Bewitching the Boss by Kane Jessa

Author:Kane, Jessa [Kane, Jessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Byron brings me to lunch at a private club. I’ve never been here, nor did I know it existed. He holds my hand on the way through a shaded courtyard, through a fence and into a stately looking brick building. An older gentleman in a suit greets us just inside the door and without a word, he guides us through a lounge area complete with billiard tables, low lighting and a smattering of members on their laptops. We’re brought to a small, intimate dining room located downstairs in a wine cellar. A table has been set up with white linens, candles, a bottle of wine.

Byron DeWitt arranged this lunch for me.

He came to my job and carried me here, refusing to take no for an answer. And now he’s holding a chair for me, looking for all the world like he can barely contain his hunger long enough to make it through this meal.

“On second thought.” He shoves the chair back into place and crosses to his own, sitting down and crooking a finger at me. “You’ll sit with me. Come here.”

Oh my God. I’m going to hyperventilate.

“It’s too much,” I rasp, hot shivers raking up and down my arms.

He watches me steadily, unblinking. “What is too much?”

“You being like this.” Like me. But out in the open.

“Do you want me to restrain it?” he asks. “This way you’ve made me feel about you?”

“No, I want it to run loose. That’s the problem.”

“You’re too late to stop it, Jane.” He’s breathing hard. “Come sit down.”

My mind is usually a palace of intensity, but it never spreads into real life. It feels like I’m living in one of my fantasies. It can’t be a dream, though. Everything is real. The smooth linen tablecloth beneath my fingertips, the glare of sunlight bouncing off the drinking glasses, the distant crack of billiard balls hitting each other. And Byron’s arm when it comes up and locks around my hips, drawing me backward, down possessively into his lap—that is very real.

“You’re a lot different than the first time I met you,” I whisper, exhaling tremulously when his mouth drags across the bare slope of my shoulder. “You were shy then. A little clumsy.” From behind, his teeth rake my neck and I gasp. “This is far from clumsy.”

His mouth pauses against my skin. “When I saw that man speaking to you in the coffee shop, something changed in me. I realized…you have options.” He grips my knee hard. “Eliminating those options is taking up all of my concentration. I don’t have room for shy. I can’t be self-conscious when all of my focus is going toward not eating you alive. Yet.”

“Yet?”

The way he hums in my ear makes my core clench. “I told you, I’m not getting physical with you again until we separate real life and…”

“Play time?” I offer in a thready breath, my eyes barely able to stay open, I’m so overcome simply by having this intimate conversation with him. Being held by my Byron.

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