Bad Boss
‘What does it matter whether the date comes before the sex?’ I didn’t like dates, mainly because they consisted of pointless small talk, and I couldn’t do small talk. Sex was much easier for me. I rubbed my thumb over her bottom lip again, feeling her shiver beneath my hand. ‘I can’t promise that I’ll be an entertaining date, but I can promise that you’ll climax many times in my bed.’
I didn’t think it was possible for her face to get any redder, or for her eyes to get even wider, but it seemed it was entirely possible.
How interesting. I’d never flustered Morgan Blackwood before. She got impatient with me, and sometimes angry, but I’d never made her eyes go smoky the way they were now. I’d never made her blush. And I wasn’t sure why that made me feel good, when it had never occurred to me to fluster her before, but it did.
‘Ulysses,’ she said again.
But I was tired of arguing. ‘I’m going to kiss you,’ I said. ‘Do you agree?’ I always asked. I had to be careful with emotional cues, as I tended to miss them, and since a woman’s climax was dependent on her enjoying the sexual interaction I always made sure she was a willing participant.
Morgan was trembling slightly. ‘I…don’t know.’
‘Why don’t you know?’
‘Because…this is very sudden.’ Her gaze dropped to my mouth and it made my cock harden.
It was an intriguing sensation. I’d never considered Morgan as a sex partner, mainly because of my association with her brother and his request that I look after her. Also, it had never occurred to me. Sex I could get from any woman, so why would I complicate matters by getting it from her?
Yet now I was considering doing just that, and it was an interesting prospect. What would she be like in bed? Would her body go pink and would she writhe beneath me? What would her climax look like? Would she scream, like some women did, or would she bury her face in the pillow? Or would she be silent, closing her eyes and panting as it washed over her? Would she like to be held down—a personal fantasy of mine—or would she struggle against my hold? Would she find being restrained a turn-on?
‘Your body doesn’t seem to find it sudden,’ I pointed out.
‘No, but my head needs to catch up.’ She took a breath. ‘You do understand that, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ I paused. ‘Do you need a seduction?’ Some women did before they felt they could participate. ‘Or would you prefer me just to take the kiss without asking?’ Again, something else that some women liked.
Her pupils dilated even further. ‘I…beg your pardon?’
Was that a fear response? I couldn’t tell. Further testing seemed to be required.
‘I could force you into a kiss,’ I explained, watching her face carefully. ‘Some women enjoy it. They find it adds excitement.’
She was trembling harder now, the pulse at the base of her throat even faster. Her eyes were very dark, only a sliver of blue showing around the inky black of her pupils. ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was slightly thicker this time, her gaze dropping once more to my mouth. ‘I don’t know what I like.’
Interesting. Well, she might not know what she liked, but I’d given her the opportunity to say no and she hadn’t said it. And, given how she was looking at my mouth, it seemed clear that she wasn’t averse to the idea of kissing it.
So I tightened my grip on her chin. ‘Let’s find out, then,’ I said. And I bent my head and covered her lips with mine.
CHAPTER THREE
Morgan
I DIDN’T KNOW what was happening. One minute I’d been complaining about Ulysses not approving my leave request, the next we were talking about sex, closely followed by him getting in my face, taking my chin in one large, capable hand and insisting on giving me proof of his bedroom skills.
And I hadn’t pushed him away. I hadn’t even said no.
I’d just stood there and let it happen as he’d bent his head and kissed me.
If I’d ever imagined Ulysses’s kiss—and believe me, I hadn’t—I’d have imagined it as cold and as passionless as his icy black eyes.
I was wrong.
His mouth was firm and not cold in the slightest. In fact, it was warm, so very, very warm. And there was a gentleness to the kiss that I hadn’t expected, his lips brushing over mine, lightly testing.
A shudder worked its way down my spine and my lungs felt empty of air. All my awareness zeroed in on his mouth and how it felt on mine, and how very different it was from any other kisses I’d experienced in my life.
Not that I’d experienced very many. I’d gone to an exclusive girls’ school back in Australia, where I’d grown up, and had always been conscious that Damian had worked very hard to send me there. I hadn’t wanted to squander the educational opportunity by messing around, like some of my friends had.
Once I’d left school, I’d gone straight to London and had ended up working for Ulysses, and the long hours had pretty much cemented my status as a virgin. Until a few years later, when I’d decided I’d had enough and had used a dating app to finally get rid of my bloody hymen.
The experience had been dull and kind of awful so I hadn’t been in any hurry to repeat it, happy to remain boyfriend-less for the next few years. Until Damian had got married. Until I’d realised that I was lonely and didn’t want to be lonely any more.
Until bloody Ulysses White had kissed me.
It wasn’t like the one time with that guy—I couldn’t even remember his name… Brian Someone-or-other—whose kiss had been tentative, hesitant and awkward. I hadn’t wanted any of those things. I’d wanted passion and intensity. I’d wanted to be gripped and held tight, and kissed as if he couldn’t get enough of me. As if he was desperate for a taste.
Ulysses’s grip tightened on my chin, holding me with exactly the right kind of firmness, taking control effortlessly and with a practised mastery that left me shaking. He touched his tongue to my bottom lip, tasting, coaxing, and I found myself opening up to him, letting him inside.
It was wrong to let him kiss me like this, to let him take it from me without asking. But he’d asked me what I’d liked and I’d told him I didn’t know.
I was a liar. I did know. I just hadn’t wanted to say—not when the last time I’d voiced my fantasies it had turned out badly. Yet somehow he’d known anyway, kissing me exactly the way I wanted him to.
The kiss deepened and I nearly moaned. His mouth was hot and he tasted spicy and rich, like a good, smoky whiskey.
My hands lifted to his chest, my fingers curling in the crisp cotton of his shirt. There was an ache inside me, a pulsing pressure between my thighs, and I had no idea why, since I’d never felt anything like this around him before. Never, ever.
His tongue stroked deep inside my mouth, and my head fell back, allowing him to kiss me deeper. I shut my eyes, his sensual flavour unravelling every expectation I had, coaxing me to respond, to kiss him back.
But I wanted more. Wanted harder. Rougher. To be shoved back against that desk, his mouth taking and taking…
Are you out of your goddamn mind?
My fantasy came to a screaming halt, realisation hitting me like a bucket of cold water. My boss of nearly eight years was kissing me in the middle of the day, in the middle of his office, because he wanted to give me proof that he was good in bed.
Because he’d offered to have sex with me.
And I was letting him.
What the hell was I doing?
I went to push him away, but he was already doing it, letting go of my chin and stepping back. And my body was so behind my brain that I almost followed him, almost kept hold of his shirt to keep that masterful mouth on mine.
He frowned, then smoothed his shirt where I’d been holding it. ‘Well?’ His voice was its usual cold self, as if he hadn’t just kissed me silly. ‘Is that proof enough for you?’
I surreptitiously braced myself on the table behind me, my knees weak. ‘Proof enough?’ I echoed, my thought processes sluggish. ‘What?’
His expression turned impatient. ‘Proof enough that I know what I’m doing when it comes to sex.’
I tried to kick-start my stupid brain. Yes, that was why he’d kissed me. Because of what I’d said about a holiday. About meeting someone and dating and… Shit. Getting laid.
What had possessed me to say that? What had possessed me to stand there and let him kiss me?
You liked the kiss, though.
I shivered, trying to ignore how hot and sensitised my mouth felt and how his rich, spicy flavour lingered on my tongue. Trying to ignore how much I’d liked the firm way he’d held me and the confident mastery of the kiss.
Because, even if I’d liked it, I couldn’t let anything more happen. He was my boss and, no matter what he said, sleeping with him would complicate matters. If I was going to meet a man, it had to be one who was not related to my working life in any way.
I leaned against the table, annoyed that I was the one getting all weak-kneed while he stood there in his usual way, as if nothing touched him.
I knew Ulysses did actually have feelings. He was highly uncomfortable in social situations, and when he was uncomfortable he got agitated and angry. Just as when he was involved in a project that consumed his attention, he’d sometimes hum under his breath, which meant he was happy. Or at least content.
But he didn’t look angry now, and he wasn’t humming, and that meant he didn’t feel anything. It bothered me. Almost as if I wanted him to be as affected by that kiss as I’d been, which was ridiculous.
‘Well?’ he demanded, impatient with my silence.
‘It was a…very effective demonstration,’ I said, clearing my throat.
‘Yes,’ he agreed with his customary self-confidence. ‘Of course it was.’
‘But I’m still going to have to decline. I can’t have sex with you, Ulysses.’
His frown became ferocious. He wasn’t often thwarted, got irritated when he was, and he clearly was now. ‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘You were very aroused by that kiss, I could tell.’
I could feel my cheeks get hot again. ‘You’re still my boss.’
‘So? I understand that complicates things for you, but it wouldn’t complicate anything at all for me.’
I tried not to sigh. ‘That’s kind of the point. I don’t want to go to bed with someone who doesn’t really want me.’
His frown became a scowl, his black eyes focusing on me intently. ‘You think I’m not sexually aroused by you?’
‘Well, I—’
‘Give me your hand.’ He held out his commandingly.
I swallowed, having a good idea of where this was going. ‘Ulysses…’
‘Give me your hand.’
I extended my hand and, sure enough, he brought my palm down over the fly of his trousers. The wool was warm and smooth, and I expected to feel nothing but distaste for the hard ridge I could feel there. Yet instead of distaste electricity whispered over my skin. He was hotter than I’d expected, and so much harder. Long and thick…
Awareness filtered through me that it was his cock I had my hand on, and that there was no doubting the fact that he was hard. Very, very hard.
He might only have offered to sleep with me for the sake of my so-called productivity, but his body wanted me. Sure, he might have got hard for any random woman, but here, right now, that random woman was me.
And you like that. You like that a lot.
He was a powerful man, the head of a multi-billion-dollar company. He snapped his fingers and the stock markets fell or rose, depending on what he was doing. CEOs of other major companies rushed to do his bidding. He probably owned half of London.
And yet I, a little nobody from Sydney, Australia, held him in the palm of my hand.
‘You see?’ His obsidian eyes glittered. ‘I’m hard for you.’
I wanted to pull my hand away and have him press his down on mine, holding it there. But that would mean giving in to those very wrong urges, so I left my hand where it was. Not that it was a bad place for it to be. The hard line of his cock burned against my palm and, inexplicably, I wanted to close my hand around it, see what he’d do if I did.
You know what he’d do.
A shiver ghosted along my skin, raising goose bumps. Yes, I did know. He wouldn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t be shy. He’d lift me up on this table and he’d push me down and I…
Crap. Stop. I wasn’t going there with Ulysses, and certainly not with that particular fantasy.
‘That’s got nothing to do with me,’ I said coolly, finally dropping my hand from him. ‘That’s only because I happen to be female.’
‘Of course it’s got something to do with you.’ He sounded irritated. ‘I wouldn’t have kissed you if you were male, because I’m straight.’
Literal. Always so literal.
‘What I mean is that you’re not attracted to me in particular,’ I pointed out, trying to be patient.
‘No.’ Ulysses’s stare was unrelenting. ‘It’s true that I wasn’t attracted to you before. But I am now.’
‘What? Just like that?’
‘Yes.’ His gaze roved over me. ‘Do you want me to kiss you again? Or perhaps I shouldn’t ask. You liked it when I did that just before.’
My mouth had gone dry. He was only this intense when he was focused on a particular project, and only when he was really interested in it. He’d never looked at me that way before, and I couldn’t understand why I liked it. And I did like it. I really liked it.
Because no one has ever looked at you that way before.
It was true. Not even my single, solitary date. He hadn’t looked at me as if I’d been fascinating, and he definitely hadn’t taken a kiss from me. He hadn’t taken hold of me at all, and when he’d touched me it had been hesitant. So I’d asked—awkwardly—if he could hold me tighter, kiss me harder, perhaps even hold me down. He’d been horrified, looking at me as if I’d been crazy, so I’d never mentioned it again. To anyone.
But I hadn’t even had to ask Ulysses. He’d simply taken that kiss the way I’d secretly longed a man do, and his grip on my chin had been perfect. And I’d had the sense that I could have pushed against his hard chest and he wouldn’t have moved. Wouldn’t have let me go…
My breathing ramped up, the thought of him grabbing me and kissing me again exciting, though along with the excitement came a sense of shame. My one-night-stand had made me feel bad about what I’d wanted and part of me had agreed with him. Because, seriously, what woman got excited about the thought of being held down? Of struggling against a man far stronger and more powerful than she was? Of not being able to escape?
You do.
Yeah, but why? What was it about me? Maybe it was the whole wrongness of it, which was a whole can of worms I hadn’t expected to open. At least, not right now.
God. I’d only applied for some bloody leave.
‘You’re not going to approve my leave application?’ I pushed myself away from the table, struggling to get back on track.
‘Of course I’m not,’ Ulysses snapped. ‘Not with the Black and White Foundation party coming up. I need you, Morgan, and there’ll be no more discussion about it.’
Damn him. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. When he made up his mind about something, he seldom changed it. And, as reluctant as I was to admit it, the upcoming party for Black and White Enterprises’ new charity for underprivileged kids was a worthy cause. We wanted to thank the donors for their generosity and, as it was a purely social occasion, Ulysses would want me to handle it personally, because he couldn’t.
‘Now,’ he went on in his characteristically impatient way. ‘Answer the question, please.’
Right. The question. About kisses and whether I wanted him just to take them…
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to think about that, because I knew the answer would be yes. And possibly want him to take more than a kiss. Which meant no, it wasn’t happening.
‘I’d rather not talk about this just now,’ I said with as much dignity as I could muster. ‘In fact, could we forget about the entire thing?’
But he showed no sign either of moving to let me pass or forgetting about anything. ‘We can’t forget about it. And it doesn’t solve the fact that you said you wanted a holiday in order to be more productive.’
Bloody man. He wasn’t going to let me sweep this whole embarrassing incident under the carpet, was he? And, yes, it was embarrassing. For me.
Oh, come on, you’re intrigued—don’t deny it.
I couldn’t deny it. But I didn’t want to confront that just yet, at least not while he was in my immediate vicinity. ‘Fine,’ I snapped back. ‘I’ll think about it, okay?’
And, before he could reply, I pushed past him and went out, slamming his office door behind me.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ulysses
I WORKED LATE that night, as per usual, but I found it difficult to concentrate. I kept getting distracted by the memory of Morgan’s face after I’d kissed her. By the red flush in her cheeks and how pouty and full her mouth had looked. By that beauty spot above her mouth and how it bothered me. How it made me want to taste it.
The whole thing was annoying, especially the way she’d walked out of my office without answering my question. She hadn’t come back either, and when I’d asked one of my secretaries to find her I was told she’d gone home with a headache.
Morgan never got headaches, though, which meant she’d excused herself from work for some other reason.
Normally I wouldn’t have wasted my time trying to sort out what that reason could be, because my time was literally money. But Morgan’s presence was vital and I didn’t like that she’d absented herself without telling me.
Why had she done that? She often did inexplicable things, but I didn’t tend to notice unless they actively impacted on me. Such as her way with people, and how she managed to make them smile, and how she talked to them so easily. She didn’t get impatient and was able to navigate social situations with an adeptness I admired, because it wasn’t something I could do myself. I had very few weaknesses but I didn’t like social gatherings. People irritated me and I couldn’t be bothered with the pointless small talk that seemed to be required whenever more than two people were in a room. Business topics I had no issues with, but when conversations included things like the weather, the traffic and how people were feeling that day then I got impatient.
It was all meaningless to me. All pointless. I didn’t understand the jokes people made and I often had the sense that there were unspoken discussions being had that I wasn’t a part of, discussions that everyone else could understand. Before Morgan had come to work for me, I hadn’t attended any social gatherings, but since she’d become my assistant and handled those situations for me I could deal with them in a limited way.
What was especially irritating, though, was that the Black and White Foundation donors seemed to require a party to thank them for their donations. I wasn’t sure why they needed to be thanked, as the cause was good, but Morgan had assured me that people liked to be acknowledged for their charity.
I’d been hoping Damian would be back so he could go in my stead but since he and Everett had seemingly both disappeared off the face of the earth it was left to me to deal with it.
Or rather, Morgan. Which meant I couldn’t approve her leave right now.
I glared at my computer screen, unable to stop thinking about how she’d walked out of my office earlier that day. She’d gone very quickly, almost as if she’d wanted to get out fast. Was she angry with me for refusing her request?
She hadn’t been pleased, but surely she understood how important the foundation was? I couldn’t allow her a holiday, but I had offered to give her the other things she’d wanted. Or was it about something else?
She was confusing about the kiss.
I leaned back in my chair and swivelled it round so I faced the windows and the lights of London spread out beneath me. I liked looking at those lights. They showed me the patterns of the streets and I could map the entire city in my head. It was soothing.
Except the lights weren’t soothing tonight. My cock was hard—irritating, given I couldn’t concentrate when I needed sex.
I couldn’t get the taste of Morgan’s mouth out of my head.
She’d liked the kiss, and she’d liked it when I’d mentioned taking another one from her, and I didn’t understand why she hadn’t admitted it. I didn’t understand why she didn’t want to accept my offer of sex either, when it was clear the thought had excited her. I knew she had reservations about me being her boss, and that she needed some time to think about it, but she’d already had…what? A good six hours. Surely that was enough time?
I reached for my phone, deciding against a text and calling her instead.
The phone rang for a long time, which was strange, because normally she answered on the second ring. But this time she didn’t answer until the tenth, and when she did she sounded tired. ‘What is it, Ulysses? Can I not have a single evening without you in it?’
‘I’m not anywhere near your evening. I’m here at the office.’
‘Are you ever anywhere else?’
‘Sometimes.’ Surely that was obvious? ‘Sometimes I’m at home. Why do you ask?’
She sighed. ‘It’s fine. I was just being sarcastic.’
I scowled at the lights outside. ‘Well, don’t be. You know I don’t like it when you are.’
‘Well, I don’t like it when you kiss me out of the blue.’ Her voice sounded less tired and more sharp.
‘It wasn’t out of the blue. I told you I was going to kiss you.’ I began the process of mapping the city again, following the lights, trying to soothe the agitation inside me. ‘You went home today without telling me.’
‘I had a headache. I thought you wouldn’t mind.’
Lies were difficult for me to pick up on, especially with people I didn’t know, but I knew when Morgan was lying because her voice got very flat. And it was very flat now. ‘You don’t sound sorry,’ I said. ‘And you didn’t have a headache. And, yes, I do mind.’
There was a silence.
‘How do you know I didn’t have a headache?’ she asked.
‘Because you’ve never gone home with a headache before.’ I felt restless all of a sudden, impatient. I didn’t want to talk about her headache or why she’d gone home. Those things were murky and difficult to grasp, especially when what I really wanted was to kiss her again. ‘Have you thought about it?’
‘Thought about what?’
‘About whether or not you want to take up my offer of sex. You’ve had about six hours to think about it, which should be more than enough time.’
She was silent.
‘Are you worried I’ll require a relationship from you?’ Perhaps that was what was causing her doubt. ‘You needn’t, if so. I don’t have relationships with the women I sleep with.’
‘That’s…not what I’m worried about.’
‘But you still haven’t made up your mind?’
‘Ulysses.’ Her voice was now quiet. ‘Why are you pursuing this so hard? Why not call one of your other women if you want sex so very badly?’
I studied the lights outside, uncomfortable at the thought of confessing this to her, though I had no reason to be. ‘I don’t want one of those other women. I want you.’
‘Oh,’ she said.
People didn’t say no to me. They always did what I told them, gave me what I asked for, and there were only two people in the entire world who wouldn’t do those things.
Damian and Everett were those two people.
But I was beginning to realise that there was a third.
Morgan.
‘This…wouldn’t affect our working relationship, would it?’ she asked after a long moment.
‘Why would it?’
‘No.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t with you.’
‘Of course not. Sex has nothing to do with our working relationship except where it affects your productivity.’