Page 7 of Royal Bosshole

I went behind the counter to grab myself an old scone, and when she leaned over the counter, I tore off a corner and popped it into my mouth.

“So, you know that guy who was in here yesterday?”

“Hot guy with the accent? Yeah, everyone knows. All the women were turning their heads.”

Geez, I wonder if they all had sex dreams about him too.

I chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, well, he’s the VP of Coffee on the Go, and he’s offering me a job.”

“A job?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Not threatening to take over your business? To crush you into the ground?”

“No, not exactly. But I’m thinking about taking it. It’s good money, and I can maybe learn a few things to help our business. I was hoping you could take over things here for a while. You work full-time here anyway.”

“True.” She looked around the place, scrutinizing it. “I think that should be all right. Yesterday’s business was an anomaly. I doubt every day’ll be that busy. And I’ve got the other guys to help too.”

I sighed with relief. “Thanks so much, Jen. I know I ask a lot of you, but if I get more money, that means more money for you, too!”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You’re right. A raise will be imminent, I hope.”

“Of course! First thing on the list.” I crossed my heart, making her laugh.

“Good. When’s he—”

We both turned at the sound of the door opening, and I swore that we both let out a feminine sigh of delight at the same time. There was a male specimen of beauty before us, and I was not one to let such an occurrence go to waste.

Even hotter naked, his skin slipping over mine as he—

When he got closer, he lifted a brow at the both of us, and I realized we’d been staring. Clearing my throat, I said, “Hey, Mr. Perry. This is Jen. My manager.”

“Hi,” she said prettily, and he shook her hand.

“Hi Jen. Ms. Jones, are you ready to talk?”

“Yeah, perfect timing. Coffee?” I asked, nodding to the machines.

“A pumpkin-spiced latte, I think is the thing to order here,” he said, his expression placid.

“Yeah, sure, coming right up.”

“I’ll do it,” Jen said, walking to the machines, and I grabbed my scone and led him to a table.

My heart was pattering away, very,veryattuned to his presence, and I tried not to think about him naked as I watched his fitted suit cling to his muscles when he sat.

His dick probably isn’t that big in real life, anyway.

“So,” he said, “Do you want me?”

I froze and blinked at him. “Excuse me?” I asked, my throat having gone dry.

He frowned. “I said, ‘Do you want in?’”

“Oh.” I blushed, wishing I had a fan so that I could fan my beet-red face.

God, was the fact that I had a sex dream about him evident on my face?

“Yes, Mr. Perry. I want in.”

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