Page 54 of Never Bargain with the Boss

Okay, maybe alittledrama. Just to keep him from going back to his stiff, uptight ways.

He chokes, even though he hasn’t so much as sipped his still steeping tea. “Goddammit,” he curses, side-eyeing me with a sharp frown. “Could you not? Grace might hear you and get the wrong idea,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Calm down,” I say with a smile as I bump his shoulder with my own, trying to bring him down to Defcon 5 instead of the panicked, near-nuclear level he’s operating at now. “Grace is upstairs on the phone, blissfully unaware of anything going on outside her bedroom door. I think the one you’re worried might get the wrong idea is…you.” I point a delicately pink-painted nail his way and smirk.

“Seriously, we should talk about this morning, seeing as we’re such adults and all.” He throws my own words back at me with a wry twist of his lips.

He makes it sound like we haven’t already addressed this. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a done deal, so I shake my head, sinking down deeper into the couch and pulling the blanket up to my chin. “Nope, no need. I get it. Sleep sex oops-a-daisy.” I cut my eyes to him. “Unless you’ve got some kink about fucking sleeping people?” I arch a brow, questioning whether that’s the case. “I’m not one to yuck someone’s yum,buuut…”

“What? No,” he sputters.

He’s totally spinning. I bet he’s never eventhoughtof a kink like that, and I can’t help but grin because I’ve been spinning since this morning, so it’s only fair he gets a little taste of his own medicine. I’d known instantly who was behind me, even in a half-woke state. The feel of Cameron’s arms around me, the lingering scent of scotch mixed with his soap, and the low groan that’d rumbled in his throat. Oh, I knew exactly who he was and what he was doing.

And I welcomed it.

Maybe in the light of day, with a clear head, I would’ve had second, and maybe even third thoughts, but in that moment, I’d let the way it felt carry me away into a bad decision. Because it feltamazing.

I did, however, think he’d known what he was doing and who it was with. That had been a smack to my ego, but I’ve decided to forgive him for that because honestly, the orgasm was worth it.

“Alright, then, we’re fine,” I tell him, shrugging dismissively. “We fell asleep, and a body against yours feels good, especially for two near-celibate people like us, and we got a little reckless.”

“I’m not celibate,” he argues. “Or reckless.”

I snort-laugh, which sounds completely unladylike, not that I’ve ever claimed to be one of those. “That’s what you’re disagreeing with? When we’ve already established that neither of us date, ergonear-celibate.” I emphasize the word pointedly.“And if you didn’t feel this morning was reckless, you wouldn’t be freaking out on me now.”

He clacks his mouth shut, his pearly whites snipping together hard enough to make me wonder if he’s chipped a tooth. But he manages to grit out, “I’m not freaking out.”

Nodding vehemently, I agree. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Not even a little bit.” I hold up my finger and thumb a skinny inch apart. He growls, and by my way of thinking, it’s his acknowledgement that he’s absolutely panicking, so I smile sweetly at him, wanting him to know I’m not a sore winner. “It’s okay, Cameron. We got carried away, we won’t let it happen again. No need to fire me, or freak out, or fantasize obsessively about doing it again.” I let my eyes drift off like I’m definitely daydreaming about a particularly long, hard something, before I blink and refocus on him with a smirk. “No big deal.”

I’m still poking at him. Testing him and finding those edges and limits where I push too far. The tic in his cheek is back, so I know I’m getting close. I take a sip of my tea to hide my satisfaction.

“Riley, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me, or like I took advantage of you and the situation?—”

I hold my hand up, silencing him. He’s reverting to some coldly professional, pseudo-business babble like I’m threatening to go to HR over what happened, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. Was what we almost did stupid? Yeah. But I’ve done stupider things before. And though he probably hasn’t, he doesn’t need to beat himself up over it. Doing dumb shit is fun sometimes, and that’s okay.

“The only thing that made me uncomfortable was my still-pulsing pussy hitting the hard floor,” I inform him primly. He swallows thickly, and I swear his eyes dip down as though he’s imagining what’s beneath this blanket. I nearly dance in my seat at the fun I’m having winding him up. He needs this in his life,a little mess and chaos, a bit of unexpected and impulsive. “And you sure as hell didn’t take advantage. I knew what I was doing, and I knew what you were doing. I’d say you knew what you were doing too– as in, it was good, not that you were aware, which we’ve already established you weren’t and is quite the hit on a girl’s ego—but if I gave you a compliment like that, your head would get even bigger and neither of us needs that.”

He blinks several times, like he’s replaying my long run-on sentence for clarity. “Are you saying…” He frowns hard, his brows furrowed low over darkening eyes. “Are you saying that you wanted… that?”

I sigh heavily, like I’m the one frustrated by him, but it’s a ploy. “I would never approach you. It’d be inappropriate.” He starts to speak, and I place my fingers over his lips, glaring hard, to shut him up so I can finish my thought. I’m 99.03% sure no one has ever dared to do that to him, given the way his eyes pop open wide in shock. But as I continue, he stays quiet, even when I slowly remove my hand, so I’m calling it a win. “And you would never approach me for the same reason. Our bodies have other ideas, and that’s understandable. You’re gorgeous, and smart, and a good dad. You’re sexy as hell, Cameron. And while I’m not everyone’s cup of tea…” I smile into my mug at the start of the analogy.

“You’re like a damn fairy,” he spits out, interrupting however I was going to describe myself, which definitely wasn’t as a mythical creature. Can’t say I’m mad at it, though. I might even kinda like the idea. “Flitting here and there, with your own musical accompaniment, leaving behind smiles and happiness. And all the while, flashing peeks of your belly and your tits that drive me wild. The only thing worse is your ass that I want to smack every time you walk away from me.” His voice has gotten rougher and rougher with every word, and by the end of his rant,he’s nearly growling and his frown has turned into a deep scowl like he’s angry at my very existence.

My breath hitches at his outpouring of words, each one a deeper, darker admission than the last, as fire ignites inside me. Not in my whole body, but rather one very centrally located part who thinks Cameron smacking my ass sounds like an absolutely stellar idea.

He doesn’t hate me, that’s for sure. There have been times, especially at first, when I wasn’t sure. I’d find him staring at me with his perpetual frown on his face and think he was about to escort me to the front door right then and there. But other times, more recently especially, he smiles and laughs at my and Grace’s silly antics, and he does seem to be a fan of my backside. Still, I didn’t think it’d gone beyond tolerance, or maybe mild appreciation of my amazingness. I certainly didn’t think a single one of those frowns or glares was because he wants me and is holding himself back.

“Wow,” I breathe, staring at him wide-eyed. “I had no idea.”

Looking furious, but I’d bet it’s mostly at himself, Cameron tries to get up, effectively running away from what he’s just said. I grab his arm, holding him in place. “Oh, no, you started this with all your ‘let’s talk like adults’ bullshit. No jumping off the roller coaster mid-ride after the first scary drop. We’re in this now.” Thankfully, he does remain sitting, though he’s gritting his teeth like he can barely stand to be this close to me.

“Riley.” I think he intends it to be a scold, but it comes out a plea. The heat in his eyes has electric tingles shooting through my whole body, and when his gaze drops to my lips, I even wonder if he might give in and kiss me. It’d be completely unlike him, but I want it anyway. Hell, maybe that’s why I want it? I stand by my usual desire for those around me to be predictable, but to be the woman who gets a man like Cameron to breakthrough his self-imposed prison would be a heady, addictive power.

I can even feel it in my mind, him taking control while simultaneously losing it. His lips, so often pressed into a hard line, going soft as they work over mine. That sexy rumbling deep in his throat this morning, I want more of that. I want his hands on my body—my face, my breasts, my clit, filling me. I want that big, thick dick I felt against my ass this morning—in my mouth, my hands, my pussy.

I can feel the kiss about to happen, like it’s buzzing in the cold air between us, so palpable that I lick my lips in preparation. I watch the war waging inside him and wonder what will win—his integrity or his lust. His head or his heart. Or more specifically, his mind or his dick.

I want to find limits and I’ve found Cameron’s. I could push him further, see what happens on the other side of his control, but I think we’d both pay a price for that. He’d beat himself up, and that’s not what I want. I shouldn’t get my way at the expense of his getting his. I know where the line is now, for Cameron and for me, so I smartly back away with the insight that I desperately needed.

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