Billionaire Bosshole: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance
Bosshole (ˈbȯs - ˈhōl )
1. A person who turns into a massive jerk ten seconds after being made supervisor.
2. An employer completely devoid of empathy or concern for anyone else.
3. A manager with whom you often disagree.
Also see: jerk boss, a$$hole, egomaniac
Do you know the one thing you should never do at work?
Sadly, following that particular piece of advice is much easier said than done.
Ronan Maxwell is hands down the sexiest man I've ever met. He's also the pushiest, most demanding, and most arrogant S.O.B. on the planet. And even though I can't stand him, I never stop wondering how his ridiculously pretty mouth would feel against my skin. Or whether or not that bulge in his pants is as impressive as it seems.
For two years, I had it under control. But then one late night, all that changed. Now that I know firsthand how electrifying his touch can be, I want him more than ever. And the longer we continue this twisted relationship, the softer my heart gets. I have no idea what the future holds, but one thing I know for sure—this man has the power to break my heart.
And that's one thing I can never let happen.
*Billionaire Bosshole is a full-length interconnected standalone novel in the Bedding the Billionaire world.
Release date: January 9, 2020
Publisher: Lovestruck Publishing LLC
Print pages: 282
Content advisory: graphic sex scenes and language
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
Billionaire Bosshole: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance
“His dick must be huge.”
I nearly sprayed my coffee all over the closing elevator doors. “Sylvie!”
“What?” My best friend shrugged. “If you think about it, statistically, he’s packing some serious heat. You’ve seen his bulge. Goddamn, what I wouldn’t give to be on the receiving end of that.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was going to need another triple latte to deal with her today. I loved Sylvie to death, but sometimes her lack of filter could be a bit much. Case in point: this discussion in a crammed elevator at eight o’clock on a Monday morning. I had no idea how our conversation had even taken this turn. One minute we were talking about getting drinks after work, and the next it was all dicks, all the time.
“Will you please stop talking about the man’s penis?” I whisper-shouted.
She laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Quinn, you can’t say you haven’t thought about it. The man’s a giant—what is he, like six-foot-three, six-foot-four? Easily two hundred ten pounds of drool-worthy muscle. I wonder how big of a baby he was. I’d bet my Chanel clutch that he’s been obliterating vaginas since birth.”
I groaned and mouthed an apology to the elderly woman standing beside me.
Why is this damn thing so slow?
I could not step off the elevator fast enough once we finally arrived on the fifty-first floor.
“Quinn!” Sylvie shouted, her ridiculous heels click-clacking on the marble floor. “Slow down!”
I sighed and waited for her to catch up. “You do realize there were at least a dozen other people trapped in that elevator with us, right?”
She scrunched her brows. “And?”
“Oh my God, you crazy woman, you can’t just go around talking about the size of a man’s cock. Especially not Ronan Maxwell’s cock, in his own damn building! What if an employee heard us?”
Sylvie laughed. “First of all, if anyone has a problem talking about cock size, or cocks in general, they need to loosen up or get laid. Secondly, I never said the man’s name.” She looked around the reception area. “Although, you just did. Quite loudly, in fact.”
I glanced around and sure enough, Antonio, the head receptionist, was snickering. Luckily for me, he was my other best friend.
I pointed at him. “Not a damn word.”
He mimed buttoning his lips and batted his eyelashes. “My lips are sealed, honey. Although, if you’re going to continue this conversation, you bitches better include me.”
I glared at him. “Is he here yet?”
“Who?” Antonio asked innocently. “The owner of the cock in question?”
My eyes narrowed farther. “No, you idiot. The delivery guy from Stumptown.”
“Oh, don’t get your La Perlas in a bunch. He just left five minutes ago. Everyone will be sufficiently fed and caffeinated. Now, tell me more about Mr. Maxwell’s D. The greater the detail, the better.”
I growled, making both Antonio and Sylvie laugh, as I made my way down the long hallway leading to our main conference room.
Maxwell Hotels had recently acquired two gorgeous properties in Hawaii, and today we were meeting to discuss our new marketing campaign for the launch. When Sylvie and I got to the conference room, I immediately started rearranging the pastries so the muffins were on the left, the bagels were in the middle, and the Danishes were on the right. Our CEO, Ronan Maxwell, or as I liked to refer to him, the billionaire bosshole, was the most anally retentive person on the planet. I had no idea why, but the man had practically had an aneurysm the last time the pastries had been all mixed together. I had no desire to find yet another coffee vendor, so I was arranging them by height, just the way he preferred.
Sylvie switched on the projector, cueing up her PowerPoint presentation. She had been with the company for about four years as our creative director of marketing and I had been here just over two as Mr. Maxwell’s executive assistant. Between you and me, she’d definitely gotten the better end of the deal. My salary might seem obscene to outsiders, but if they knew what I had to deal with on any given day, they’d think I was underpaid.
I walked to the front of the room and exchanged warm greetings with several members of our executive team as they filed in, taking their designated seats.
“Thank you for being here today. As you know, renovations for our new Hawaiian locations are near completion.” I nodded to Sylvie. “Miss O’Hare’s team has created a brilliant marketing campaign to capitalize on the upcoming high season. She’s going to review each phase of—”
Mr. Maxwell then entered the room. As usual, he was dressed impeccably in a charcoal designer suit—Prada, I was guessing—with a crisp white shirt. The overhead lights glinted off his signature platinum cufflinks as he looked at his watch.
His light blue eyes met mine and for a moment, I forgot about how much I loathed this man. His focus was so intense, it was a miracle I could finish my sentence. Ronan Maxwell was so beautiful, yet masculine, it took my breath away. Every inch of him was undeniably attractive, but my gaze always got hung up on his ridiculously full lips.
I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d fantasized about tugging that lower lip between my teeth. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he got injections. As much as I’d like to deny it, my lady bits were instantly ready for action any time he was near. Hell, the man could practically make me come just with his deep, rumbly voice. It also didn’t help that you could bounce a quarter off his ass and he always wore his dark brown hair in that freshly fucked way that I loved.
I looked away, deliberately ignoring how his perfectly tailored suit stretched across his broad chest. Once, I’d walked in on him changing, and I swear on my life, I almost orgasmed on the spot. Mr. Maxwell stood in the middle of his office, completely shirtless. For someone who worked so many hours, you wouldn’t think his muscles would be so defined, but I could personally attest to the fact that they were. He even had that elusive V that turned smart women into dumbasses.
I had no idea when he fit time into his schedule for a workout, but I wouldn’t lie and tell you that I wasn’t grateful. It was only a matter of seconds before he pulled on a new shirt—one that didn’t have a giant coffee stain on it—but that brief moment in time had inspired more than one X-rated dream. If nothing else, the man was good for that.
“We all know why we’re here,” Head Asshole barked. “Now, since you make a much better door than a window, if you’ll move aside so we can actually see the slides, that’d be fantastic, Miss Montgomery.”
Well, that certainly reminds me how much of a jerk he is.
I took the seat closest to Sylvie and gestured for her to begin her presentation. I was only half-listening since I’d already seen all the slides, which was probably a good thing since Mr. Maxwell was being his usual condescending self. Sylvie fielded his questions like the marketing badass that she was, and when she reached the end of her PowerPoint, the other executives were looking at her with admiration, clearly pleased with her presentation.
Mr. Maxwell, of course, was never satisfied with anything. “Miss O’Hare, is this truly the best idea your team could come up with?” He gestured to the projector screen. “Surely, you can think of a more original slogan than ‘A Taste of Paradise in Paradise.’”
Sylvie cleared her throat. “Mr. Maxwell, as I mentioned in my presentation, that slogan is what our panel of testers responded best to.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit what testers responded best to. I care about what’s going to max out our occupancy. What’s going to boost sales for spa services and guest excursions. I care about what’s going to make me and our shareholders money. And this slogan is not it. Understand?”
She blinked rapidly. “Yes, sir. We’ll come up with more ideas and get those to you by the end of the week.”
“You have until Thursday, or you’ll all be looking for new jobs. Am I clear?” Mr. Maxwell folded his arms over his chest.
Sylvie nodded and began closing down her laptop. “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Maxwell looked around the room. “Well, what are you waiting for? The meeting is over. Get out of here.”
Ugh, he is such an ass.
As I headed toward the door, Mr. Maxwell said, “Not you, Miss Montgomery. I’d like a word.”
Sylvie mouthed good luck as she stepped out of the room.
I mirrored his stance and crossed my arms. “Yes?”
He stared at me without a word. When he licked his bottom lip, unbidden images of him tracing that tongue over my skin flashed before me. What was wrong with me? This man was the biggest jerk I’d ever met, yet I couldn’t stop fantasizing about him in every compromising situation imaginable.
“You approved Miss O’Hare’s presentation?”
I lifted my chin. “Yes, I did, because it was a damn good one.”
He scoffed. “Funny, I thought you would’ve learned by now that I do not accept mediocrity. Those ideas were ‘damn good’ if we were a budget hotel chain. Need I remind you that we are one of the largest luxury hotel chains in the world, Miss Montgomery?”
My eyes narrowed. “I am well aware, Mr. Maxwell.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I had to literally bite my tongue to avoid an outburst. “Will there be anything else?” The fuck off was implied in my tone.
When he stood, my eyes automatically fell to the bulge Sylvie had mentioned. Holy hell, was he getting hard?
“My eyes are up here, Miss Montgomery.”
I could feel my cheeks flushing, but I brushed it off, like I wasn’t just caught staring at his crotch. “I’m also well aware of that.”
The asshole smirked. “Of course you are. You’re dismissed. Get the hell out of my conference room.”
I brushed past him, refusing to acknowledge what that cocky smile did to me.
“Oh, and Miss Montgomery?”
I paused over the threshold and looked over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“Next time you waste my time by approving a shit campaign like that, you’ll be looking for a new job, too.”
Like I said. Ass. Hole.
“Do you think he goes downtown? Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have that man’s head between my thighs.”
My EA chuckled at her friend, Miss O’Hare. “Yeah, right. Ronan Maxwell wouldn’t eat pussy unless it increased his net worth. Nothing about that man indicates that he’s a giver.”
Ah, Miss Montgomery, how wrong you are. I’d be more than happy to show you how much I love eating pussy.
“That’s too bad,” Miss O’Hare mused.
“Agreed,” Miss Montgomery said. “I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve gotten off to fantasies of him going down on me. Just this morning, I woke up so damn wet from dreaming about him that I had to Jill off in the shower three times.”
Well, this conversation just got a lot more interesting.
For the last fifteen minutes, I’d been listening in on them. My lunch meeting had been canceled at the last minute, so Miss Montgomery had no idea I was still in the building. I was just about to step out to grab a bite when I heard the ladies returning with their takeout. I wasn’t sure what had stopped me, but when their voices rang through the slight crack in the doorway, curiosity got the best of me. Now, I was on the couch that sat against our shared wall, trying not to breathe too loudly.
“I’m telling you, Quinn, I think you should go for it. Just walk into his office, take that big dick out of his pants, and give him the ride of his life. I’d bet you anything that he’d be much nicer to you after that.”
Miss Montgomery laughed. “Yeah, right. That prick is incapable of being nice. And I’m still not convinced on your theory about the size of his cock. His special brand of assholery tells me that he’s compensating for something. Plus, he drives a McLaren. I mean, c’mon, if that doesn’t scream tiny dick, I don’t know what does.”
I’d be more than happy to prove you wrong, sweetheart.
Fuck, said cock was getting painfully hard just thinking about it. I pressed my open palm against my fly, willing it to calm down. I’d known Quinn Montgomery would be trouble the moment I’d laid eyes on her. Human Resources handled all of the hiring around here, so I hadn’t met her until her first day on the job. When I’d caught sight of her long blonde hair, those bee-stung lips, and luscious curves, I’d instantly wanted to push her up against the wall and fuck her senseless.
The first year that she worked here, I’d bedded several hot blondes, trying to squash my attraction to her. Unfortunately for me—and my dick—I was always left wanting in the end. So much so, that I’d stopped trying. Over the last twelve months, I’d had nothing but my hand and fantasies of my sexy-as-fuck assistant. To say that I was sexually frustrated would be a massive understatement.
The most aggravating part—besides the fact that she worked for me so I couldn’t go there—was that I knew she wanted me, too. I didn’t need to eavesdrop on this conversation to confirm that. I saw the longing looks she gave me when she thought I wasn’t watching. How often her eyes hungrily roamed my body. Hell, she was staring at my crotch like she wanted to swallow my dick just a few hours ago. When she gave me that look, it took every ounce of willpower that I possessed not to pin her to the conference table. The woman couldn’t stand me, no doubt, but she fucking wanted me.
My ears perked up when I heard Miss Montgomery speaking again. “This fixation of mine is getting ridiculous, Syl. Why can’t I get him out of my head?”
“You know what I think?” Miss O’Hare replied through what I assumed was a mouthful of food.
“You need to get laid. The last time was that cute guy from accounting, right?”
Which guy from accounting?
Miss Montgomery groaned. “Yeah. Over a year ago. And that was underwhelming at best. The only reason I even got off was because I took matters into my own hand and started fantasizing about my stupid boss.”
“Ah, he does make great material,” Miss O’Hare laughed. “What about L.A. Singles?”
“The dating app?” Miss Montgomery questioned. “I don’t know if online dating is really the right thing for me.”
“Why not? It’s perfect for someone like you.”
I could almost see Miss Montgomery’s brows pinching together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, calm down, Quinn. I was referring to how many hours you work. Online dating is pretty much the only way for busy professionals to meet someone outside of the workplace anymore. The only reason not to do it would be if you had your sights set on someone here.”
“I don’t know...” Miss Montgomery hedged.
“What harm would it do? Just download the app so you can at least browse the guys. You don’t need to make your profile public until you’re ready.”
Miss Montgomery sighed. “Okay, fine. It’s downloading.”
Her friend clapped. “We’re gonna get you laid by the weekend!”
“I didn’t say I was going to contact anyone!”
Miss O’Hare scoffed. “Sure you will. As beautiful as he is, masturbating to your boss cannot be your sole source of action. You need a real dick before the cobwebs set in. Now, what do you want your profile name to be?”
“Is it really that important?”
“Of course it is!” her friend insisted. “You need something intriguing. Something that suits you.”
There was a moment of silence before Miss Montgomery spoke. I could imagine her sexy little smile as she said, “What about Egomaniacs-Need-Not-Apply?”
Miss O’Hare snorted. “Oh my God, that’s perfect!”
“Right? I only have room for one massively self-absorbed person in my life and that guy pays me a shit-ton of money to put up with him. I’m sure as hell not going to spend time with someone like that for free.”
Both women laughed. I, however, hadn’t found her comment nearly as funny.
“As fun as this is, I’ve gotta get back so I can think of some more slogans,” Miss O’Hare said.
“God, he’s such an ass. That slogan is perfect.”
“Meh, I’m used to it by now. When has he ever accepted anything on the first try?”
“True,” Miss Montgomery agreed. “You wanna head downstairs with me to load up on caffeine first?”
“Sure. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
I waited until I was sure they were gone before exiting my office. Before I could think better of it, I winked at Miss Montgomery’s double take as I passed the coffee cart on my way out of the building. I wasn’t about to show my cards, but what was the harm in letting her sweat it out? If nothing else, it would teach her to guard her personal conversations more carefully while in the office.
If he didn’t pay me so much, I swear I would’ve quit on my first day. Okay, that was a lie; I worked damn hard to get this position and I intended to keep it for as long as it suited my goals. He may have been an insufferable asshole, but Ronan Maxwell was a brilliant businessman. You didn’t become the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar corporation if you weren’t. Sure, he inherited the role from his father, but he’d deserved it. In fact, I think because this was his family’s legacy, he worked even harder to prove himself.
Not that he’d admit that. The bastard was far too cocky.
Before me, Mr. Maxwell had a revolving door of EAs. No one lasted more than a few months because they couldn’t handle the stress. The man had ridiculously high standards, but he practiced what he preached, so I couldn’t really fault him for it. It was his delivery of those expectations that made me want to backhand him more often than not.
Besides, I was too stubborn to give up. My mother always told me that I was the most pigheaded person she’d ever met. Little did she know at the time how valuable that particular trait would become. I’d learned so much from Ronan Maxwell over the last two years—things I didn’t need to know for my current position, but he’d taken the time to teach me anyway.
Hospitality was never on my radar before because I was a numbers geek through and through, but now that I better understood the scope of it, I loved it. Putting up with my asshole boss gave me the best chance of success in this field.
“Nice of you to finally show up. I thought at this point you had taken the rest of the day off.” I looked up, startled by the deep voice. Mr. Maxwell was standing in the doorway to my office that served as the antechamber to his.
“Of course not, Mr. Maxwell.” My voice was sugary sweet but laced with arsenic. “I would never dream of doing such a thing without permission.”
He folded his arms and leveled me with a glare. “What took you so damn long?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “This is Los Angeles, sir. Traffic at any time of day is a nightmare. Since you decided to send me across town in the middle of the evening rush hour on a Friday, it was even worse. My apologies for not having the ability to steamroll over thousands of vehicles so I could return sooner.”
I’d swear he was stifling a laugh. “I want the final travel itinerary for Hawaii on my desk by seven. And order some food from Emperor’s Dragon. I’ll have the Chicken Manchurian with a side of barbeque pork. Get something for yourself, too. We have a lot more to cover before the day is through.” With that, he spun on his heels, slamming his office door behind him.
Ugh, I didn’t know what had crawled up his ass, but he’d been even worse than usual this week. I’d gone home no earlier than nine o’clock every evening. I foolishly thought that since it was Friday, he’d let me go at a reasonable hour. Instead, while everyone else was heading home for the weekend, I was stuck here with the biggest dick on the planet. Knowing him, I’d be lucky to get out of here before midnight.
“Mr. Maxwell, did you hear what I said?”
He blinked rapidly. “No.”
What was wrong with him? He was the most observant man I knew. He was normally ten steps ahead of everyone else, in every situation. Tonight, he was abnormally quiet and staring off into space a lot. It was freaking me out.
“I said, I really don’t think we should charge our guests for the luau. They’re paying at least five hundred dollars per night, which easily covers the expense. It should be a perk, like free continental breakfast.”
“Miss Montgomery, correct me if I’m wrong, but you are rather a savant with numbers, correct?” Mr. Maxwell said, as if he thought I was adorably naïve. “And a Stanford graduate?”
I gritted my teeth. “Were those rhetorical questions?”
He raised an absurdly sexy eyebrow. “Why would I waste my breath uttering rhetorical questions?”
“Because we both know you already know the answer to both of those questions.” I narrowed my eyes for emphasis.
The bastard smirked as he stood up and rounded his desk. “Indulge me, if you will.”
I sighed. “Yes, I am rather proficient with financial analysis and both my bachelor’s and MBA are from Stanford.”
He leaned against the edge of the mahogany and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, as an Ivy League graduate, one could assume you were familiar with the concept that higher profits for any business was a good thing, correct?”
White-hot visions of jamming my spikey shoe into his shin ran through my head.
“Yes. Your point being?”
“My point is that our target clientele can easily afford to pay admission to a luau. Why wouldn’t we want to increase our profits by charging them for it? Especially for one of this caliber? Plus, when have we ever offered a free meal service?”
I was clenching my jaw so hard, I swore I was about to do permanent damage. I didn’t like the fact that he was looming over me so I rose from my chair and mimicked his posture. “Never.”
“Exactly. Now, tell me, Miss Montgomery, what type of hotel chain does offer free continental breakfasts?”
My body stiffened as I realized I was on the losing end of this debate. “Budget hotel chains.”
He flashed a self-righteous grin. “Right again. And what type of hotel chain are we?”
I had to consciously fight the desire to curl my fists. “We are a luxury hotel chain, sir. As you already know.”
“Of course, I know.” He undid his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up. “But it seems like you need constant reminders lately.”
“I can assure you that I do not.”
I could feel my face flushing in anger and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Once I was this riled up, it was almost impossible to conceal my emotions. I was normally an expert at keeping my cool when Mr. Maxwell pushed my buttons, but insulting my intelligence was the exception to that, it seemed. It was a line he had never crossed before, so I was a bit off-kilter.
He laughed mockingly. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Okay, that was the last straw. I had officially reached my limit. “You’re an asshole.”
Holy shit! I couldn’t believe I’d just said that out loud.
Mr. Maxwell’s ears reddened as he took a few steps toward me. “What did you say, Miss Montgomery?”
I propped a hand on my hip. “You heard me.”
He took one more step and gripped the edge of the desk on each side of me, effectively caging me in. “Let’s say I didn’t. Go ahead and repeat what you said. I fucking dare you.”
Well, crap, there was no sense in backing down now. My pride wouldn’t allow it. I tilted my chin up and looked him directly in the eyes. “I said, you’re an asshole. Surely that’s not the first time someone’s called you that.”
The look he gave me as he rolled my words around in his head was sinful. Predatory, even. I could feel the flood of arousal in my panties, but I remained aloof on the surface. It was probably only a handful of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as we engaged in a silent showdown. I didn’t know which one of us lunged first, but before I knew it, our lips were pressed against each other’s.
I gasped when I felt his hand on my hip, which he took as an open invitation to invade my mouth with his tongue. After that, all hope of pretending this wasn’t happening was gone. Damn, Ronan Maxwell knew how to own a woman’s mouth. I’d imagined kissing him hundreds of times—maybe even thousands—but nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality. He teased me with his tongue, nibbled on my lips, commanded every move. He kissed like he did everything—with pure alpha male dominance. I had never been as willing to submit to someone’s will as I was now. As our mouths moved against each other’s, his thumb inched perilously close to my ass. Fingers clenched around the stretchy fabric of my skirt, as if he were resisting the urge to rip it off my body.
God, I wanted him to rip it off of my body.
I didn’t think I had ever wanted to mount someone and ride them off into the sunset as badly as I did now. A million thoughts raced through my head at once. What was he thinking? Did he feel the same jolt of electricity running through his veins? Why, after two years, did he decide to touch me? From the moment we met, this man had gone out of his way to avoid physical contact. This—whatever it was—was undoubtedly intentional. And as much as I hated to admit it, incredibly arousing.
Mr. Maxwell’s hand wandered down the side of my thigh to the hem of my skirt. When his thumb glided from side to side over the back of my leg, shivers raced down my spine.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” his deep voice rumbled.
“So many things,” I whispered.
His hand climbed higher, dangerously close to discovering how wet my panties were. “Would you like me to stop?”
My brain was screaming, Yes! Run out of the room, dumbass! while my head was shaking emphatically.
“I need the words, Miss Montgomery.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew this was crazy. I knew this was stupid. But I couldn’t tell him to stop if my life had depended on it. “Don’t stop.”
Mr. Maxwell released a harsh exhale. “Thank fuck.”
When I met his gaze, his blue eyes were filled with questions, with unrestrained desire. I couldn’t sort out how I felt about that. I’d spent the last two years fantasizing about this man. Sure, some of those fantasies involved throwing my Jimmy Choos at his forehead, but mostly, they were sexual in nature. Deeply sexual in nature. Frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a dream.
But then I remembered that my dreams never felt this real. I had never felt the warmth of his touch. Never smelled the spiciness of his cologne. Never heard my pulse pounding in my ears. No, this was very much happening, and I was an all-too-willing participant. Lord help me, but I was so on board with this plan, no matter how fucked up it was.
Mr. Maxwell leaned into my body, causing me to bend slightly backward to maintain eye contact. Even wearing five-inch heels, the man still towered over me. Damn, he really was a giant. It was even more apparent standing so close to him.
I braced my hands on the edge of his desk when he reached out with two fingers and traced the length of my jaw. He continued down the slope of my neck and across the width of my collarbone. When he feathered them against the side of my breast, I moaned, making his sexy lips curl up in the corners. With both hands now resting at the curve of my waist, Mr. Maxwell lifted me onto the wooden surface, causing my skirt to ride up my thighs.
We both watched as he bunched the material in his hands, slowly pushing it toward my waist until my satin blue panties were revealed. My body was on autopilot, parting my legs without question, allowing him to look his fill. His breathing quickened and his eyes sparkled when he noticed the obvious wet spot.
I bit my lip when he ran the pad of his thumb over the dampness. “Is this for me, Miss Montgomery? Is your pussy aching, begging for my mouth? My cock?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I whimpered when he slipped beneath the fabric and ran his finger down my slit.
He gave me a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’d like that very much and I suspect you would, too.”
“God,” I panted as he pushed one long finger inside me. I moaned shamelessly when he added another.
He closed his eyes as he pumped in and out, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. From the sheer ecstasy on his face. From the fingers gliding in and out of my body. From the muscles bunching beneath his shirt. I was memorizing every minute detail in that moment, reveling in how incredible it felt.
I must’ve been losing my mind, I’d decided. There was no other explanation for why I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. How did we even get to this point, I wondered? Two minutes ago, we were talking about luaus, and now, my boss was finger fucking me on his desk.
Mr. Maxwell’s eyes snapped open. “Fuck. You’re so tight. So goddamn wet. If I had known you’d be this responsive, I would’ve done this a helluva lot sooner.”
“Stop talking,” I whined.
He released a throaty chuckle. “Make me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Bastard.”
He winked. “Never claimed not to be.”
I growled in frustration. Fine, if he wouldn’t shut up, I would make him shut up. I grabbed his silver tie and yanked him down to my mouth. When he wouldn’t cooperate, I sucked on his pillowy lower lip.
“Kiss me, goddammit.”
He smiled against my lips. “So bossy.”
I bit him this time, and he finally caved. Our kisses were not gentle. They were an erotic duel of sucking, licking, and biting. Mr. Maxwell continued fucking me with his fingers while rolling the pad of his thumb over my clit. He worked me over so well, my body had no choice but to climb higher and higher until I was freefalling into an abyss.
When my inner muscles stopped clenching, he withdrew his fingers and pressed them against my lips, prompting me to open. I sucked them into my mouth down to the knuckle, locking eyes with him the entire time. God, this was such a lewd act, but it was also so erotic, I couldn’t find the will to care. And with the way Mr. Maxwell was looking at me, I’d say he was just as turned on by it as I was.
When he withdrew his fingers, I made quick work of his belt buckle and unzipped his slacks. My hand dove into his boxer briefs and grabbed onto his cock. Jesus, he was huge! Sylvie was right; the man was packing some serious heat.
Mr. Maxwell groaned as I stroked his length.
“Do you even know how to use this thing?”
He gave me a wicked grin. “I’m going to make you regret that, wiseass.”
I raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Go ahead. Put your money where your mouth is. Or in this case, your dick.”
He retrieved a condom from his wallet and shoved my hand away to slide it down his shaft. Once he was fully sheathed, he moved my panties to the side and pressed the flared head against my entrance. “Last chance to back out, Miss Montgomery.”
I scoffed. “Not happening. Show me what you’ve got.”
He made a low, growly noise as he untucked my blouse and ripped it over my head. His hands slid up my ribcage, to my breasts, until he was moving his thumbs over my erect nipples through my bra. The combination of his rough touch and the lacy fabric was almost too much. I was on stimulation overload, yet I still couldn’t get enough. I pressed into his palms, demanding more.
Losing patience, I leaned back on my elbows, dug my heels into his ass and pulled him forward. Mr. Maxwell took the hint and in one smooth motion, thrust deep inside of me. My moans echoed throughout the room, which should’ve been appalling to me, but it wasn’t, because he felt too good. Better than any man I’d ever been with. He instantly made me wild with lust. I screamed, I cursed, I shamelessly begged for more.
He leaned over, fanning his arms to clear the surface, and set a punishing rhythm. I was vaguely aware of various desk items hitting the floor, but that was drowned out by the sound of our skin slapping together.
“What’s that, Miss Montgomery? You want more?” His jaw clenched as he went deeper, harder. “It sure seems like I do know how to use this thing, doesn’t it? You’ve never had better dick.”
Oh my God, why did I suddenly find his cockiness unbearably hot? He laughed mockingly when my eyes rolled back as he thumbed my clit.
“Mediocre at best,” I lied.
Mr. Maxwell grabbed my ankle and propped my stiletto over his shoulder. Fuck, he was so deep like this, I knew I would be sore later. To my absolute horror, I found myself pleased with that fact.
“Such a fucking liar,” he seethed. “Your pussy is dripping all over my cock. You’ve never been fucked this thoroughly before.”
There was no way in hell I was telling him that he was right. “Shut. Up.”
“Or what?” he taunted as he yanked my bra cup down and pinched my nipple.
“Ahhh... God... just stop talking and make me come!”
He gave me a wicked smile. “Say please, Miss Montgomery.”
My eyes flew to his and narrowed. “Fuck. You.”
He pushed in even harder. “Already doing that, sweetheart.” He circled my nub until I was on the precipice of release. Right before I flew over, he pulled his thumb away.
“Fuck!” I balled my fists and screamed in frustration. “Do you always have to be such a bastard? Think about someone other than yourself for a change!”
“Say...” Thrust. “Please.” Thrust.
I tried to take matters into my own hands, but he cuffed my wrists over my head before I could do so. “Motherfu—”
He stilled inside of me and bit my lip so hard, I was sure he’d drawn blood. “Nice try. Now, why don’t you be a good girl and ask nicely?” When I refused to speak, he started toying with my slick flesh again, until I was a writhing, whimpering mess. “Say please and I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget why you were mad at me.”
I tried to resist. I really did. But when he started moving again, driving himself deeper and harder with each thrust, all while moving his thumb against my clit using the perfect amount of pressure, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I groaned. “Please!”
He turned his head and bit the skin right above my ankle. “Please, what?”
I glared. “Please make me come, you fucking bastard!”
Mr. Maxwell smiled down at me. “It’ll be my pleasure, Miss Montgomery.”
Within seconds, lightning shot down my spine and I was screaming. Quaking. Gasping for air. When my orgasm finally subsided, he bent forward and began moving with renewed purpose. I knew his biting kisses down my neck would leave marks, but in that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted whatever he would give me. I wanted every part of him.
He wasn’t the asshole who’d been tormenting me for the last two years. He wasn’t even my boss. He was simply a beautiful man who was responsible for the best sexual experience of my life. My fantasies, as plentiful as they were, hadn’t done him justice. If sex were an Olympic sport, Ronan Maxwell would take home the gold every damn time, leaving a heap of quivering women in his wake.
With one final thrust, he buried his face into my neck and found his own release. After a few moments, he placed one surprisingly gentle kiss on my neck, pulled out of me, and took a step back.
Suddenly feeling awkward, I hopped off the desk, pulling my skirt down my thighs. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him now that I was no longer blinded by lust. Regret and shame hung heavily in the air. I spotted my blouse on the floor, picked it up, and quickly pulled it over my head. The seconds ticked by in silence, the only sounds in the room were the pull of a zipper, the clang of a belt buckle, and the swishing of fabric as we dressed.
When I had finally made myself presentable, I hurried out of his office, praying that my shaky legs wouldn’t betray me. I retrieved my purse from my desk, not even bothering to check if I had shut down my computer, and bolted to the elevators.
“Come on, come on,” I whispered, as I bounced frantically, waiting for the lift to arrive.
Once it did, I ran inside and pressed the button for the underground garage. As the doors were closing, I made the mistake of looking up. Mr. Maxwell was standing no more than five feet away, looking at me with pure hatred in his gaze. He made no attempt to stop me, he just stood there, staring me directly in the eyes, so I could feel the full force of his rage.
Five minutes ago, this man had made me feel better than I would’ve ever thought possible. Now, I didn’t think I could possibly feel any worse.
What had I done?
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