Page 4 of Like a Boss

But it’s not every day a girl like me gets propositioned on her way to the bathroom by a man who could have any woman he wanted.

I’ve always considered myself cute rather than beautiful. I’ve always been the pretty brunette with too many freckles on her nose, while Hannah was the leggy blonde beauty everyone wanted to screw. And I’m okay with that. Scott loved me for who I was. Well, I thought he did because I now know that Scott was a fucking liar.

Anger replaces my heartache, and before I know it, I’m in the elevator once again, riding it up to the fifteenth floor and storming down the hallway. “You arenota coward,” I repeat for the final time before knocking on the door of room 1535.

Who was I kidding? I amsucha coward. I was insane to think I could actually go through with this because the pounding of my heart and the shortness of breath reveals I’m moments away from having a heart attack.

But it’s too late. Just as my common sense kicks in, the door opens, and before me stands my handsome stranger.

I gulp.

He smirks.

I gulp once again.

“Hello again.” His voice is as smooth as velvet, his composure untroubled and calm as he leans against the doorjamb.

I, on the other hand, can feel the perspiration gathering on my brow.

This was a mistake, but as he steps aside, indicating I’m to enter, my feet act before my brain can protest and I’m trapped in the lion’s, or should I say, tiger’s den. I take a quick look around and can’t deny the room is really beautiful and lavish. I have no doubt that money isn’t an issue for my tiger.

When I hear the door close, I nervously spin around to see my stranger braced up against the wood grain, watching me with those intense eyes. Under his heated gaze, I feel naked and utterly exposed. I quickly check to ensure there are no wardrobe malfunctions.

When I’m in the clear, I meet his stare once again but am shocked to see a small grin tug at his full lips. I don’t know why it shocks me, but my tiger appears like someone who doesn’t let his guard down often.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks, pushing off the door, walking brashly toward me.

I slowly back away, only stopping when my calves hit the edge of a glass coffee table. “Um, sure. Thanks.”

He nods, that damn cocky smile still plastered to his glorious face as he makes his way over to the refrigerator.

I watch with interest as he reaches for two wine glasses, pouring us a splash of red. I wish I knew what he was thinking because at the moment, he’s keeping his cards close to his chest. Oh, and what a chest it is.

I thought I was here to be ‘fucked senseless,’ but maybe he was joking. Maybe he’s actually a creepy pervert who lured me up here with the promise of sex, but instead, he’s going to cutme up into itty bitty pieces and mail my remains to my mom and dad.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I confess, hating how my rationality decides to kick innow, becausenowis too late.

“Why not?” he coolly questions, both wineglasses in hand as he makes his way toward me. I haven’t moved an inch.

“Because, I, er…” I fumble over my words because I don’t even know what to say. Are you a serial killer, seems a little wrong.

“Because why?” he presses, handing me my wine.

I reach for the glass, ensuring our fingers don’t touch. “Because I don’t usually do this. Like ever. This isn’t me.” When he remains quiet, studying me closely, I add, “I’m sorry if I misled you downstairs.”

He cocks his head to the side, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. He doesn’t say anything, however, he simply watches me like prey.

His intensity would usually scare or intimate me, but coming from him, in a weird, unexplained way, it turns me on. I’ve never had a man look at me this way, and I dare say after tonight, I’ll never experience it thereafter.

“You didn’t mislead me. I know what your body wants… even if you don’t.” He finally speaks, although I think I preferred him mute.

I can’t deny he’s right. I can feel an unexpected dampness pooling in my underwear, a feeling I haven’t experienced in a very long time. But can I really do this? Can I have a one-night stand with a complete and utter stranger who is extremely cocky and seems like a self-assured asshole?

With his gaze still firmly affixed to me, he runs a hand through his dark brown hair, the longer layers on top sliding through his fingers effortlessly. I dig my fingernails into my palm to stop myself from reaching out and touching that tousledmess myself. Even though he is perfectly refined and reeks of class, his bed hair and three-day growth show me otherwise. Underneath this perfect getup, I sense a bad boy just waiting to emerge when the time and situation is just right.

Like right now.

He slowly loosens the black tie from around his thick neck, his eyes never wavering from mine when he unknots it. He unfastens the top button of his crisp white shirt, it pops open, adding to his rebellious look.

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