Dirty Rich Cinderella Story by Jones Lisa Renee

Author:Jones, Lisa Renee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Patra Publishing
Published: 2018-05-22T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lori

He owns me.

I stand in the bathroom off the hallway I’ve now made out with my boss in, I stare at my smudged makeup and wild hair, and decide that statement is as honest as it gets.

He owns me.

Good Lord, I all but admitted to being turned on by him being my boss. And I was. I didn’t think that could be possible, but in that office that I barely even saw for the distraction of his tongue, I was most definitely living a boss fantasy. Which is much better when you’re in the moment than living the aftermath. Or maybe I wasn’t living a boss fantasy. Maybe I’m just turned on by Cole in any and all capacity. Not that it matters. For someone who didn’t want to mix pleasure with work, I just managed to moan and orgasm on a desk in some nameless person’s office that I hope remains nameless.

I open my purse and do my best to fix my face and hair with the few items I’ve creatively fit in my tiny bag. Thankfully I have lipstick, a concealer, a tiny comb and a petite hairspray, all of which I waste no time putting to use. Time is critical, not just because of the party either. The longer I’m down some hallway with Cole, the more obvious we are. I walk to the door, steel myself for the man on the other side, and exit.

He’s leaning on the wall, looking all Tall, Dark and GQ—no, all Tall, Dark and Just Owned Me, in his perfectly fitted suit. The man doesn’t even have a hair out of place, standing there, one foot crossed over the other, his arms folded over his perfect, broad chest and me on his lips.

He straightens to his barbaric height. And he is barbaric, or I wouldn’t have ended up with my skirt to my waist and his tongue doing the things it did to me. “Ready?” he asks.

“Of course, I’m ready,” I say, turning away from him and starting down the hallway. I’m not going to let what just happened affect me during the party. I have a job. I have a boss.

He gives a low, sexy laugh, and steps to my side. “No doubt in my mind,” he assures me. “And considering I can still taste you on my lips, this party might just be tolerable.”

I stop walking and look at him. “Cole—”

He turns to face me, intimacy and warmth in his blue eyes. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Don’t say anything like that in that room, please,” I say. “Because I’m not sure I can hide my reaction.”

“But I can say it when we’re alone?”

“Yes,” I say, because denial has gotten me nowhere, which was the point of this entire night, “but only when we’re alone. Now you say yes.”

“Yes,” he says. “Just us. Our secret.”

“Our secret,” I repeat, and I don’t know why, but right then in that moment, agreeing to our secret rather than fighting it, somehow deepens the intimacy between us.

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