Dear Grumpy Boss (Bossily Ever After #1)

Epilogue

Sasha

Six Weeks Later

I walk through One More Page , my dream come true, as if I’m floating on clouds. The bookstore opens to the public in two hours, and my heart flutters like the pages of an open book in a windstorm.

Two weeks since Zayn left on a trip to China, but it feels like a lifetime. Getting things ready for the opening kept me busy but now, knowing he’s on his way back tonight, makes my heart pound dangerously in my chest.

It’s the first time we’ve been apart and I’m not ashamed to admit that I didn’t cope well. Good thing my grandparents are back because I’m so ready to marry him, ready to start our life together.

After the night he proposed, I moved into his penthouse the next morning, packing up as much as I could in the one hour he gave me. But I returned home after he left for Beijing.

Only to discover another bit of life-changing news... a thousand butterflies flutter in my stomach as I wonder how he will react to this last bit.

Sighing, I rub my face against the sleeve of my shirt—his shirt—and drag in a deep breath.

Sweetness drifts in from Devil’s Donuts, the donut shop my best friend Mariska runs next door, the sugary warmth curling around me like a hug. A wide archway connects the two spaces, framed by a vintage wooden sign that reads Books & Bites, inviting customers to grab a book and a warm donut in one seamless, cozy experience.

Smiling to myself, I walk around, checking everything one more time.

Shelves line the walls, stacked high with crisp new books and well-loved secondhand finds. Cozy reading nooks, complete with plush armchairs and soft lighting, nestle between the shelves. The best seats in the house, though, are the window alcoves—wide, cushioned benches piled with throw pillows, positioned so they can watch the world outside while they escape into another.

Through the rain-streaked glass, I see downtown Seattle moving in a misty blur. Traffic lights reflect off the slick pavement, pedestrians huddle under umbrellas, and cherry blossoms tremble in the breeze, their pale pink petals scattering onto the sidewalks.

“You’re glowing.” Mariska leans against one of the shelves, arms crossed, smirking. “Either you’re high on the smell of books, or it’s the thrill of Zayn returning.”

I bite my lip, barely containing my excitement. “Latter,” I whisper, my heart thrumming.

Tonight, I’m going to tell my grumpy, possessive boss that he’s going to be a dad soon. I laugh at how I still call him ‘boss’ in my head. Given how bossy Zayn is, especially when he’s driving me towards the edge, it fits.

Nathan strolls in, with his stepdaughter Sophie and her friend/paid companion Jasmine. The young women’s awed squeals ring through the space as they shake off the drizzle.

“Sasha, this is incredible,” Sophie says, the delicate angles of her face set in wonder. With her blond hair pulled tight, she looks like a doll. “It feels like the kind of place you walk into and never want to leave.”

“That’s exactly what I want the customers to feel,” I say, heart full to bursting.

“And these nooks? Perfection.” Jasmine’s tone is soft as she sinks into one of the cushioned window seats, stretching her legs across the bench. She presses her cheek to the glass—hiding the large dark birthmark from the world. I wonder if she knows how frequently she does it.

“Will you keep me in mind if you need help around the store, Sasha?” Jasmine’s voice lowers into a whisper, her gaze on Nathan standing a few feet away. “I graduate in June, and it will be lovely to work for you.”

Before Sasha can reply, Sophie reaches her friend, blue eyes confused. “Why do you need another job, Jazz? If dad’s not paying you enough, I’ll talk to him.”

“What? Of course not.” Jasmine grips Sophie’s hand, as if she’s afraid she’ll bring Nathan’s attention to her. “Mr. Grayson’s more than generous.”

I bite a smile at how primly she says Nathan’s name and yet, there’s so much longing in it. Is it only me who can see this?

“What is it then?” Sophie demands.

Jasmine sighs. “You keep making all these elaborate plans for what you’re going to do when you graduate, Soph. That means I’ll need a new job.”

Sophie’s eyes widen, as if she didn’t consider how her actions might affect her best friend’s livelihood.

“Of course, I’ll keep you in mind, Jasmine,” I say into the awkward silence. “Pretty sure I’m going to need some help in the future.”

Jasmine nods.

“Stop offering to help people, willy-nilly, Jasmine,” Nathan says, having heard the last bit. “You’re stretched enough as it is, with things you do for Sophie and me at the house.”

When Sophie opens her mouth to correct him, Jasmine shakes her head.

“The bookstore looks great, Sasha.” He shakes his head. “I still can’t believe Zayn bought you a bookstore. Who knew my brother was a closet romantic?”

Before I can respond, the door chimes.

Jet-black hair damp, Zayn stands in the entryway. His amber eyes scan the room restlessly. “Why the hell are you all here?” His deep voice rumbles through the space, laced with irritation.

“We thought you weren’t getting in until later,” Nathan says, used to his brother’s bluster. “Jasmine suggested we should be present for the big opening, keep Sasha company.”

Zayn mutters thanks in the general direction of Jasmine. Then, his gaze locks onto mine, softening for a fraction of a second before he strides toward me with purpose, brushing past everyone else like they don’t exist.

A hundred years with this man and I won’t get used to the sensation of being the only one in his universe.

He stops in front of me, his towering frame blocking out the rest of the world. “I thought you said you’d be working on last-minute changes,” he mutters, his fingers grazing my wrist possessively. “Not throwing a damn social hour.”

I smile up at him, my pulse going haywire under his elegant fingers. God, I want to touch him so badly. “It’s not a social hour, it’s a celebration.”

His gaze flickers over my face, searching. Devouring. “Where can we have privacy?”

“Mari has a storeroom in the back,” I say, pointing to the donut shop.

Without another word, he drags me past the archway, past a grinning Mariska, and closes the door.

The storeroom is warm and sugar-dusted, the air thick with the scent of vanilla, fried dough, and melted chocolate. Tall metal shelves line the walls, stacked with bags of flour, tubs of glossy glazes, and trays of freshly baked pastries cooling under soft linen cloths. At the center of it all, a wide stainless-steel prep counter sits empty, wiped clean.

Stormy eyes dark with wicked intent, Zayn lifts me onto it. The metal is cool to my touch and I’m at the perfect height to wrap my legs around him. His mouth descends on me with a frenzied fervor while his hands are stroking and kneading every inch of me, as if he needs the physical anchor.

I clasp his cheeks, eyes filling up at the decadent sight of him. My heart barely settles into a steady beat before it races again. “I missed you, Zayn.” One lone tear runs down my cheek. “Two weeks without you is hard. Next time, will you take me with you?”

“No,” he says, nipping my lower lip. “I’m going to travel less. Can’t even fucking sleep without you wrapped around me like an octopus, Mouse.”

I smile into his kiss, my heart growing too large for my chest. “That’s probably a better idea. Especially since it might be—”

His palm covers my mouth. His hiss in my ear is delicious when I lick the center of his hand. “No talking right now. I need you, Mouse,” he says, pulling the hem of the long, floral skirt past my knees.

When his rough hands reach my center, immediately, they are gentle. Again and again, I’m awed by the contrast of Zayn’s rough need and how he readies me for it. How he makes me learn my own body’s needs better and better.

“Fuck! You have nothing beneath this, baby girl.” His forehead flops against mine while his fingers delve into my folds. His other hand is busy undoing the buttons of my shirt. “Keeping yourself ready for me?”

“Zayn...” I whimper, as he nudges my clit from side to side as if it’s his favorite switch, with his thumb. His other fingers wreak chaos on my folds.

“Answer me, Mouse.”

I grip his wrists and pant, needing more. “Yes. I know how much you like me bare. I thought I would tease you all evening, tell you I have nothing underneath.”

“Such a filthy girl for me.”

“Yes, please—”

Before I can say another word, one of my breasts pops out. I arch my neck and torso up just as Zayn wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks. It send electric shocks to my damp pussy, making me clench on emptiness. He nearly swallows the entirety of my breast into his mouth and releases me with a scandalous pop. At the same time, he plunges, one, then two fingers deep inside me.

I squeeze his fingers, harder than ever. Determined to keep him there.

“Fuck, Mouse. You’re drenching me.”

I keep my eyes closed, better to take in the sensations barreling through me. The clank of his belt buckle and the hiss of his zipper are amplified with my eyes closed. And then I feel it, the broad head of his erection nudging up against the entrance to my core.

“Look at how greedily you try to swallow me…Tell me how much you need this, Mouse.”

I fist my hands in his shirt while my hips cant forward, as if to trap him.

Zayn’s laugh is wicked, tightening the knot deep inside me.

“Give me your cock, Zayn. Now.” When he chuckles, I rub my lips against his neck. “You’ve turned me into a cock-slut who wants to come all the time. And you want to know what else I did?”

“Tell me,” he says, feeding the fat head inside.

After two weeks of an empty pussy, the stretch is a little pain and a lot of pleasure. I sneak my hands under his shirt and dig my nails into the warm muscles of his shoulders. “I read three smutty books and marked up the stuff I liked. For us to try.”

With a guttural groan, he plunges into me all the way. And without giving me a moment to catch my breath or get used to his thick length, he pumps those tapered hips in a rough, slow rhythm. Hits me deep and hard.

There’s nothing for me to do except to hang on for the ride. My arms around his shoulders, I let him take me how he needs me.

I come twice, moaning and keening his name, my body nothing but a doll in his hands.

Zayn erupts with a rough groan, his arm tight around me. “Every time,” he says, breath rasping like a whistle, “I think I know how it will feel. And every time, I’m rocked to the floor.”

I sigh, my face falling into his chest.

His kiss against my temple is a benediction. “No wiping yourself down, Mouse. Walk around the bookstore, welcome your customers, sell your books, all with my cum dripping down your thigh. And when you come home to me this evening, I’ll lick it all up and make you come again.”

“You think I won’t do it?” I say, still trembling.

Challenge shimmers in his gaze. He loves pushing me past my limits. And every time he does, I discover how much of a slut I’m for him, and how there are newer limits to discover.

I lick that pouty lower lip of his and smile. “It’s on, boss.”

He laughs and kisses me again. But this kiss is soft, reverent. Then he pulls back, as if he needs a wider, better view of me. A frown mars his brow. “You look different.”

I’m not surprised he can see the change in me. I take his hand and bring it to my belly. “All your hard work paid off, Zayn.” A giggle escapes my mouth. It’s clear in the sound that I’m tense. “I’m four weeks pregnant.”

His expression turns wild. Wondrous. He thrusts a shaking hand through his hair. “Fuck, Mouse! You’re such a little hard worker, already growing my bean.”

“You’re happy then?”

He bends low and kisses my belly. “That you squeeze me and milk me for everything I have every single time? Yes. That my baby girl is so fertile for that she’s already grabbed my seed? Hell yes. I can’t wait to see you barefoot and pregnant. Can’t wait for these tits to grow bigger and heavier with milk. Can’t wait to have little girls with thick braids and big eyes to run around me, asking for my attention.”

I laugh and clasp his razor-sharp cheeks. How is the universe so good to me? How is this beautiful man all mine? “And if it’s boys?”

He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “You know how shitty my dad was? What if I—”

I press a hand to his mouth, tenderness filling me. “What if you are like Nathan with them?”

His eyes widen with fresh excitement. “Nathan’s a damned good role model. I guess I can ask him a few pointers. Make some notes. I’ll feel better if I prepare for it.”

I laugh and kiss him again. “That you’re willing to do your best means you’ll be a good dad, Zayn.”

He kisses my knuckles, one by one, his heart in his eyes. “I love your faith in me, Mouse. I feel like a different man when I’m with you.”

“I love who I’m with you too, Zayn,” I whisper, planting kisses all over his face. “And I love you.”

“Two weeks, Mouse.”

“For what?” I say, delirious with happiness. Although I’m used to Zayn’s time-bound commands now, something tickles at the back of my head about this one.

“For you to make arrangements. Hire a wedding planner. Outsource everything. Keep Mari by your side 24/7. I’m not waiting any longer.”

“But Zayn—”

His kiss is biting and rough and steals my heart all over again. I plunge my hands into his hair and sink into it.

If I get to be Mrs. Zayn Grayson in two weeks, I’ll rearrange the entire world to make it happen. That’s the confidence this man’s love has given me.

Thank you so much for reading my first instalove romance. I have so many more coming!