Fighting for My Billionaire Boss (4 page)

“There’s a lot you don’t know about ladies.” I roll over and fall off the desk. “Shit.”

He catches me before I hit the carpet and lugs me upward. “True. I didn’t know they could cuss.” My boss places me back on the desk and pins my body with his. “Did I hurt you?” He gazes down at me, his expression concerned.

My heart melts.

“You didn’t hurt me.” My pussy, ass, everything is sore, but it’s a good sort of soreness, like the way my muscles feel after a strenuous workout.

“Good.” He skims his lips over mine, his kiss teasingly light.

Knuckles rap against the door.

“They’ll go away,” Brick murmurs against my skin.

“But they’ll be back.” I push my palms against his shoulders. He sucks on my chin. I’m unable to budge him. “You have meetings booked for the entire day.”

He frowns. “I said they were to be cancelled.”

“I’m your assistant, the person responsible for canceling those meetings.” I stifle a smile. My boss is so adorably arrogant, assuming his word would be disseminated throughout the office. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll rearrange your schedule, freeing up your day.”

“I plan to fill that day with you.” Brick takes care of the condom, tossing it into the wastebasket. I catch a glimpse of rock-hard abs, narrow hips, black private curls. He pulls up his pants, fastens them, buckles his belt, and tucks in his shirt.

He’s back to being my impeccably dressed CEO. I’m shamelessly naked, except for the shoes on my feet.

“You have to attend the gala tonight.” I sit upright, looking around us for my clothes. “The charity is counting on you to make an appearance. It doesn’t have to be a long appearance, merely enough to give them some media coverage.”

“You want me to go?” Brick holds out my skirt and petticoats.

“It’s a good cause.” I step into the circle of fabric. “Where are my panties?”

“You don’t need them.” He zips me up and playfully fluffs my skirt. “I’ll attend the gala tonight.”

“You’ll need a date.” We’re a couple now. He’ll ask me. We’ll attend the event together. I’ll be the woman he introduces to other guests, the woman he goes home with.

My boss helps me into my jacket. “I’ll talk to Gretchen.”

Pain shoots through my heart. “You’ll ask her to go to the gala with you.”

Brick nods. “She’ll want something in exchange for suppressing the fight footage.” He fastens the buttons on my jacket one by one. “I’ll do whatever she asks to keep you out of the media spotlight.”

“What if I want to be in the spotlight?” I’d pay that price to be with him.

“You don’t want that.”

“I do.” I clasp his hands. “Because that’s where you are. You’ll always be in the spotlight and I want to stand beside you.” I want us to be a couple.

“That’s not necessary.” Brick lifts my fingers to his face. “We’ll spend more time here, at the office.” He brushes his lips over my knuckles. “The paparazzi will believe we’re working. No one has to know that you’re more than my assistant.”

I pull my hands away from him. “I’ll be your work fuck.” He’ll continue to date, to bed glamorous, gorgeous women. I’ll be his dirty little secret.

“You’ll be my only fuck.” Brick draws me into his arms, pressing my face against his chest. “I don’t want any other woman.”

“You’ll hold Gretchen tonight,” I mumble against his silk tie. “You’ll kiss her. The paparazzi will expect that. She will also.”

And I’ll be alone.

“That’s all I’ll do.” He strokes my hair.

I savor his touch, relish the warmth, the scent, the strength of him for one more moment. This is where I want to be, to stay.

Forever. Not simply between the hours of nine and five.

“That’s all you’ll do for how long? A week? More?” I wiggle free. “Hey, I might last eight days and tie for the record.”

“Lucille—”

“Don’t say our relationship will last longer than that because it can’t, not under those restrictions.” I stomp toward the door. “A quick fuck at the office isn’t enough for me. I want a man I can eat dinner with, strong arms around me while I sleep, whispered ‘I love yous’ in the dark, hot, sweaty sex in the morning. I’m willing to tolerate the paparazzi, the gossip, the cameras to have all of that.” To have him.

“You believe that now, but you don’t know how cruel the paparazzi can be. They’ll tear you apart.”

“Gretchen survived.” I place my hand on the doorknob and gaze over my shoulder at him.

“You’re not Gretchen.”

“You’re right. I’m not your ex.” I’m not one of his famous actresses or stunning supermodels, a woman he can be proud to have by his side, to introduce to his influential friends at fancy parties. “I’m stronger than she is.”

I open the door and stride away from him. Men and women in dark suits are waiting outside the office. They turn their heads as I exit.

“I’m sorry but we have to reschedule the big data meeting,” I announce, forcing a smile. “There’s been an emergency.”

Their CEO has to convince a famous actress not to release the fight footage. He said I’d be his only fuck. But he also said he’d do whatever Gretchen asked in order to shield me from the paparazzi.

The waiting men and women disperse. I return to my desk, trying to focus on the tasks I have to do.

One of these tasks is rescheduling Brick’s meetings. I’ve completed all but one when, moments later, my boss emerges from his office. He looks so damn handsome, not a wrinkle in his suit, and my heart squeezes.

Gretchen will ask him to fuck her, making that one of her requirements, and he’ll agree, telling himself he’s safeguarding me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I type faster and faster.

“Miss Henderson.”

I feel his gaze on my face but I refuse to look up.

He sighs. “I’m going out. I don’t know if I’ll be back today.”

Pain fills me. It shouldn’t take him all afternoon to talk to his ex.

“Don’t look like that.” Brick moves closer to me. “You know I can’t stand it.”

Fuck him. I can’t stand having my heart broken.

My boss places his hands over mine, stopping my furious typing. “I have to pro—”

“No, you don’t.” I turn my head and glare at him. “I might act dainty and delicate because I’m a fuckin’ lady.” I didn’t realize there were drawbacks to being a girly-girl. “But I don’t need your protection. I’m not as weak as you think I am. I can take care of my damn self.”

“I don’t think you’re weak.”

“Really?” I snort. “Because you sure the hell act like I am.” I’ve had enough of this bullshit. “Go. Ask Gretchen to the gala.” I slip my hands away from his. “If that makes your life easier. But don’t you dare pretend you’re doing it for me.”

Brick opens his mouth, hesitates, shuts it again, pivots and walks away. I watch his broad, suit-clad shoulders until he disappears around a corner.

I reschedule his last meeting for the day. Because that’s who I am—a goddamn professional, working while my boss cheats on me.

That cheating won’t last. Gretchen might win him back temporarily but I’m not letting him go without a fight. I message Arianna Ross, the organizer of the charity gala, asking if she has an extra ticket.

She replies mere minutes later with, “For you? Of course, I have a ticket.”

I gaze down at my phone. There are benefits to being a billionaire’s assistant.

“Did he finally come to his senses?” Chanelle asks over the shoulder-height cubicle wall. Vivi, her best friend, stands beside her.

They must have listened to the entire exchange with Brick. “No, he didn’t. He’s asking Gretchen to the gala. I’m going solo.”

“But you’ll be leaving with Mr. Armitage.” Chanelle’s eyes gleam with respect. “He’ll realize he loves you.”

“He doesn’t love me.” He’s likely fucking Gretchen as I speak.

“You don’t see the way he looks at you—like he’s starving and you’re one of those red velvet cupcakes you always bring him for his birthday. We never know if he’s going to lick you all over or simply gobble you up.” Chanelle looks at Vivi. Both women laugh. “We’ve been waiting for him to act on his feelings for years.”

“Men are clueless.” Vivi flips a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder. “We tried to give you as much privacy as possible, thinking he’d make a move. But nope, it took a catfight to push him into action.”

I must be clueless also because I didn’t know how my boss felt or what my co-workers had been doing. They hadn’t been excluding me. I gaze at the two women. They had been giving us privacy.

And they believe Brick loves me. Hope unfurls in my heart. “You want him to be with me? Gretchen is very beautiful.”

“Gretchen was a fling.” Chanelle dismisses her as a possibility. “The boss doesn’t care about her and neither do we. She isn’t one of us, not like you are.”

They consider me to be one of them. My chest warms.

“What are you wearing tonight?” She rests her arms on the top of the cubicle wall. “You’ll want to sex it up.”

“Make him drool,” Vivi nods.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Shit. That’s a problem.

“You don’t?” They exchange another glance, communicating without speaking. “We could help you choose a dress.”

“You’d do that for me?” I blink, fighting to suppress my emotions.

“Yeah.” Chanelle says this as though it’s ridiculous for me to think they wouldn’t.

They consider me to be one of them. They want me to be with Brick. They’re willing to use their girl world expertise to help me. “I’d really like that.” My voice is choked.

“Yes! Shopping trip!” The women cheer. More coworkers stand, looking toward us. “Who’s coming with us?”

***

Almost every woman in the office joins us, grandmothers, student interns, fashion divas, their ages ranging from nineteen to sixty-four. The men watch us leave, their expressions bemused and bewildered.

I commandeer the company limos to transport us, pushing away my guilt. Brick is traveling in style. We should also.

We don’t shop right away. First, we get our nails done, our hair styled, our makeup applied, hiding the red scratches on my face. All the women pamper themselves also.

We drink champagne, finishing the bottles stored in the limos. Every venue supplies us with more alcohol. We order salads for lunch, nibble on chocolate-covered strawberries. This does nothing to dampen the buzz I quickly develop.

Chanelle and the other ladies take control of my transformation. I relax and enjoy being part of the group, following their advice, blushing at the good-natured teasing.

They all believe Brick loves me, has loved me for years. This bolsters my confidence, reassuring me that I am doing the right thing—fighting for what I want.

As we walk into the changing rooms at the boutique, I try not to think about Brick; about how he hasn’t called me; hasn’t returned to the office; hasn’t realized that I’m gone. He must still be with Gretchen.

The women undress me, giggling over my lack of bra and panties.

They know Brick fucked me.

He fucked Gretchen yesterday. It shouldn’t matter to me if he fucks her today, if he’s inside her right now, calling her name instead of mine.

But it does. He’s my man now, not hers.

“This is the dress I see you in.” Chanelle pulls a flimsy floral silk number over my head.

I gaze at my reflection in the dressing room mirror. “It looks like lingerie.” The hem of the slip dress reaches mid-thigh. I turn. The back is low, dipping damn close to my ass crack. “It doesn’t cover much.”

“That’s the point,” Vivi nods. “He’ll see you and think of sex. I doubt you’ll make it to the gala.”

“He won’t want any other man looking at you.” Chanelle appears pleased.

“Found them.” One of the ladies places a pair of strappy high heels on the carpet before me.

The shoes give me more inches but not more coverage. “I can’t wear a bra with this dress.” I look down at my nipples. They press against the silk. “Everything, and I mean
everything
, shows.”

“A bra adds another layer.” Chanelle waves one of her newly manicured hands. “And you don’t need it. You have small breasts, not like these.” She cups her own larger cleavage. “And, clearly, he prefers that you don’t wear a bra.”

“Or panties,” Vivi adds.

The women laugh. My face heats. “I’ll need panties.”

“Try these.” One of the ladies passes me a skimpy pastel pink G-string.

It might merely be a triangle held in place with ribbons but I feel a little more covered. I study my image in the mirror. The dress is more daring than anything I’ve ever worn.

Brick’s women attend formal events in much less. I have to be as brave as they are. “You’re sure this is the dress?”

“This is the dress,” Chanelle assures me. The women nod.

“Then I’ll buy it.” I hand over my credit card to the ecstatic saleswoman.

“This is cause for a celebration.” Vivi has found another bottle of champagne. She pours. We drink. I stay in my dress. The gala is a couple of hours from now. There’s no reason to change.

“Thank you for this.” I hug Chanelle and Vivi. “I had fun today.”

They hug me back. “You think this is fun.” Chanelle grins. “Wait until we go wedding dress shopping.”

“Weddings,” the women cheer, clinking their champagne flutes together. Bubbly spills. My phone hums.

I squint at the small screen. “It’s Brick.”

“Ohhh…”

“It’s the boss.”

“Lu loves you, boss,” Vivi yells.

I ignore them and answer, “Good afternoon. Lucille Henderson speaking.”

“I’m at the office. Where the hell are you?” Brick doesn’t sound happy.

His meeting with Gretchen must not have gone well. I smile, delighted. “I’m at a boutique, buying a dress. It’s very sexy.”

The women whoop.

“Some ladies from the office are helping me,” I feel the need to confess. “Don’t be mad at them. They couldn’t say no. I’m the assistant to the CEO.” I pause. “And we took the company limousines. Again, that was my decision.”

“I don’t care about that.” He’s breathing heavily as though he’s running. “Send me the address and stay there. Don’t leave the building, any of you. We’ll use the other limos as a decoy.”

“Why do we need a decoy?”