The Boss: Naughty To Do List (book 5) (A Hotwife In The City) by Mariah V. Fox

Author:Mariah V. Fox [Fox, Mariah V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orange Rock Publishing
Published: 2019-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Brooke, Jesus Christ, congratulations,” Monica says, throwing both arms around me like she’s trying to suffocate me under the weight of her giant tits. These babies put mine to shame, even if she does wear turtlenecks almost every day to cover them. “Mr. Santoro said not to bother you but, man, look at this office.”

She twirls around the room like I wanted to last night. Parker didn’t lie, the cleaning crew must have come through early this morning to rid the room of its stench. Right now, it just smells like the flowers that he left on my desk. He didn’t sign the card but I know it was him, Elliot’s too damn busy, not to mention cheap, to buy me something and send it to the office. They’re beautiful.

“I love what you’ve done in here. The candle, the blanket on your chair. I didn’t know you were into crystals.”

I’m not paying attention to what she’s saying. I can’t stop thinking about what Parker did to me in this office. He had my god damn legs around his shoulders. I wore the same shoes just so I could think about it every time I looked at them. I feel like a sexpot with my cleavage peeking out of my slinky silk top. It’s not flashy or showy but way more fashionable than the plain black pantsuits I’m used to wearing.

Elliot might have been right about the velvet, I feel, I don’t know, sensual in them. If that makes any sense. Not to mention the strappy as hell underwear he helped me into this morning. Yes, I needed his help. Shut up, there were too many holes, I have trouble with normal thongs. He gave me an approving pat on the ass that he immediately regretted after he remembered the spankings I took the night before.

There’s a knock on my office door. I jump out of my skin, hoping it’s Mr. Santoro in all his sexiness. Even if I can’t jump his bones like I want to, it will still be nice laying eyes on him for the first time today. But it’s Brett.

“Congratulations, B,” he says, air kissing me on both cheeks like he’s actually happy for me. I can tell it’s fake, he knows it, but he brown noses anyway. Now that I’m his boss, I think but don’t actually say.

“Mr. Santoro told me to bring you my ideas for the Delivery America ad in writing,” he says, sliding a pile of papers onto my desk. “After he got done reaming me out for taking credit for the last one. I have no idea what he’s talking about. We both came up with that talking bear. But, either way, it was fabulous.”

I roll my eyes but try not to let him see. Brett wanted a turtle in a khaki suit. Not the same thing, not by a long shot. You couldn’t even see the insignia on his chest, because turtles can’t stand up!

“Anyway, here are the vacation days I

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