Boss in the Bedsheets by Kate Canterbary

Author:Kate Canterbary [Canterbary, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vesper Press
Published: 2020-06-25T16:00:00+00:00

We played another round of the touching game as we returned to the city but there was nothing mild or innocent about this iteration. It was all deep, lingering thigh squeezes, rough fingertip scrapes, clasped-hand knuckle kisses with a side of teeth. Everything about it was aggressive—and intentional.

The elevator ride from the basement garage to Ash's apartment was quiet and close, our arms tangled around each other as if we would drown otherwise. It seemed absurd to think that but when I caught sight of us in a mirrored panel, I knew it was true.

Instead of climbing inside my mind to examine why we always resorted to lifeboat-style embraces or analyze any of the other emotional stones I'd overturned today, I rested my head on his chest and granted myself permission to experience this. This man wanted me and cared for me and drove me a bit crazy, and none of that was impacted by my past decisions. I didn't have to live inside those decisions anymore. I wasn't required to be that person anymore. I could make one right decision after another and build a brand-new me.

We were completely civilized when we exited the elevator, strolled down the hall, stepped inside the apartment. I slipped out of my shoes and set down my purse. Ash hung up his keys and secured his phone in its charging station. Completely civilized.

Then his hand was on the back of my neck and my body was flat against his and I could taste the way he wanted me. It was a smoky heat, almost bitter, like he'd burned for me all this time and could only now show me the charred truth.

I liked that. Probably too much. And I liked the way he'd reached for me like I was his to take as aggressively, as imperiously, as unapologetically as he wanted. There was a violence to it, one I felt in a desperate, sacrificial sense. I wanted to be taken. Stolen away from the polite domesticity of phone charging and shoe removal, and stripped down to our most basic, elemental pieces—the ones that seemed to fit together without us knowing how or why.

"We can't do this tomorrow," I whispered to his lips.

"What's tomorrow and why the hell not?" he asked, gathering my shirt in his fist as he took my mouth again.

He was going to rip it if he wasn't careful.

I hoped to hell he wasn't careful.

"Tomorrow," I managed between kisses. "Monday. We can't do this at work. Not at your office."

He pulled back from my mouth, his eyes pleated at the corners. "Not at the office."

"It's just—we can't."

That neck grab cemented a few things for me and now I knew there was no way I could do this and work even a tiny bit because I'd want it all day. The almost-torn shirt and the arrogant hand on my neck. No work would be completed in that office, not a minute of it. "We shouldn't. There have to be limits. Ground rules.

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