Page 26 of Like a Boss

I’m breathless, needy, and pretty sure my kisses are resembling a fourteen-year-old, inexperienced schoolgirl with how much tongue I’m using, but I don’t care. I’m kissing the man who I’ve wanted to strangle all week. Even now, his bossiness is infuriating me, but I let it slide because I would rather die than stop kissing him.

As our kiss intensifies to pornographic proportions, he loosens his grip on my wrist and places my hand between us,boldly brushing over the enormous hard-on poking into me. He bites and sucks my bottom lip before pulling away.

“Let’s get a hotel room.”

His words douse my high and I pull away, stunned. “Excuse me?”

What’s wrong with his house? I know for a fact he only lives about twenty minutes from here. So why rent a room?

Awful, horrible thoughts crash into me, and the truth of what I’m doing hits home. I’m just another Fox Fan he thinks he can use and abuse whenever his dick calls.

Well, no more.

He senses my mood shift immediately. “Bluebird?—”

But it’s too late.

“Don’t Bluebird me.” I tighten my hold on his privates.

He wheezes while I rejoice in the sound. “You are a presumptuous asshole, and I need my head checked. I don’t even like you very much—actually, at all. Quite frankly, you disgust me. You’re bossy, moodier than a premenstrual teen and you have the worst manners—ever! I am not one of your whores, Mr. Fox.”

The moment I let his balls go, he sags in relief, but he looks angrier than a bear with a sore head.

“You want to pretend that you don’t know me. Well, that suits me just fine. Forget tonight, or any other night, for that matter, happened.” I’m so angry, I’m shaking.

He simply nods, the perfect poker face in place.

I was stupid to think he ever cared.

Feeling hot tears approaching, I push past him, disappointed when he doesn’t attempt to stop me. “Have a nice night, Mr. Fox. I’ll see you on Monday.”

I turn on my heel and leave behind something that’ll never be.

“Here, drink this,” Hannah coos, setting a peppermint tea in front of me. “It’ll help your stomach.” I appreciate the thought, but tea is not going to soothe my heartache.

I’m still so freaking mad. I have no idea how I’m going to be able to go in to work on Monday without unleashing my wrath on Mr. Fox’s smug face. I know this is my fault, but a small, stupid part of me romanticized that he actually liked me. But his actions last night proved otherwise.

The only person he cares about is himself and his dick! The thought gives me an idea.

“Pass over my laptop, Han.”

She nods and hands it to me as she sits down on the sofa. “What are you doing?”

“I need to find out who he is. Why he is the way that he is. I need to understand why he thinks he can treat me like dirt.”

“Um, because he’s a prick. Sometimes, there just isn’t an explanation. Just like Scott.”

This time, I don’t react as badly to his name being mentioned.

“I don’t buy it,” I stubbornly retort, powering up my computer. “I need the dirt on him. I need to know just who exactly Mr. Dylan Fox is.”

“He’s a womanizing jerk! I can’t believe he kissed you and was all like, ‘Bluebird, such sweetness.’” She lowers her voice in an attempt to sound like him, which is quite comical. “Then he’s all, ‘Hey bitch, let’s rent a room.’”

“He never called me bitch,” I amend with a smile.

She throws her arms up in irritation. “Whatever! He’s a walking contradiction.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh, perusing through the minimal information I can find on him.

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