My Bastard Boss Wants Me In His Bed

~~ETHEL~~

“You stupid bitch!”

I held my phone away from my ear to protect it from the loud insults coming through the speaker.

God, I didn’t sign up for this.

When I got hired as the Personal Assistant of Keanu Martell one year ago, I didn’t expect delivering break-up souvenirs to become part of my job description.

And yet today, Mr. Martell had asked me to deliver yet another box of chocolate and a card that simply read: ‘I enjoyed our time together, but it has to come and end here.’ Signed Keanu.

This was the fourth woman this year I’d delivered a break-up souvenir to, and now she was trying to blow my ears off.

“Hello?” Nicky’s voice boomed through the speakers again.

Counting to three, I finally spoke, keeping the phone a safe distance from my ear. “Hello, Miss Curry. I assume you got the card?”

“You know damn well I got it!” Her voice pitched so high only dogs could probably hear the upper registers. “How dare you send me that stupid card?”

I leaned back in my chair, glancing at Mr. Martell’s closed office door. He wasn’t in there because he’d stepped out with the CMO a couple of minutes ago.

“I sent it on Mr. Martell’s orders. If you have a problem with the message, you should take it up with him.”

“Bullshit! I know what you’re doing. I see the way you look at him.”

I sighed. Here we go.

“Nicky—”

“You think I’m stupid? You want him for yourself. You’re trying to get rid of me so you can fuck your way into his bed, you desperate little—”

“Careful.” I cut her off very coldly. “Not everyone is as desperate as you, Nicky. I have a boyfriend in an ACTUAL relationship. And even if I didn’t, I’d never sleep with a man like Keanu Martell. I’d rather stay single.”

So what if Keanu Martell was one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen, with his perfectly contoured face, his electric cyan eyes, and muscles that rippled with every movement he made?

Even if I didn’t have Max, it would be stupid of me to have any interest in him when I’d witnessed four different women having their hopes crushed by him.

“You’re a liar,” Nicky hissed. “I bet you’re fucking him right now—”

“I’m hanging up. Have a nice day, Nicky.”

I ended the call and set the phone face-down on my desk. I was so done with the same accusations over and over. It was honestly tiring. Thirty seconds later, it rang again. Same number. I declined it and blocked the number.

“Trouble?”

A familiar deep voice nearly made me jump out of my seat. I turned my head to the side, and there he stood.

Keanu Martell wore a grey tailored one-piece suit that fitted perfectly to his body. He was watching me from the entrance of the hallway leading into my desk space, holding a cup of coffee.

Oh shit. How long had he been standing there?

Keanu slowly crossed over to my desk, standing in front of it and gazing down at me. “Was that Nicky?”

“Uh, yeah.” I cleared my throat. “She called me about the...package you had me send.”

“And she took it well, I assume?” Amusement flickered in his eyes.

“She called me some very colorful words, and she thinks I’m lying about you wanting to end things with her.”

A muscle in his sharp jaw ticked. “I’m going to have to talk to her. She should know better than to disrespect my employees.” Then his head tilted. “What did you tell her?”

My face heated. Had he heard what I said? “I told her to take it up with you.”

“Mmm.” He set his coffee on my desk, then leaned down, bracing his hands on the desk. He was still a good distance from me, but the cedar fragrance of his cologne assaulted my senses. “That’s not all you said though, is it?”

My heart hammered. “I don’t know what you—”

“You’d rather stay single than sleep with a man like me.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous timbre that made my stomach flip. “That’s what you said, isn’t it, Ethel? Only desperate women allow me to fuck them.”

I swallowed hard. “I was just trying to get her off the phone.”

“Were you?” He studied my face, his cyan eyes boring into me. “Or did you mean it?”

“I—”

“Careful, Ethel. Because that sounds like a challenge to me.” His lips curved into a smirk. “And I love challenges.”

Before I could say anything, he straightened, pulling his warmth and his scent away. Then he picked up his cup. “Hold my calls for the next hour. I have work to do.”

He walked into his office and closed the door, and I sat frozen at my desk, my pulse suddenly racing.

“I love challenges.”

What the hell did that even mean?