The Bonus

by T.L. Swan

My name is Grace Porter, and I am the personal assistant to Gabriel Ferrara, CEO of Ferrara Media in New York. And it’s the perfect job, great pay, beautiful office, everything I ever dreamed of, if not for one small detail. I am utterly and hopelessly in love with my boss.

Tanned muscles, broad back and dominance for miles, the lethal trifecta.

How could any female work in these conditions and not be completely besotted with him? And then he opens his mouth…and I remember why. “Did you sleep at all last night? You look like shit.” “Thanks,” I mutter as I refocus on his day. “I didn’t sleep much either, actually, can you remind me later to send flowers.” I bite the side of my cheek. Fucker.

And we all say, “oof,“ together… Harsh

“Why do you have a meeting with Roger?” “I’m letting him go.” He pulls up his navy suit pants and zips up. “What?” He shrugs. “He’s not performing.” “You can’t fire Roger; he’s going through a lot right now. His wife left him.” “Probably wasn’t performing in bed either,” he mutters dryly as he puts his gold cuff links on. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Ice cooold lololol

“Gracie,” he calls and I turn back to him. “Yes.” “Don’t wear that perfume again.” I frown in confusion. “I don’t like it.” I bite my lip to hold my tongue and make my way out of his office. I take a seat at my desk, deflated. He doesn’t like my perfume. Well, fuck him! I do, asshole, and I’m going to slather it all over myself tomorrow until he throws up. I might even spray it in his eyes for added effect.

😆😂😆😝🤭🤡☠️✨‼️

I never realized how much I loved nature until I hardly saw any.

“I will one day, when I buy a house in the suburbs.” I smile. “One day?” He frowns. “When I get my act together.” Code for when I get over him. “You should do it now,” the guy says. I shrug. “What are you waiting for, life is now. Decide what you want and take it.”

“I wish.” “Don’t wish for it. Do it. If you want a house in the suburbs, save and buy one. You never regret the things that you do, only the things that you didn’t.” He throws the ball and Dusty takes off after it. “Catch you later.” “Bye.” I frown after him as he runs off. You never regret the things that you do, only the things that you didn’t. Hmm…

“Good morning, my Gracie.” He smiles. My eyes drop to his big red lips, and I want to stab my eyes out with my pencil. Anything to stop me seeing this perfection. “Good morning, Gabriel,” I reply. “Last time I looked, I was not your Gracie.” He lets out a deep chuckle. “You will always be my Gracie.”

“Will you just get dressed.” He holds his hands out as if surrendering. “You don’t like me in a towel?” “No. I don’t, actually,” I lie. I love you in a towel. “It’s off-putting having to watch you get dressed every day, and frankly, very annoying. I don’t make you watch me get dressed.” “Ahh…” He laughs. “Wouldn’t that be something, Gracie Porter getting dressed in my office.”

As much as I love Gabriel Ferrara, I can’t do this to myself anymore. I’m getting older, my biological clock is ticking, and I won’t even date anyone because I’m so blinded by my fatal attraction to my boss. Nobody stands a chance while I work with him.

“I’ll only ever buy a diamond for someone I love.” “You should probably buy yourself a few, then,” I mutter, deadpan. He smirks as he buttons up his shirt. “I am the diamond.” No shit, Sherlock. A diamond python. Looks pretty…but if left unattended, will suffocate you to death.

on his hips, and his eyes are crazy. “Fine, twenty percent pay raise, that’s it,” he snaps. I stay silent. He continues to pace. “Hardball, hey…twenty five percent and that’s it.” I begin to type as I act uninterested. “No thanks.” “What do you mean, no thanks?” he barks. “It’s not about the money.” “Everything is about money,” he fires back. I roll my eyes and go back to my computer. “Fifty percent pay raise and that’s totally fucking it.” I keep typing. “No.” “Double your wage and do not talk to me again. This is daylight robbery,” he screams. “You are trying to fuck me up the ass, and I won’t have it.”

This has me absolutely rolling 10/10

“Fine, don’t go to Tiffany’s today, it doesn’t matter. I won’t get her the gift.” Huh? I look up from my computer. Does he know? “Why would you say that?” “That’s it, isn’t it?” he says. “We are not having this conversation, Gabriel,” I snap. “Yes. We. Fucking. Are.”

“Where’s that?” “Maine.” “Why the fuck would you buy a house in Maine?” He screws up his face in horror. “Because…it’s time.” “For what?” he bellows. “To turn fucking Amish?”

“You’re leaving me?” he whispers. “I have to.” His eyes search mine. “I’m sorry.” His jaw clenches, and then without another word he marches back into his office and slams the door, it echoes as the walls shake. Hot tears burn my eyes. You were supposed to beg me to stay.

No. This is what he wants. If I give up on my dream now, I’m only cheating myself. No pain, no gain.

“Nobody has a gun to your head to look.” He angrily tips the coffee into his cup. “I think you like what you see, that’s what I think.” “Oh…you think that!” I yell, horrified that he’s onto me. “I think you’re…hideous.” “Hideous?” he screams back, infuriated. “You’re hideous.” Something about my boss standing there in his underpants, yelling that I’m hideous, tickles my fancy and I burst out laughing. “Nothing is funny about this,” he fumes. “Look away while I dress.” “Oh please, I’ve seen it all now,” I scoff. “Stop acting frigid, we both know you’re not.” I sit down and open his computer. “Apparently I’m too hideous to look at,” he mutters as he disappears into his closet. I smirk as I open his calendar.

He smiles as I take a glass of champagne. “Thank you.” I smile. I wonder could I take two? No, don’t be an animal.

He’s wearing a dark gray suit, white shirt, Santa hat and my heart on the bottom of his shoe.

Ouch… That smarts. I’m grateful for my trusty vibrator right now. Well done, Bob.

😂☠️🤡🤡🤡🤡‼️‼️‼️‼️

I can’t speak, I can’t breathe, and hell…I can’t even see.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for seven years.” He smiles against my lips. “And now that you have?” I whisper. “I’m glad I didn’t, we would never have gotten any work done.” He grabs my sex and tugs it. “Having this perfect pussy in my office would have been a major distraction.” He turns and picks up my dress. I giggle, feeling relieved. Perfect pussy.

It’s a robe with the letter G embroidered on it. The G is code for Grace so I can always be with him… But I know he will think it’s for Gabriel because it’s all about him.

My mind is running at a million miles per minute, I’m shocked. Shockder than shocked, and shockder isn’t even a word.

I go back to my daydream, also known as the murder plot. You know what…fuck him.

Do you want me to walk you out? No. I want your dick to fall off, that’s what I want, asshole. How dare he have a good dick! I’m infuriated. Rich, handsome, endowed…selfish, motherfucking fuckface.

My angry heartbeat is hammering in my chest, and I rip my hand from his. “Do not touch me, Gabriel. I swear to god, I’m about to lose my living shit with you.” He smirks, clearly amused. “Anger is an aphrodisiac to me, Grace. I wouldn’t push your luck; my control is hanging by a thread as it is.”

“Gracie.” He takes me into his arms and drops his lips to my neck. “I am sorry for acting like myself at the office.” He bites me, and goose bumps scatter up my arms. “I should have acted like someone else.” He teases me as he bites me again. “Because the very least you deserve is for me to act like I want the entire office to know my business.”

To the right, there’s a sunken room with a black circular leather couch around a pole. Huh? “What’s the pole for?” I ask. “Strippers,” he says casually as he takes a sip of the drink he’s just poured. I stare at him as my brain misfires, what do you even say to that? “You have strippers to your house?” I gasp. “Of course I do. I certainly don’t want to go to their houses,” he replies casually as he passes me a heavy crystal glass. What the… I’m shocked, shocked to my core. He has a fucking stripper pole in his bar room.

😂😂😂😂 I am absolutely cracked

He sits down beside me; his eyes linger on my lips as he takes a slow sip of his drink. He’s imagining something, god knows what, but it’s perverted, I know.

I shrug, embarrassed that I’m not the bad girl I want to be, that my heart is already broken after one cheap fuck on his desk.

I can forgive him for not loving me. What I can’t forgive is myself, for ever believing that he could.

This wedding would be Gracie’s worst nightmare. Mine too.

Gabriel arrives on Thursday and we’re telling the kids. Nerves swirl in my stomach at just the thought. “What are you doing?” he asks. I glance up from my daydream. “I beg your pardon?” “What are you doing this weekend?” “I have an old friend visiting.” “Oh great. I’d love to meet them.” Gabriel would eat you alive and pick his teeth with your bones. “Sure.” I fake a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

“I don’t know what kind of pizza this is, but good god, it’s bad.” He curls his lip and drops it back onto his plate. Poor bastard can’t even get a decent pizza in this place. I think of all the things I’ve served him up to eat over the last few weeks and I can’t hide my smile. “What’s so funny?” he asks dryly. “You are a food snob.” “I…” his eyebrows flick up as he searches for a comeback, “…openly admit that I prefer edible food.” I get the giggles.

“I’m not after sex, I’m after a connection.” His eyes search mine. “I want to feel your heartbeat from the inside, I want to show you mine.” Oh… He stands, bringing us millimeters apart, and he takes my face in his hands. I stare up at him as my heart completely stops. “Put me out of my misery.” He bends and his lips softly brush against mine. “Tell me there’s a chance for us.”

I’m saaaaaadddddd

Gabriel Ferrara’s a fuckface…who I hate. I go back to the kitchen to continue making my brownies. “They’re carrying something big in, Mom,” Dominic calls. I hope it’s a coffin, he’s going to need it.

“Mind if I come through your back door?” Gabriel’s deep voice purrs. I glance up to see him standing in the doorway, he’s giving me the look, and I know exactly which back door he’s talking about. “You will never be coming in my back door,” I mutter dryly. “Famous last words.” He peers into the oven to see what I’m cooking. “Listen, don’t talk to me,” I whisper as I look around to see if I can talk without anyone hearing. “You are in the doghouse.” “Excellent.” “How is that excellent?” “Doggy style is when I’m at my best.” What?

His eyes well with tears as he stares at me across the table. This is one of those moments where the planets align and you know that all the decisions and hard work that you put in years ago have paid off.

“Why is the mattress on the floor?” “Because you’re about to fucking get it.” He pushes me down onto it. “You knew this was going to happen?” I frown up at him. “Of course I did. Your pheromones have been sucking my cock all day.”

“So…” “So what?” “How was it?” “It was porn sex.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Stupidly good.”

His head drops. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Don’t hate me…” His head rises as if angered. “Touché.” I screw up my face in tears and he walks through the back door without looking back. The door clicks shut with a sharp snap. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to the empty room. “But you have no one to blame but yourself.”

THIS. IS. THE. WORST.

“That’s your right hand, so that direction is right.” “Oh yes.” He nods. “I’m left-handed,” Lucia announces. “You are?” I frown. “Me too,” Dominic replies. “You take after me.” I smile proudly. “I’m left-handed.” Their eyes both widen. “You are?” “Whoa…” Lucia whispers in astonishment. “We’re left-handed like our dad.” And just like that, my day is better.

“Pour the olive oil into the pan and sauté the onions until they become fragrant.” “How the hell does an onion turn into fragrance?” I frown. “What the fuck is the fragrance, onion juice?”

“When you wake up, I’m going to kill you for being so clumsy,” I whisper. “You didn’t have to be all dramatic and throw yourself down the stairs to get out of an argument.” I keep stroking her hair. “We both know you would have won, anyway.”

Her silhouette blurs. “Please wake up.”

“How you going to cut up that horse meat loaf with one hand?” I stare down at the meat loaf. “Horse?” “It’s dubious for certain.” He leans over me and cuts up my food. “How you going to take the lid off your water?” He unscrews the bottle of water and pours it into the glass.

I twist my lips to hide my smile and I take a big bite of my meat loaf. “Appaloosa or stallion?” he asks.

My parents and Gabriel all listen intently, it’s visiting hours at the zoo.