Beneath the Boss: Book One by Lydia Rowan

Author:Lydia Rowan [Rowan, Lydia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Contemporary Interracial Romance
Publisher: Lydia Rowan
Published: 2014-12-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

When she got home, she sat in her driveway a few moments before heading into the house. She’d taken her car, needed the drive to clear her head, if such a thing was possible.

I slept with Leighton.

She got out of the car and entered the house. She dropped her keys in the ashtray, took off her shoes, hung her jacket, same as she did every other day. But tonight was different.

I slept with Leighton.

The thought plagued her as she sorted her mail, rummaged through the fridge for a snack before settling on a diet cola.

I slept with Leighton.

The mantra continued as she walked through her bedroom and into the bath and as she peeled off her suit jacket, skirt, and blouse, and placed them in the laundry bag. She reached for her underwear, and the movement was a reminder that Leighton’s handkerchief—and his cum—still remained.

Oh God. I slept with Leighton.

She walked over to the vanity and looked in the mirror, studied her reflection. She looked the same as she had this morning, didn’t see anything that would explain why she’d let her boss, sometimes nemesis, and occasional friend, fuck her against his office door like she was a cheap whore. Or why she’d enjoyed it. Layla turned away from her reflection and pulled off her panties, refusing to acknowledge the little trill in her belly when she felt Leighton’s cum trickle out of her.

Her shoulders sagged. Her strength fled, and she could barely stand long enough to shower. A few short minutes later, she crawled into bed, sleep taking her almost instantly.

••••

Leighton paced in his office, careful to avoid looking at the still-closed door. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like he could think of anything else. He didn’t know what had come over him.

He’d fucked Layla. Seen her standing there, fire in her eyes and fierce anger on her face, and he’d kissed her. Kissed her and then rutted like an animal, her silence and the oh so snug grip of her walls pushing him into a frenzy he’d never experienced. It was too late to make a difference, but he hoped her hadn’t hurt her. He stopped short, and his stomach dropped.

She’d been tight, tighter than anyone else he’d fucked.

Oh God.

She’d been a virgin. And he hadn’t used a condom.

He let the realization sink in. Tried to regret it and failed. He wished he could have made it nicer, been more tender, but he wasn’t sorry. It actually felt…good. Right.

She was Layla, his best employee, and if he was being honest, the only person he trusted implicitly.

Had trusted implicitly.

The memory flooded through him in wave, heating his skin and making his heart race. She was going to leave him. Cared so little about the business, about him, that she was moving on to another job like it was nothing.

“Damn it,” he yelled and slammed the decanter he’d been holding against the door, his earlier concerns about Layla shattering like the glass.

He knew better than to trust anyone,

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