Page 31 of Like a Boss

The more he sucks and strokes me, the wetter and needier I become; I couldn’t mask my moans, even if I tried. When he begins circling two fingers over my clit and then dipping low, a tight knot begins to form in my belly. I recognize this feeling, and I want to embrace it with both hands. So I do.

Wedging my palm between us, I press my fingers over his, begging him to give me what I want. He groans around my breast, his warm breath triggering my knot to grow and grow. We begin an in sync rhythm, hurriedly rubbing overmy quivering center, speeding up my impending orgasm only elicited by him.

When he bites my nipple and drums his finger over my clit, I can no longer hold on, and I cry out my release so loudly, I’m almost certain the entire floor can hear me coming. But regardless, I couldn’t stop my explosion even if I tried.

It feels like minutes that tiny tremors rock my body, and I don’t fail to notice the entire time, Tiger holds me close, offering my shaky legs the support I need. When I finally come down from my orgasmic bliss, my eyes pop open and I appreciate the sight of Tiger with his guard down.

“That was truly beautiful.” He lifts the hand which was seconds ago between my legs and brushes a loose strand of hair off my brow. He smiles, a genuine smile, and the sight has me weak in the knees. “Are you okay?” he asks when I continue staring at him, speechless.

I nod, afraid of what my voice will sound like.

Giving my lips a brief kiss, he gently covers my exposed breast and draws my shirt closed. Is that it? We’re not going to make use of that sturdy timber table?

“Don’t look so disappointed. That was hot for me too.”

But he’s misread my regret. I’m grateful for the attention to detail, but right now, I just feel used.

I dress with uneven fingers, wondering what happens next.

Mr. Fox answers for me. “I won’t be in for the rest of the afternoon. I have a few matters to attend to. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Standing, speechless, I watch as he rearranges himself and straightens his tie. So that’s it? He gives me a mind-blowing orgasm and expects me to return to work? Is he really going to disregard what happened between us yet again?

It appears so. “Good day, Ms. Young.”

But I don’t think so.

“Don’t good day me,” I spit, my anger shining. “You don’t get to do that and then expect things to go back to normal, whatever the hell normal is with you!”

Mr. Fox smirks, which just infuriates me further.

I shove him in the chest and wave my invisible pom-poms when he bumps into the chair, taken off guard. “No, I am done being treated like this by men. My last boyfriend?—”

However, I don’t get to finish my sentence because Mr. Fox grips my throat and walks me toward the wall. He presses me against it, eyes on fire. “Don’t ever mention him to me.Ever,” he warns, his hot breath fanning my cheeks.

Is he… jealous?

“Understood?”

His hand is still around my throat, so I nod.

He opens his mouth as if wanting to say something but changes his mind at the last minute. He lets me go and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I don’t know what just happened, but I intend to find out.

I’m feeling used, abused, and angry.

But this is no one’s fault, not even Mr. Fox’s fault. It’s all mine. No one forced my hand; I voluntarily gave it up when I shoved it between my thighs.

What is the matter with me? I know Mr. Fox is trouble, but yet, I keep coming back for more. Well, no more. Today’s indiscretion is the last of its kind, and this time, I mean it. No more falling victim to those eyes and our one-way attraction. I’m better than that.

I was hoping, by some miracle, Mr. Fox would come to me, professing his sincerest apologies for once again disregarding our actions, but he didn’t. He instead pretended like nothing happened and treated me like a complete stranger.

I don’t understand how he can switch his feeling on and off so quickly. But then I remember he doesn’t have any.

He’s left early—again, which has me wondering where he’s going. It’s just me and this empty office, which is why I’m ransacking Mr. Fox’s desk, intent on finding… something. There has to be a reason why he is such an unfeeling asshole.

His office looks like a hurricane has torn through it and I suppose, in some ways, it has. I have searched through his filing cabinet and drawers, but have found nothing. But that doesn’t deter me. I know he’s hiding something.

---