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I still haven’t figured out how to crack the scowl permanently etched on my boss’s face. So I do the next best thing—irritate him. Daily.
It’s got a rainbow-and-sparkles theme, entirely over-the-top and contradicting the professional atmosphere of the office. He’s going to hate it. Perfect.
Once he hit me with that disapproving scowl, I was a goner. Naughty-secretary fantasies slammed me one after the other once I started working with him until my library was full of grumpy-boss-themed office-romance books that my smut-addled brain devoured.
I live in the fictional world as much as the real world.
This attraction is not going to be satisfied until he locks me in his office, demands I get on my knees, shut the fuck up, and take that dick like a good girl.1
A steamy scene I gushed over involving an acronym, scuffed knees, and a particular boss I wish would take a hint. Don’t blush.
If Mr. Carlson found out about all the posts I made comparing him to my favorite book boyfriends, I might die of embarrassment before I get on the plane.
She scrolls through a few, her mouth dropping open. “You dirty girl.”
“Oh, believe me, you aren’t the first one to fantasize about taming the beast.”
The tight dresses and accidental pencils dropped to the floor over the last three months, all for nothing.
I should have read monster romances. At least I would have accepted that every steamy scene would stay as fantasy.
Instead, I wasted my time picturing myself as the naughty secretary to a boss I n...
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The elevator door catches our attention. I try to stop the desire knotting my insides, but after three months of conditioning, I’m like Pa...
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Butterflies escape my belly, scattering my nerves and wrecking my self-control. No man should have this much subliminal control over my body.
How is any woman supposed to resist a gooey center wrapped up in a grumpy shell?
I like his praise—even if it’s only subtle body movements.
“You want me to do something self-indulgent?” His question makes my smut-addled brain combust. He couldn’t mean it how I’ve interpreted it—no-fraternization policy, remember?
I think about how indulgent I was last night while reading one-handedly.
“I like to read and review books.” I press my lips tight together. Why did I say that? “What genre?” The ones with naughty covers and filthy content. “A bit of everything.”
“Paige.” The way he says my name, a little low and drawn out like I’m in trouble, does very naugh...
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“Should I expect the usual disobedience?”
He opens the folder and looks at the top page, absent of a sticky note. I’m too far away to know for sure, but he seems… disappointed. He flips each page until he finds it, then shakes his head.
The throb starts heavy in my balls and intensifies as it pulses up my shaft, thickening my cock and threatening to make a mess behind my zipper. All over a fucking sticky note.
I stare at my open desk drawer and the collection I can’t throw away because of a masochistic fetish my assistant has induced.
I do not love that tiny heart tattooed on her inner left ankle. It’s distracting, especially when she wears the plum dress, because it highlights the purple tones in the delicate inked lines and makes me want to look at it up close, preferably when her legs are over my shoulders.
Alex, my business partner and asshole best friend, walks through my office door, spies my collection of dick-hardening Paige reminders, and smirks.
Thank fuck I have the no-fraternization policy, or I would have spent the last three months balls deep inside of my assistant instead of focused on my clients.
“It’s fun seeing you this worked up over a woman again.”
“So, what you are suggesting is that to dissuade you from pushing for the merger, all I need to do is fuck Paige on my desk?”
I need to focus on this, not ankle tattoos and sticky notes.
wouldn’t be able to stop until I’m unloading inside of her—bare. Because I already know I want no barrier between us when we fuck. I want to feel her clench and pulse as I slide inch by inch inside her. When? Fuck, no.
“I’m not some horny, unrestrained teenager. It’s a work event, not a date.”
Is she reading? My cock hardens thinking about her self-indulgent comment earlier.
Such a fucking brat.
Curiosity gets the best of me. I open a new web browser and search for her name and book reviews.
She must use a pseudonym, so I do what any non-stalker boss would do—use her profile picture from the firm's website and search her image.
I click on her profile, and hundreds of posts show up, but one in particular catches my attention—office-romance trope. What the fuck is that?
I click on the most recent upload. It’s a particularly descriptive book review about an employer and his assistant and an acronym I’ve never seen before.
“What does STFUATTDLA...
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Heat licks up my neck, and I break out in a sweat. Paige likes books where the love interest tells the protagonist to shut the fuck up and take that dick like a good girl? Is that what Paige wants in real life?
I guess I know what self-indulgent activity I’ll be partaking in today.
“He is going to miss you.” “My work ethic, not me.”
He’s watching the screen, his tie tossed over his shoulder, one hand clamped around the edge of the counter, the other… Oh…
I’m watching the man who inspired all of my orgasms since I met him jerk off to a video of… “Is that me?” I slap a hand over my mouth. Oh shit.
There’s nothing overly provocative about the video he’s watching. I’m wearing my hair up in a messy bun and an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder. But I am fawning over an explicit blow-job scene between a grumpy boss and his assistant in one of my favorite smutty books.
His thumb moves, stealing my attention as it strokes along the ridge of his cock head.
Cocking one eyebrow, Mr. Carlson drags his underwear up, his movement almost leisurely as he covers his length,
I shut my mouth and walk toward him, flushed, vibrating, and very sticky between my thighs.
Is this really happening? Am I about to get my grumpy-boss fantasy? How hard would the tiles feel against my knees?
He signs each document, gripping the pen with the same fingers that had been closed around his length minutes earlier.
