Page 43 of Arrogant Boss

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he says. “He wants me to be a woman-hating man, but I saw the way he beat her until she was black and blue, and they would go to events and act like he’s the perfect husband.

“I don’t date a lot because I don’t want to end up in an abusive relationship. I don’t want what my parents have. And plus, I’m a workaholic, so I don’t have time for a relationship. I tried it with my last girlfriend. She complained about me working too much, but I’m glad things didn’t work out between us because she was stealing money from me to do cocaine.”

“You should open up more often. It makes you sexy.” I slide my finger through his silk hair. He became ten times hotter opening up to me. For once, he’s vulnerable with me. This beautiful man is broken on the inside.

He cocks his eyebrows. “I’m already sexy.”

“That’s the Atlas I know.”

“Let’s go, this award ceremony is a bore.” He leans down and nips the tip of my earlobe.

“I want to take you back to my place and fuck you so hard, I don’t get the taste of your pussy off my tongue.”

“What’s stopping you?” I smirk.

The minute we climb into the limo, Atlas tells Thomas to go back to my condo. His mouth slams against mine, kissing me deeply, then he removes his mouth and hikes up my gown above my knees. When he yanks down my panties, the cool breeze tickles my core, my breasts feelings achy and heavy.

Worry etches inside of me. I peer up at Thomas, and he keeps his eyes glued to the road.

“What if he sees us?”

Atlas stares at my core with a glint in his eyes, licking his lips.

“I pay him to drive, not to look at shit that doesn’t belong to him,” he snaps.

He buries his face between my legs and his finger slides inside of me as his mouth latches onto my clit. I place my hand on the back of his neck, wrapping my legs around his shoulders. I bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning. God, I miss his tongue on my core, and I miss him being inside of me. We shouldn’t be doing this, but tonight I want to enjoy the moment. The night has been so magical, and I don’t want it to end. His tongue twirls around my clit, like a piece of candy, and I moan his name as my heart picks up speed and my muscles tense.

“Your tongue feels so good,” I murmur.

Emotions swim inside of me. Excitement. Fear. Admiration. Sadness. My mind goes to the morning we had sex. How he was distant, and the way he looked at me as if he didn’t want me anymore still burns in my chest. I don’t want my feelings hurt again, to risk him checking out again like he did before. I don’t want to feel like shit, like I don’t matter afterward.

My core contracts and my toes curl as waves of my orgasm course through my body. Sleepiness overtakes me. Once I come down from my high, realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I shouldn’t have allowed him to touch me. This was a mistake.

Atlas sits up and his lips glisten with my cum. The car stops in front of my building, and I hop out, not sparing him a glance.

“Lake.” Atlas’s tone is husky.

I feel bad for leading him on. Finally, I work up the courage to face him. Tears spill from my eyes, and I don’t know why I am crying.

“I’ll see you Monday morning. Please don’t follow me,” I say before rushing into my building.

The next morning, I’m late seeing Poppy. We’re supposed to spend the day together before we go to her bachelorette party tonight. I haven’t told her anything about Atlas, and I need advice. Last night, I spent all night thinking about how I left him, and the sad look in his eyes. He called me a few times and sent me a few messages, but I chose to ignore him.

We meet for breakfast, and I sit across from her, placing my purse next to me. The air is humid for July, but thankfully we’re on Manhattan Beach. The wind blows, tickling my skin.

A grin stretches across her face. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. What happened between you and Atlas? Did you two finally do the deed?”

I smile, grab my menu, scan it, then set it down. The waitress, dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, writes our order down before she leaves.

“You’re blushing. You did, I knew it.” She grabs her Michael Kors purse, grabs a folded piece of paper, and slides it to me. My eyes light up in horror as I pick up the crinkle paper. A picture of me and Atlas on the front cover. He’s looking down at me, but I’m staring at the camera. I look so pretty with my hair and makeup done, like the old me before the accident. The person who was outgoing and the life of the party. Sometimes, I miss the old me, the carefree me. I flip through the tabloid and read.

This is the first time Atlas Conrad has been spotted with a beautiful woman who also happens to be the daughter of Ambrose Ortiz, the famous photographer. Lake Ortiz is his current executive assistant, and good friend. Will they be a couple? Only time will tell.

I suspect Atlas had his publicist send the statement to the tabloid, so they won’t think we’re dating, and he did it to protect my image. Now, I feel bad for leaving him the way I did without any explanation.

“You see the way he looks at you?” Her eyes are filled with awe. “He has it bad for you.”

“No. I don’t think so. He’s into what I have between my legs.”

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