The Boss
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jan 16, 2023
Garrett gulped as he stared down the long, empty hallway. He couldn't help but think how much of a tyrant this woman must be to have a whole floor dedicated just and solely for her unwitted pleasure. His steps were slow, cautious as he neared the huge double mahogany doors. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, a sigh escaping his lips as he thought of the dark and velvety voice he heard through the office phone just minutes before. He was inches away from the door now, his head spinning as he inhaled a temptingly delicious scent. He was aroused, the stirring member in his pants was enough to tell him that. Garrett raised his hand hesitantly to the large doors, holding back a shakey sigh that was threatening to leave his lips as another wiff of that seductively enchanting scent wafted up his nostrils. His knuckles rasped against the mahogany doors thrice before a sultry voice sounded through the dark doors, freezing his hand in its spot before it could rasp against the door for the fourth time. "Come." The voice seemed neutral and yet there was such undivided attention towards the brewing innuendo that revealed itself after one simple word. Garrett steadied his quivering hands as he hesitated in entering the dragon's lair. "Fuck." He muttered, taking the time now to loosen his seemingly suffocating tie. Pushing the doors open, he was greeted with a blast of flavored smoke in his face. He had to squint to adjust to the darkness in the room as the doors slammed shut behind him. The gold patterning of velvet curtains in the corner of the room was what immediately caught his attention. The clink of ice against a glass cup was what drew Garrett's attention away from the window. At the center of the room was the small burning light of a cigarrette bud. It was only now that Garrett noticed the woman resting behind that cigarrette. "Fuck indeed." SNEAK PEAK SHORTENED DUE TO WATTPAD RESTRICTIONS.
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He swiped my sweat-soaked hair off my neck, resting his lips against my ear. His fiery breaths blew across my earlobe. My body shuddered once again, craving more of him. "You're not the first woman to think she could seduce me into bed because of who I am, what I write. And you won't be the last." He gave a small chuckle, pulling down my dress, so it covered me. "But," he said in a low growl, "so far...... you're my favorite." Breaths poured from my lips at those words. My heart fluttered inside my pounding chest. His favorite, my brain stuck to his words like glue. Clinging to the small hope we'd continue this somewhere else, more than once. We stayed in that position for a moment before his body heat disappeared from my back. He lit a cigarette in front of me, the flash of the lighter illuminating his flushed, sweat-soaked face. I leaned against the brick wall, finding comfort in the coolness against my heated skin. His eyes met mine again. I didn't think I could move from the spot, but he forced me to when he held up a red, lacy thong in between his fingers. My red lacy thong. Fucking panty thief! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Their worlds collided in a heated, passion-filled hook-up behind a bar, bringing their broken pieces together. And now? Mercy finds herself as C.J. Cole's intern. The very Mr. Cole who wrote the most romantic, erotic books she had ever laid eyes on. How could she manage to keep her panties on around him? Or control herself? Hint: she won't. Mature warning.

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