradled her in his arms for several long moments, his tenderness shining through the sexual heat. These embraces, when he held her like she was precious, like he didn’t want to let her go, had become more frequent over the last couple of weeks. They’d settled into a routine of sorts, spending several evenings a week at her house and even visiting his estate on occasion. They made love, amazing love that only seemed to get better as they learned each other. But they did other things as well, ate breakfast on Sunday morning, him reading an actual physical newspaper, while she teased him for being a Luddite, watched teen dramas on television, though he insisted they were background noise that helped him concentrate on his push-ups. And they talked, talked about most everything. He was reluctant to discuss his family, especially his father, quick to distract her when the subject came up, but he was still open and free. And true to his word, he respected her boundaries at work, well, except the for occasional late-night kiss, and treated her the same as always. Which meant she was overworked, a little frazzled, and sometimes mad enough at him to spit fire. But he always made it up to her in the most creative of ways.

She’d loved him before, but now, she was a complete goner. Every moment spent with Leighton, good and bad, only revealed more of the man, made him a real, and made him a part of her, so much so that she didn’t even try to fight it. She just accepted it and hoped. For what she wasn’t quite sure. He’d never discussed what feelings, if any, he had for her, and she didn’t press. She knew there was no happily ever after in their future, yet she couldn’t deny she wanted more. But, pride be damned, she’d take whatever Leighton offered, for as long as he offered it, and she refused to feel guilty about it.

She pulled back from his embrace. “Good night, Mr. Means,” she said with a smile and turned and left his office.

She was headed directly to her car, but remembered a file she’d left on her desk, so she doubled back to her office and checked her watch when she heard the phone ringing.

Curious, she answered, “This is Layla.”

“Oh, hello, Ms. Grayson, I thought I’d get your voice mail,” Anson Smythe said.

“Hello, Anson. I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for the real me. What can I do for you?”

She remembered his offer, even thought about it occasionally, but she’d been so enraptured in Leighton, she hadn’t followed up.

“You recall our previous conversation don’t you, dear?”

“Yes...”

“Well, unfortunately, circumstances have changed, and I won’t be able to hire you to manage the fund.”

Layla has suspected as much, but something felt off about this conversation, so she was compelled to dig.

“Um...I’m sorry to hear that, but may I ask what’s changed?”

“I really should have done this sooner, but I’ve been dragging my feet. Circumstances changed. That’s all. You know how this business is.”

She was on high alert now but sensed that Anson wouldn’t be more forthcoming.

“I do. It’s unfortunate that things didn’t work out, but perhaps we’ll have a chance to work together in the future.”

“Yes, maybe, dear. Have a nice evening.”

“You, too, Anson. Good-bye.”

She hung up the phone and stood by her desk, confused. Something was seriously off but she couldn’t put her finger on what. She headed down to her car, still puzzling over the phone call, and it stayed at the front of her mind during the drive home. It was just so strange. Maybe she’d ask Leighton—

A chill settled over her, turning her bones to ice. It couldn’t be. He’d made a promise, and Leighton never went back on his word. But still...

She argued with herself through her shower, as she brushed her teeth, and as she lay in bed.

Screw it
.

She knew she wouldn’t get any rest unless she talked to Leighton, so she threw on a pair of thin cotton pants and jacket and headed back to the office.

••••

L
eighton perked up when he heard someone entering his outer office. The area was access-restricted in the evening, so he knew it would be her. She’d changed her mind and decided to stay the night, an indication, small though it was, that she enjoyed him as much as he enjoyed her. He stood and walked across the office, anxious to feel her in his arms, but pulled up short when he say her face. She seemed pensive, tentative.

“Layla, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He went over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m fine, it’s just that I got a strange call tonight.”

“From who?”

“Anson Smythe.”

Uneasiness filled him.

“What about?” he asked, though he knew.

“He called to rescind the job offer.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t expect you would.” She looked up at him, her expression serious. “Leighton, I’m going to ask you something. I’ll believe whatever you say, no questions asked, but please tell me the truth.”

Uneasiness turned to dread. He knew what was coming, and he knew he couldn’t lie to her, but he was terrified about how she’d respond. He nodded.

“Did you, directly or indirectly, have anything to do with Smythe’s call?”

The words hung between them, and Leighton knew that the answer would change the trajectory of his life.

“Yes.”

She flinched, but she didn’t run, and he took that as a hopeful sign. He slid his hands down to rest on her waist and stepped closer to her. She didn’t melt into him as usual, but still, she didn’t run. She looked up at him again, her brown eyes unreadable. He hated the distant expression, missed the heat, out of amusement or anger, he didn’t care. This absent, blank-eyed Layla wasn’t his.

“Explain,” she said, her voice as flat as her expression.

“It was before...”

“We slept together the first time?”

“No, after that but before we came to our understanding.”

“And you didn’t think it important to mention this conversation to me?”

“No. I don’t know. I have a...history...with Smythe, and I couldn’t let him take you away.”

“So you used me as a weapon and lied to me?”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“By omission, you did.” There was fire in her eyes now, and though he preferred mad Layla to void Layla, he’d never seen her this angry and feared that this meant for them. “You kept something from me, let me believe the opposite of the truth. That’s a lie in my book.”

She wrenched away and turned her back to him, wrapping her arms around herself. Leighton stared at the strong line of her back, the full curve of her ass, the long distance of her legs, tried to imagine not being able to touch her again. He knew how Layla felt about lies, knew she could never accept them, and if he didn’t do something, she’d walk out of that door and out of his life.

That couldn’t happen.

He put his arms around her again, and this time, to his surprise, she leaned against his chest. He ran his hands up and down her abdomen and kissed her head and neck.

“I’m sorry. But it doesn’t matter. If that’s what you want, I can start a fund for you to manage.”

She stiffened, and he took another approach.

“Or not, whatever you want.”

He turned her around and kissed her lips, trying to get some reaction. Finally, after a long moment, she opened her mouth, and he plunged his tongue inside, trying to pour all of his emotion into the kiss. He slipped his hand into his pants, relieved to find the wetness that always greeted him there. He slipped one finger inside her and squeezed her breast with his other hand. Layla moaned into his mouth and grappled with his belt and pants, finally freeing his hard cock. He wanted her, but this was something else. He needed to be with her, try to make her understand how much he loved her. He’d never admitted that, even to himself, but faced with the prospect of losing her, he could no longer deny it. He pushed her pants around her knees, then lifted one leg and slammed inside her, the grip of her cunt a homecoming.