Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (13 page)

I paused for a moment, taking note of how surreal the
situation around me was. I had, sitting on my sofa, one of the most powerful
men in the PR industry, a man who had become a billionaire by age twenty, the
CEO of the corporation in which I'd landed my dream job. And, we were about to
eat popcorn and drink Screwdrivers together like a couple of teenagers or broke
college kids.

I couldn't help giggling.

“What are you laughing at in there?” Asher’s voice
echoed from the living room.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” I replied, doing my best to
stifle the laughs.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah; if you say so,” he replied. “I can
smell that popcorn, by the way! It's starting to smell like a movie theater in
here!”

“You can start the movie,” I said. “The first bit is
just a song and credits.”

“Okay.”

“Turn it up, though, it's a great song!”

I heard the open beat and chords of Simple Minds' “
Don't You Forget About Me”
echoing
through my living room as Asher started the movie.

“You’re right! This
is
a great song!” he
exclaimed. “Man, I haven't heard this in years!”

When the popcorn was ready, I put it into a bowl,
grabbed a couple of glasses, got the orange juice and vodka, then placed it all
on a serving tray and headed to the living room.

“Ah, that smells great,” he said.

He looked up as I walked in and smiled, then stood to
help me with the tray. Once we were both reseated, he took the cap off the
vodka.

“Single or a double?” he asked.

“Make it a double.”

No clue why I'd chosen that, or whether it was a wise
course of action, but it was done and I had to go along with it.

“Feeling adventurous, huh? Well, I can’t be outdone by
a girl,” he winked. “Guess I'll make mine a double, as well.”

He poured and mixed the drinks, and I settled back on
the sofa even nearer to him than I had earlier. Our legs were practically
touching, and all I had to do was lean a little to the left and I'd be in his
arms. He handed me my drink and I immediately took a big gulp—probably a little
too big. The champagne had definitely gone to my head, and a sober me wouldn’t
think drinking a vodka double was the wisest thing to do under the
circumstances. But I wasn’t exactly sober and sometimes you just need to let go
and lose control for a while.

When I lowered my glass, he was staring at me. Our
eyes locked and an incredible wave of desire rushed through my entire body,
catalyzed by the alcohol. Timidly, I smiled and looked away. He shifted closer.

“Umm… Let's watch the movie,” I half whispered trying
to avoid the pull between us as I placed my glass on the table next to the
popcorn.

“Yeah…movie. Right. Let's watch,” he replied softly, a
hint in his voice of what I could only guess was the same struggle I was
facing.

I shifted on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. I
ended up leaning ever so slightly against him.

His arm slipped around my shoulder and pulled me in
closer. I rested my head on his shoulder, trying to focus on the movie playing.

The gentle touch of his fingertips stroked down my
cheek as he brushed a strand of my hair back. It felt like a familiar touch,
but still sent a shiver down my arm. I imagined my hair had wandered into his
face and he was simply repositioning it, but then his fingers retraced their
path and moved down until they came to rest under my chin. Slowly, he guided my
face to turn toward him and then tilted my chin up until our eyes met. My pulse
quickened.

His hand threaded through my hair as he leaned close,
his lips covering mine possessively, but tenderly. I melted into his embrace,
into the mad, desperate, passionate kiss I had dreamed about since our first one.
Only, this kiss was hungry—more ravenous than that of a pack of winter-starving
wolves.

Asher growled as my fingers drifted over his broad
shoulders and chest, sighing as I finally touched bare skin at his neck. He
groaned as I traced the column of his throat with my fingertips, excitement
building within me. I wanted him under my touch more than I had ever wanted any
man.

Through a fury of kissing and hands exploring, I began
unbuttoning Asher’s dress shirt, tracing the contour of his well-defined chest
as I did. It was more than I could handle.

I stood abruptly and disengaged myself from our mad
embrace.

“Follow me,” I commanded, trying to catch my breath.

He nodded and followed me to my bedroom where things
took a very different turn. A strange impulse came over me, and in a sudden
rush of power, I took over. I wanted to make the most powerful man I’d ever
known see what it was like to not be in control for a change.

“I'm in charge here,” I insisted as I removed my
T-shirt to expose my black, lace bra. “And, you're going to do exactly what I
say.” I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off, standing before him in matching
boy shorts.

He grinned cheekily and reached out to touch me, but I
slapped his hand away.

“No, no, no,” I said. “You were not given permission.
Now, if you can’t follow orders, I'm putting my clothes back on. Do you
understand?”

My blood was racing through my veins, hot and eager.
Part of me wanted to give in and let his hands explore every inch of my body,
but another part wanted to show Asher Sinclair that I was capable of power and
dominance.

And
that
was the part that won.

“I'll do whatever you say,” he responded.

“That's what I like to hear,” I said. “Now take your
pants off—nice and slow.”

He did exactly what I instructed. And that's when the
fun began.

CHAPTER 15

Asher

I awoke with a slight pounding in my head; we'd
definitely had far too much to drink the night before. Lilah was lying next to
me, sleeping soundly. My eyes roved appreciatively over her exquisite
curves–those that were revealed outside of the sheets, at least. I leaned over
and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was just after five in the
morning: the time I usually woke up.

The last thing I wanted to do was leave, but I needed
to get back to my place. Bryce would be waiting to begin our training session
in an hour, and he would have no sympathy for me being late for any reason
beyond one that involved life and death situations.

I tried to ease out of Lilah's bed, not wanting to
wake her. Memories of what we had done together the previous night were
blasting through my mind. Certain parts of my anatomy began coming to life
rather quickly, but I didn't want to disturb her from what looked like a very
restful slumber.

I gathered my clothes, crept out of the room as
quietly as I could, and pulled the door closed quietly behind me. I got dressed
in the living room, where I'd left my wallet and keys the night before. I
thought about leaving her a note, but couldn’t find anything to write on and I
wasn’t about to start snooping through drawers, so I slipped out of her
apartment, making sure the door was locked behind me.

The streets were quiet and relatively empty at such an
early hour, so I was able to drive fast. To try to clear my head of the
thoughts of Lilah and our steamy encounter, I focused on the speed and thrill
of pushing my Maserati to its limits, which demanded sheer and utter
concentration. I reached home just before six. I managed to get to my gym,
where Bryce was already waiting with a scowl on his face, just after the top of
the hour. In Bryce’s eyes, even a minute late was late. And, I paid for it.

During my post-workout shower, my phone rang.
Everything in my home was connected to a central media system, so I simply
leaned across the shower and hit the answer button. I was hoping that it would
be Lilah's voice that came through the quadrophonic speakers installed across
the bathroom, but it wasn't.

“Mr. Sinclair, it's Carlos Cerros.”

I arched an eyebrow, surprised by the fact I was
getting a call from Carlos. Carlos was the manager of an eco-tourist wildlife
sanctuary I'd set up in Costa Rica. My grandfather had always been a benevolent
man with his wealth and seeing all the good he had done, I felt it was my duty
to use at least some of my wealth for good causes, as well, such as saving
virgin rainforest and preserving endangered species. I visited every few months
when I needed to get away from city life and work.

“Hi, Carlos, how's everything down at the sanctuary?”

“We've got problems, Mr. Sinclair; big problems.”

From the tone of his voice I could tell it was
serious.

“It's been raining for two days, and the river is
rising. Things didn’t look critical until a few hours ago. Now, it's looking
like the river is going to flood the visitor's center and possibly destroy some
of the offices, probably within the next twelve to fifteen hours. Some of the
animals in rehab might drown, too. We don't have enough manpower to sandbag
everything in time and move them to higher ground as well.”

“Oh no.”

“We need help, Mr. Sinclair, and we need it
desperately. If you've got any connections here-”

“No, I can’t say that I do. But this is an emergency,
so I'm coming myself. I'll bring reinforcements with me. I'll call up some
people I know, and we'll charter a flight immediately. Hang on; Carlos, do what
you can. We'll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. We'll do everything we can
until you get here.”

I cut off the call and immediately brought up the
contacts menu on the touch screen in the shower. I knew exactly who to call,
and what to do. The only question would be whether we could get there in time.

There wasn’t a moment to waste; I had to get on this
immediately. Calling Lilah, as much as I wanted to do that, would simply have
to wait.

***

It was well after midnight when I finally got some
rest. We'd been shoveling, digging, and hauling things around in the mud all
day and night. The river had overflowed its banks, but thankfully, the floods
hadn’t been as severe as anticipated. We'd managed over the course of the
afternoon and evening to get all of the injured animals to safety and to
sandbag the buildings on the lower-lying areas to protect them against damage
from the rising waters. It had been an incredibly strenuous day, and I found
myself whispering a silent thank you to Bryce for keeping me in peak physical
condition; without my fitness and strength, I would have collapsed hours ago.

Sitting there in the aftermath, though, I was on the
verge of collapse, as were all of the other members of the team I'd brought
with me on my private jet. I had no idea how Carlos and the local workers were
still conscious. They'd been doing it since the early hours of the morning and
were still up, smiling and joking in Spanish as they mopped the sweat from
their brows and brushed the mud from their coveralls and boots.

Carlos walked up to me with two bottles of beer in his
hands. He offered me one with a grin on his face.

“
Cerveza
, Mr. Sinclair? You have earned it
today, my friend!”

“I'll take that, thanks!”

He popped the cap off and handed me the ice-cold
bottle. I wrapped my fingers around the beads of condensation. I could almost
taste the refreshment just by looking at it; it would be just the thing I
needed to knock the edge off of the jungle humidity that was combined with the
sweat from all of the physical exertion of the day.

“Salud!” exclaimed Carlos as he clinked his bottle
against mine.

“Salud!” I replied with a grin and drank a mouthful of
the cold, refreshing liquid.

“You and your team really saved the day here, Mr.
Sinclair,” Carlos said after he downed a mouthful of his beer. “We're grateful
that you came here yourself to help.”

“I wouldn't have had it any other way, Carlos. And,
don't give us all the credit; you and your team have been working since before
sunrise. You guys put in far more effort, with far less manpower, for far
longer. I think we all know who the real heroes are here.”

He smiled and drank another swig of his beer.

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I appreciate that,” he said
humbly.

“I appreciate everything you guys are doing down here.
The ownership papers of this place might be in my name, but it's you guys who
run things, who have made this place the success it is. And don't you forget
that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I'll tell the team.”

“And, tell them they can drink whatever they want
tonight: it's on me. They've earned it, many times over.”

“I'll tell them, Mr. Sinclair. Thank you.”

“Just relax and have a good time. Make sure nobody
overdoes it, though; we're going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow, on top
of what we've already done. I think my team and I will have to stay here until
Tuesday to get the cleanup operations done.”

“Should I get the staff to prepare the presidential
suite for you then, Mr. Sinclair?”

“No, don't worry about that. I'll just sleep in the
regular cabins.”

“All right. See you tomorrow, Mr. Sinclair, bright and
early.”

“See you then, Carlos.”

I watched him walk out into the darkness of the
jungle, took the last swallow of my beer, and then crawled into the nearest cot
and practically died.