Page 46 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

“Be quiet and eat the cookie, Jordan.”

“You are unspeakably rude,” she replied, then took a huge bite. When her eyes rolled back and a noise of pure pleasure came from her throat, a grin stole over my lips. She chewed slowly, another of those delightful sounds escaping her closed lips, and I felt a twitch below my belt.

Tearing my gaze away from Nikki’s chocolate-chip cookie-induced ecstasy, I took a bite of my own. Delicious. I couldn’t help the groan that slipped out of me, and Nikki grunted in agreement.

We ate in silence, savoring the deliciousness as Manhattan life buzzed just outside the car. Traffic flew past, cars honked, and people hurried along the sidewalk. I saw none of it. All that existed was buttery, crispy-chewy perfection, chocolate, and Nikki.

“Wow,” she finally said, popping a finger in her mouth to lick the tip. That nearly made me groan again, but I pulled some napkins out of the center console instead. She thanked me as I offered her one, and we cleaned up the evidence of our gluttony.

“I gotta hand it to you, Blakely,” Nikki finally said when our cleanup was done. “That was one amazing cookie.”

I grinned. “Glad you’ve come to the correct conclusion,” I said. “I was worried I’d have to fire you when you pulled those crimes against cookies out of your purse.”

When I looked up to catch Nikki’s gaze, I noticed a little spot of chocolate on the corner of her lip. Before I could stop myself, my hand rose, and I caught the smudge with my thumb. Nikki’s eyes widened, but she didn’t pull back. If anything, she leaned into me, mouth dropping slightly open as her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip.

It caught the edge of my thumb, and I found myself leaning into her, gaze caught by her perfectly formed mouth. I needed to taste it. Needed to feel it against mine. Needed to know if kissing her would make this ache inside me go away.

I was hard as rock behind the placket of my pants. I wished we were in my apartment instead of in this tiny car. Wished I had her propped up on my dining room table so I could smear chocolate over her skin to lick it off. Wished I could take my time kissing her until I knew I’d had enough.

Nikki’s breath coasted across my wrist, her lashes fluttering as she tilted her head?—

A honk right outside my door made us both jump. My hand dropped from her face, and Nikki backed away like she’d been burned. The box of cookies slid from her legs, and she scrambled to catch them before they landed on the floor.

“I—uh—” She gulped. “I don’t know?—”

“I should take you home,” I said, putting the car in gear and keeping my eyes pointed firmly forward.

“Just drop me off at the subway,” she said, and we both knew I’d ignore that particular request. By the time I pulled up outside her apartment, the temperature in the car had cooled.

When Nikki handed the box to me, I shook my head. “Keep them,” I said.

Her fingers curled around the edges of the box, and she nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

We didn’t mention the… What was it that had happened earlier? An almost kiss? A moment of insanity? A narrow miss?

Whatever it was, it remained unspoken. Nikki opened her door and put her foot on the pavement outside, as if to assure herself that she was still on solid ground. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the cookies.”

“Tomorrow,” I managed to grunt, then waited until she was safely inside before driving away.

That couldn’t happen again. No matter how much I wanted it to, I couldn’t let my control slip like that in the future. She was my employee, and we were already navigating a precarious relationship. If it got complicated—and if anyone found out—I could lose everything.

I’d hired her to stand at my side and make me look good. That’s all she would be to me, no matter how much I wanted more.

SEVENTEEN

NIKKI

The cookies lastedall of two days. Loath as I was to admit it, they were the best I’d ever had. Not that I’d ever tell Rome that particular fact. Whatever had happened in the car got buried under a thick layer of professionalism, and for the next week, neither of us edged anywhere near the line of impropriety. I did research and prepared for all the upcoming events on our calendar. I didn’t want to mess this up—especially not by kissing my boss.

The last event before our jaunt to the Hamptons for Raphael Garcia’s anniversary party was a gala honoring Rome’s parents for their work with the Society of Gout Sufferers of New York, for which the Blakelys were apparently major donors.

I could tell Rome was dreading the evening the minute I slipped into the back seat of the car. I’d chosen a simple black velvet dress with matching black gloves for the night, trying to keep it elegant and understated. I tucked the bottom of my dress inside the car and nodded at Keith, who closed the door beside me.

Clasping my black clutch on my lap, I glanced over at my boss. His jaw was tight and his eyes glued to the window, where rain splattered the car and the city beyond it. The privacy screen was up, which meant he hadn’t even wanted Keith’s subtle attention on him. My presence was probably an irritant, but if I was to do my job properly, I had to lift his mood before we got to the event.

The car pulled away from the curb, and Rome still hadn’t said a word.

“It’s getting cold out these days,” I said to fill the silence.

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