All Chapters of Before He Was My Boss.: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

I couldn’t stop thinking about her.That was the honest truth of it — the thing I’d been turning over since she walked into my office that morning in that skirt and that blouse that had a clear and personal vendetta against my composure. Every time I closed my eyes her taste came back. The salt and warmth of her, the way she shook above me when the orgasm tore through her, her fingers pulling at my hair like she was trying to hold onto something solid while everything else fell apart.I did that to her.That thought kept arriving and I kept letting it.I remembered the sounds she made — the way my name spilled from her mouth like it had been living there the whole time, waiting for the right moment to pour out. The way her hips ground against my tongue in those small, helpless circles that told me exactly how close she was before she said a single word. I remembered the tight, slick pull of her pussy around my fingers and how I had to remind myself to breathe like a functional person.

“Gosh, my wrist.” I whimpered the words before I could stop them, pulling my hand close to my chest without touching it. Rand’s grip had been brutal, unforgiving, strong, wrapped tight like he was trying to break the bone itself. I hadn’t been able to pull away from it. Hadn’t been able to breathe past the pain of it. Even now, with him gone, I could still feel the ghost of his fingers — and when I looked down, the evidence was right there on my skin. Red marks that had slightly turned purple, and the prints of his huge fingers.I lowered myself back toward the seat but a hand caught my arm before I could settle.“Give me your arm.” He ordered, leaving no space for arguments, just the instruction, firm and direct. I straightened back up and let him look.He turned my arm over carefully, then back. His fingers grazed the red marks where Rand’s had been, tracing the outline of them with a lightness that didn’t match the tension his jaw, which was clenched so tight I thought he might cra

The door clicked softly behind me. Addison was sprawled on the couch with that unnecessarily enormous bowl of popcorn balanced on her stomach, some sitcom playing on the screen with the volume too loud for the size of the room. She looked up the moment I walked in, the way she always did, like some part of her had been listening for the sound of my key. She hit pause button and walked over to me. She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me — really looked, the type that moved past the mask to found whatever was hiding behind it. Her eyes dropped to my wrist. Then came back to my face. Something hurt flickered across her expression, brief and genuine, and then she was already reaching for my bag, pulling it off my shoulder, and pulling me into a hug before I’d even said a single word. For that short, eternal moment, I could finally breathe. I let myself melt into her warmth, my breathing slowing to match hers, the ache in my chest beginning to loosen by seconds. I hadn’t

The moment I walked through the door, his hand caught my wrist and pulled me back until I crashed against him.His scent hit me first — warm and familiar. Then his warmth, wrapped around me completely, and my memory went blank. The whole office went silent. The only thing that existed and was loud was my own heartbeat, slamming against my ribs in raw, embarrassing excitement.A whimper escaped my lips before I could catch it.I let my body melt into his, his hand steady on my waist, and the words coiled painfully in my chest, pressing upward, trying to find their way out. I had to bite my lip to hold them back—I missed you.Even that felt like an understatement. It wasn't just missing — it was something that had settled deeper than just mere need, deeper than the ache my body had been carrying since the hotel. His scent had lingered in my sleep. The ghost of his fingers still tickled along my skin at odd, inconvenient moments. I didn't think I could ever get enough of him. I'd keep hi

He made me stand between his legs, staring up at me from his seat, his hands mapping my legs slowly — sliding between my inner thighs, teasing just slightly below where I ached for him most.My knees went weak. Anger still burned in my chest, but my body betrayed me at every single turn, the way it always did when he touched me.“You could have just asked.” He said it easily, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Rather than whine like a little girl.”An annoyed scoff left my mouth before I could stop it. My eyes rolled on their own. “Yeah, right.”“Kneel,” his voice was low. Rough. Hoarse underneath, like it had been pulled from somewhere deeper than his throat.I lowered myself to the floor, adjusting my weight across both knees. His hand caught my chin immediately, tilting it upward until my eyes had no choice but to find his.They had gone dark. A wicked, small smile tugged at the corner of his lips — so small I almost convinced myself I’d imagined it. “Why don’t you