On His Terms

○×21: weird & alien bosses○×

<Why chase you when I'm the catch?>

|Jadesola|

RED HOT fire scorched me, zings of pleasure spearing down my arm as warmth radiated through my body, certain places coming to life at that single touch of his.

Bloody hell.

I tipped my head down, the veins prominent on his hand, muscular and powerful. The things those tapered fingers of his could do. The erotic potential of them. Sliding. In. And. Out.

No. No. No.

Abruptly, I darted away, yanking my wrist out of his snug hold.

The tip of his tongue snaked out to lick his lower lip, a knowing smile softening his roguish features.

"Ever heard of consent?" I spat, cradling my wrist, nursing it gently, to snuff out the fire that had razed me whole. The hungry fire that threatened to consume me. Enticing me to lust after my boss.

He ignored my statement, saying, voice hoarse as he honed a sultry gaze at my chest, "You're wearing a bra at night." His disappointed tone struck an annoyed chord in me.

Thanks to hormones, my breasts were sore, contained in the confines of a bra, my nipples tender and chapped. Normally, I would have forgone one but not today. There was no way I was coming to meet him without wearing one. No telling what pleasurable but risky consequences that would befall me.

"What?! Didn't expect me to wear one?" I snapped, crossing an arm over my chest, enraged because the moment he'd made that statement, my nipples turned hard, chafing against the silky material of the bra.

"In a way, yes." He arched his head, lips curved in a tiny smirk, an arm hung over the semi-closed door, that cursed towel slithering down. "You hardly put on underwear."

I let the anger from before trickle through my veins. Anything to shield me from the ruthless charm he possessed. "I'm here to work sir, not talk about my dressing style."

With a deft twist of my body, I changed position and trudged into the room. Mad—I didn't know if it was because I was on my period or the fact I couldn't jump my boss's bones—I paid no heed to the room's decor, only heading towards a sofa to sit.

Kian eventually shut the door, directing a smug look at me. "Wait here. I have to change into clothes that won't get you all hot and bothered."

He slid a feverish gaze across my person, slowly, like a lover's passionate caress, sweeping down the rigid arch of my behind. A slow, intense perusal that elicited a hot and bothered reaction down there.

Tilting my chin up in defiance, I stared as well, my expressions stoic, daring him to do or say anything.

He didn't. Rather, he smirked and walked off to the adjacent entrance, my own burning gaze drilling holes on his perfectly sculpted back.

Phew. The breath I didn't know I'd been withholding streamed out, my arms sagging in relief.

All hot and bothered indeed. Conceited, entitled son of a bitch. He could have worn clothes a long time ago. Gifted me the fucking privilege of not having his sexy body imprinted on my mind.

Dumbass.

Now alone, I placed my bag on the maroon carpeted floor and observed Kian's living room. Red surrounded me, the elegant bulbs overhead highlighting the polished surfaces, a muted tone of black and ox-blood furniture littering the moderate room. A large tv, propped on a stand, sat proudly across from me, a bar next to a corner of the room, numerous drinks and wine glasses arranged on a polished counter.