Dear Grumpy Boss (Bossily Ever After #1)

5. Zayn

Five

Zayn

My little Mouse is into me.

I have no doubt now. Sasha’s imprinting me into those filthy romance novels, and the thought lights me up as if there’s a furnace inside me.

And fuck, that body of hers, those glorious tits with their fat nipples, like milk-chocolate chips…my little assistant’s body is as delicious and ripe as the peach I caught her biting into last week.

I should fire my imagination immediately because it did a shoddy job of picturing Sasha for me.

All I want to do is lean in and bend down and pull that proud, taunting nipple into my mouth, lace and all. I’d suck so hard, alternating between both nipples, that she’d do that jiggle-squeeze with her thighs that she thought I didn’t notice. If she’s sensitive enough there, I’d make her come by just licking and lapping those fat nipples.

The slow, soft burn I’ve been ignoring for months now is a persistent, needy beat in my blood. Acres of smooth, golden skin that I could leave marks on with my fingers and teeth. That lush cleavage begging to be painted with ropes of my cum.

And that belly-button ring, I’d roll it around with my tongue before going down to the treasure below.

I want her. And she wants me. There’s nothing in the world that will stop me now.

Except… she’s leaving. Me.

She’s leaving me.

A sudden flash of lighting paints the sky, dark clouds visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls in the penthouse. The thunder that booms next couldn’t match the feral ferocity of my heart now.

Think, Zayn.

I could take a chance and make my move. I want to kiss her so badly anyway, and that could turn the tide. But I’m not playing to win the battle, but the war.

I want her to want to stay with me. I want her to realize that she belongs with me. And not just for a day or one fantasy.

“Zayn?”

A notepad and pen in hand, she sits across from me on the couch, her knees neatly tucked together. Over her shoulder, her thick braid dangles like a rope, a silly pink string tied at the end. It would come in handy, twisted around my hand while I pin her down with my hips.

“Zayn!”

“What?” I retort. Damn, but those tits make my sweatshirt look better than it ever did on me. Like an ownership tag. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Her eyes are so earnest in her round face. She’s got no idea how filthy my thoughts are. “Are you getting one of your migraines?”

My hand goes to my temple. “No.”

“What did you—”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

She puts the pen down with a calmness that scrapes against my temper. “It’s not up for discussion.”

My pointless retort is cut off by another flash of lightning and boom of thunder.

Sasha chews on her lower lip, eyes wide as she glances outside. “Are you worried about the weather?”

“No. I’m not worried about the freaking weather.”

“Well, I am. The party’s in like three hours. And this downpour…” She checks her phone and looks up. “What if the staff—”

“The hotel is like… across the street. If any of the staff can’t make it, then they don’t deserve to celebrate with a party.”

She gasps. “That’s…awful, Zayn.”

“I stand corrected, Mouse.” I press my hand to my chest, feigning repentance. And I can see the edges of the smile already curving her mouth. “They don’t actually deserve to work at my company.”

She sighs. Her tits rise and fall.

I’m fascinated by everything to do with them. I want to fall asleep with my face tucked in between them. And for a midnight snack, I could suck on them and get her off. And because I know it will make me hungry, I’d eat her out. Then I’d feed her my—

“They’re not all bad.”

My wet daydream is fractured by something in her voice. Something like…pain. I jerk into a seated position, glad for the cover of the throw pillow on my lap. “What do you mean not all bad ?”

She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and clicks the pen. I know all her nervous tics and that’s a major one. “I meant they’re all mostly nice, Zayn.”

Lie.

“Nice or kind?”

“What?” Her eyes widen.

“Gramps taught me the distinction years ago. Are they nice to you, Mouse?”

Her eyes shine brightly at the mention of her grandfather. Another thread of connection that tugs us together and binds us.

For a lauded genius, I’m such a fool. All I’ve ever wanted in life has been sitting outside my office.

“You remember everything he said to you after all these years?” she asks, leaning forward.

“Of course I do. Now,” I say, leaning forward too, “is the staff here kind to you?”

Her mouth wobbles and her shoulders bow inward. As if she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Not really.”

My chest tightens so hard that I can’t breathe for a second. Her ache whips around me, mocking me. How many things did I not know about Mouse except that she’s a fantastic assistant and all-around wonderful human being?

“Tell me.”

She shakes her head.

“Please, Mouse,” I whisper, fighting the urge to jump over the ridiculous coffee table and pull her into my lap.

“I…you’ll get mad and fire them. I…I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“It won’t be, because it will be on mine. It’s my responsibility to look after you.”

“It’s not,” she says in a sudden burst. She laces her fingers together, unlaces them, then wraps her arms around her midriff. “There’s only so much you can enforce on a group of adults, Zayn.”

“What did they do?”

She won’t even look at me now.

“Look at it this way, Mouse. You’re efficient, disciplined, on time, and you’re one of the kindest people I know. If they can hurt you, even knowing that you and I are close…” Her eyes lift to mine, searching greedily. “They might target that watchman Ibrahim with the lisp or Natasha in marketing for her poor English skills, or even your friend Mariska when she delivers breakfast every Friday.”

A rough breath shudders out of her. I know my girl and I hate that I’m causing her this pain. But she will do things for the people she cares about. “They call me Ugly Shetty. Behind my back,” she adds after a beat. As if that makes it okay.

Fury licks flames through me and I shoot out of my seat. Hands fisted, I walk around the coffee table and I want to smash something. Or someone.

“Zayn…”

I’m so angry that my heart thumps dangerously in my chest. “You should’ve told me.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not worth it. And I got over it after a while. I’ll never be thin enough or tall enough or fashionable enough for some crowds and that’s okay.”

She was sixteen when she started working in this office part-time while I traveled full-time. Young and naive, with a kind of artless innocence that nearly gave me whiplash, even years after I first met her. She shouldn’t have had to put up with that kind of bullying at all. Not under my roof.

Why did I not see it? Why didn’t she tell me?

My legs act for me, and I kneel in front of her.

When I take a deep breath—because I want to say the right thing—I’m hit by her strawberry and vanilla scent. It calms me as much as it excites me. I want to tuck my face into all the contours and corners of her body to find a deeper thread of that scent, warmed by her skin.

This close, I can see the rich brown of her eyes, accented by the thick fringe of her lashes and the bow shape of her pink upper lip. Her nose has this cute little bump at the end, and messy tendrils escape her braid, framing her face.

Everything about her is so…real and sexy in a way I don’t have words for. I want to worship her with my mouth, my fingers, my entire body. And I will. Soon.

“Honestly,” she says, shying her gaze from mine. “I don’t even care anymore that I’m not all those things. And that’s the part that sticks in their craw. My contentment makes them resentful.”

And that’s the magic of this girl—her simple joy in life. I want that quality in mine as much as I want to bury myself in her lushness. It was foolish to think all I wanted from her was her pussy. But then, I’ve never been good at parsing any of this emotional stuff.

I cup her knees and feel the warm puff of her breath on my mouth.

“I’m sorry they made you feel unsafe here. I should have protected you better—”

She presses a finger to my lips. The contact sends instant tingles through me. I want to open my mouth and lick her up, but this isn’t the moment for that. She needs to know that she’s safe with me. Always.

“Believe it or not, it has made me stronger. And wiser, eventually. It made me realize reality can never stand up to my books.”

“You’ll still give me the names.” Now I’m the one cutting off her protest with a finger against her lips. They are soft and I absently run my fingertip over the upper one. She bows into the touch slightly and the feeling is better than when I made my first million. “Come, Mouse. You know how much I hate bullies.” It’s a miracle that I manage to keep the bitterness that has hardened my heart out of my voice. “This can’t be allowed to go on, especially now that I know of it.”

She taps my finger away. “You can’t mean to—”

I shoot to my feet. “Fire them? Absolutely.”

Her fingers around my wrist arrest me. “Zayn, please don’t—”

I lean down and run a finger over the corner of her mouth. Her surprised gasp is sweet. “You’re beautiful, Mouse. Like those deep, thick-petaled roses Nathan’s nanny grows. At first glance, they look wild and common. Not everyone has the eyes to see that beauty.”

Her gaze holds mine as if searching for mockery. Still holding my hand, she comes to her feet. Goes up on her toes and presses a kiss on my jaw.

It goes straight to my heart, splintering the hard shell around. Her tits rub against my biceps, her scent envelops me, and I let the warmth from different sources drizzle through me.

She isn’t just beautiful.

She’s…more. She’s everything. And she’s mine.

I can’t wait to pluck each petal, until she’s unraveled around me.

And it has to be tonight, while this new awareness between us is raw and real.