Page 71 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

“I’ll have the rest of that cookie now,” I said, noticing the way she squirmed ever so slightly on my desk, the way her fingers trembled as she reached into the bag.

My girl loved being told what to do. She loved the risk of this moment. Hell, I loved it too. Being with her was the only time I felt alive.

Another piece of cookie appeared at my lips, and I frowned at her. “Bite-size pieces, Nikki,” I chastised.

A gust of breath escaped her as she broke the piece in two before presenting it to me again. I caught her fingers in my mouth once more. Her breaths became ragged. I smiled at the way she squeezed her thighs together while I watched.

No, I wasn’t going to let her go. And I wasn’t attending these boring events on my own. And I also wasn’t going to deny her the chance to attend the ballet if that’s what she wanted to do. Hell, I was mostly mad at myself that I hadn’t thought of it first—that I hadn’t even known she’d want to.

This girl was mine to cherish. Mine to spoil. Mine to keep.

It was easy to remember that when a flush was draped across her cheeks from the simple brush of my tongue on her fingertips.

We finished the cookie. I stood, and she spread her knees to give me space between them. Perfect, willing woman. Her gaze was heavy-lidded as she watched me, chin tilted up like she needed my kiss.

She needed something else too. I slid my hand up under her skirt, cupping the warm, wet heat of her. When I squeezed, she let out a whimper. “Is this what you want?” I asked, and the gravel in my voice made it almost unrecognizable. “You want me to make you come?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s why you came in here teasing me with cookies, with that dress and those shoes?”

Her lips kicked, a sassy arch lifting her brow. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to make you feel good. Thank you for a nice weekend.”

I massaged her core and let out a huff. “I bet you did.”

When I pulled my hand away, she moved her hips to chase me. Greedy woman. I smacked her lightly on the gusset of her wet panties, and her lips fell open on a breath, hips rolling to meet my hand. My cock was so hard it ached.

“We have a meeting to go to,” I told her, and I twitched her skirt back into place. Her pout made me laugh, and I brushed my lips against hers. I pulled her off the desk and steadied her as she stood. “And Nikki,” I said, “you’re not allowed to touch yourself until I say so. Not allowed to ease that ache between your legs until I do it for you.”

She glared at me. “This is the last time I’m ever doing something nice for you.”

I grinned. “I doubt that very much.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

NIKKI

The inklingthat I might be in over my head entered my mind as I sat in that boardroom, as horny as I’d ever been, trying to focus on the schedule projected on the far wall. The rasp of my underwear against my tender flesh was almost too much, especially when I glanced across the long table and found Rome’s gaze on me.

“…and Raphael Garcia has approved our initial storyboards, and he wants to take you out to dinner to talk through the new plan,” Clara explained. “He specifically asked for Nikki to be there. I’ve slotted that in for Thursday evening.”

Rome’s gaze left mine, and I felt like I could breathe. He nodded at Clara. “Good. Send me the names of the team members that got that over the line this weekend and I’ll head down to thank them in person.”

“Will do,” Clara said, fingers flying over her tablet. A chime sounded from Rome’s phone a moment later.

The woman was an efficiency machine. I tried to uncross my eyes to focus on what was going on. The perfume commercial. My idea. Right.

Minor tweaks were made to the schedule, and I jotted down some notes about events. I’d have to research some of the upcoming projects and clients and make sure I had the appropriate clothing to wear to a few of these formal events. There was one white-tie gala that would require a new dress, but I thought I could manage the rest on what I already had.

“That’s it, then,” Clara said. “Thanks for your time.”

Rome stood, straightening his tie. His gaze landed on me as I busied myself writing notes, and, fine, maybe avoiding his gaze.

“Jordan,” he said, voice sharp.

I looked up. “Yes?”

“Are you coming?”

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