Page 49 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

“In here.” Rome pushed open a door at the top of the stairs. To our left, the sound of conversation filtered through. There were a few tables on the mezzanine level overlooking the main event space, but he led me to the right, into what looked like a smaller, private dining space that hadn’t been set up for the event. Chairs were stacked around the edges of the room, with a few boxes full of miscellaneous supplies strewn here and there. A long table dominated the space, with light from the big dormer windows illuminating the room.

The door latched shut, and I turned to face him. My heart thumped as my throat constricted, but I had to get the words out—had to explain. “I’m sorry,” I said, staring at his bowtie. He’d shaved, but I could see the shadow of his beard on his jaw and throat. “I shouldn’t have said anything. She was just being so horrible to you, and I couldn’t take it.”

“To...me?”

I blinked, lifting my gaze. “What?”

“You’re upset because she was being horrible to me?” His brows tugged together.

I gulped and nodded. “Well…yeah. All that crap about you coming alone. It’s like theywantyou to be miserable. Not that I’m the one to make you happy, butsomeonewill. And you deserve that! But the way they talk, it’s like they want you to just stand there and absorb all their criticism because it’s your job. It’s not right, Rome. It just isn’t.”

My eyes stung, and I blinked a few times to clear them. When I finally looked up again, Rome’s expression had changed. His eyes were focused on me with an intensity that made me suddenly go still.

“You weren’t upset about what they were saying about you? Talking like you weren’t even there?”

I shrugged. “Sure, but I mean, whatever. No offense, but they kind of suck. So their opinion doesn’t really matter to me.” I took a deep breath, dropping my gaze to his bowtie again. I knew what I needed to say, and I didn’t think I could do it while looking at his face. “I understand if you need to fire me. I know I was out of line down there, and I completely failed at my job. I should never have talked back, especially not to your family andespeciallynot when they’re the point of this whole event. So, it’s okay. I understand?—”

He hummed, then lifted his hand and slid it over my jaw to curl around the side of my neck. The movement startled me so much I stopped talking and looked up at him.

“I’m not going to fire you, Jordan,” he said, his voice warm and faintly amused.

“You’re not?”

“Why would I fire the only person who’s ever ridden to my defense?”

At my startled blink, he let out a low chuckle—then he dipped his head and before I knew what was happening, my billionaire boss pressed his lips to mine and kissed me.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a kiss that said,I’ve been waiting for this moment. He curled his fingers around my neck and banded his other arm around my back, pulling me flush to his body. I clutched his shoulders and kissed him back, heat burning away every thought that might have crowded my mind and stopped me.

His lips demanded so much of me. He kissed to possess. To own. The arm around my back shifted and his hand slid down to my ass, squeezing. He groaned against my mouth then moved to kiss my jaw, my neck, and back up again. His hand clutched my hair as he bent me backward, and all I could do was pant and cling on for dear life.

“You make me want things no man has any business wanting,” he said, voice like gravel. He pulled away to look in my eyes, his hands still holding me exactly where he wanted me.

“Like what?” My chest heaved. My mind reeled. I didn’t know what was happening, but it felt so good I couldn’t stop. He walked me backward until my shoulder blades hit the wall, then pinned me there with the bulk of his body. His hands slipped down my arms to my wrists, which he circled with his fingers and brought up above my head, pinning them there with one hand.

“Like this,” he said darkly. “You, breathless.” His free hand moved to my face, and he traced the outline of my bottom lip. “Your lipstick smudged.”

“Some of it ended up on you,” I noted, glancing at the red smeared on his lips.

He grinned. “Good,” he said, then kissed me again.

Rome was no gentler the second time around. He pinned me to the wall with his hips against mine and his hand shackling my wrists, his free hand tilting my head so he could kiss the breath out of me. His tongue slid against mine as he groaned, and then his teeth nipped at my lip. I laughed, leaning my head against the wall, loving the way he was watching me, like he’d forgotten where and who we were.

In that moment, I’d forgotten too.

All that existed was the dark heat in his eyes, the press of his body against mine, the heat burning through me. I’d never felt so consumed by a man before. I’d never had my mind go so quiet, where all that mattered was the feel of his body, the rhythm of his breath, the sin in his gaze.

We kissed until our movements became frantic. He dropped my wrists and I clung to his lapels, my hips bucking against him. I could feel him pressed against me, hard, needy. His hands cupped my breasts, fingers digging into the flesh above the sweetheart neckline, and then he grabbed my thighs and spread them, holding me pinned to the wall in that darkened room where we had no business being.

I moaned, muffling the sound against his neck. My core pulsed. I wanted him inside me.

A dish clattered outside the door, and reality intruded. We flew apart. I ended up clutching the wall, gasping for breath. Rome stood with his back to me, his hands leaning on the table in the middle of the room, head bowed. Silence pressed in.

Gulping, I took a deep breath and bent down to pick up the clutch I’d dropped at some point in our little encounter. Thoughts came to me in fits and starts. My hands trembled. I unclasped the kiss lock at the top of my clutch and pulled out my compact mirror and the travel-sized makeup wipes I always brought with me.

Rome glanced my way, his eyes dark. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

His mouth was smeared with lipstick. My heart thumped. “It certainly went against the code of conduct from Appendix B,” I noted, then pulled out a makeup wipe and handed it to him before pointing to my own lips.

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