Page 15 of Royal Bosshole

“How’d you get into your business?” he asked, pausing before he got any closer.

My heart was thundering against the wall of my chest. “My grandmother left it to me when she passed. I grew up working there as a kid, and so I was happy to continue the legacy.”

His hand reached up to rub at the stubble at his jaw, and my throat went dry again.

Do not focus on the chiseled jawline.

“How familial of you,” he said, sounding almost impressed. “You like it?”

“Yeah, I love it,” I said honestly. “I’m not sure I know how to do much else. Coffee has become my life.”

I stopped at that, surprised at my own words. I wanted singing to be my life, but there were just too many things in the way. Crippling stage fright being one of them.

“I guess mine too,” he said in a softer tone, this time stepping a bit closer.

What was happening? He was close enough that I had to tilt my head up a bit to look at him. His cologne filled my nose, and I tried to keep from closing my eyes to soak in bliss. Was this the sex dream again? Had I actually gone home, fallen asleep and found myself here?

“We agree on that, I suppose,” I said, my voice sounding stupidly breathy.

My fists clenched at my sides. I was a strong, confident woman who’d met plenty of sexy men in her lifetime. I could endure this for another few moments.

Maybe.

“What can I do for you?” I asked. “Or did you just want to ask me some random questions?”

Good. Keep the sarcastic tone in your voice. That’ll push him away.

But instead, he smirked and leaned in close to my ear.

“It was really more of what I could do for you,” he said in a low, rumbling tone.

My legs turned to jelly, and for fear of falling over in his office, I reached my hands up to his shirt, grasping fistfuls of it to hold me steady. I held my head back and away from him, and when he looked down into my eyes again, I did the most sensible thing a girl in my situation would do. I kissed him.

I could feel his surprise under my mouth, but before I could pull away, his arms wrapped around me, and in one split second, my mouth was open, and his tongue was sliding inside.

God, yes.

The man tasted even better than he smelled. I stroked my tongue along his, all rational thought having fled my mind the moment he’d whispered in my ear. My hands traveled up the back of his neck, and my fingers curled into his hair. I had never been kissed like this. His mouth was powerful and gentle at the same time, and it was like he was savoring every movement of my lips, every slide of my tongue.

Not wanting to ignore the moment of bold impulses, I gripped onto his bottom lip with my teeth and gently pulled.

“Jesus,” he said, his mouth moving down my jawline to my neck while his hands reached down to my ass.

He ground his hips against me, pressing me into him, and I felt him.

Fuck, he might really be as big as the dream.

That image made a little wetness gush out from between my thighs. Who was this man? He had power in his hands and his lips and his tongue. His mouth traveled down my neck, licking, and nipping along the way, and I couldn’t help but let out a moan. It had been so long since I had been touched like this. God, had I ever been? He stepped back from me and grasped gently at my wrist. He spun us so that my back was to the desk.

“Turn around,” he said huskily.

Looking at the heat in his eyes, I did what he said, and he kept hold of my wrist as he helped me turn. I pressed my hands into the wood of the desk, my heart moving a hundred miles a minute. Gently, he pressed down on my back, and I went forward.

“What are you—?” I asked.

“I want to taste you. And you are going to let me,” he said in that sexy, low, gravelly voice of need and possession. His hands gripped my waist and slid down to squeeze my ass. “Aren’t you?”

I nearly let out a laugh. Couldn’t he tell that my whole body was thrumming for him to do just that?

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