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Lovin' My Boss
Lovin' My Boss
Lovin' My Boss
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Lovin' My Boss

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I want you to get on your knees.

“I’m not sucking it,” I say. Defiant.

“I didn’t ask you to. I’m satisfied with this, for now. On your knees. Between my legs, like that.”

I get down, between his knees. His hand strokes the big c*ck in front of me, so close that I can almost taste it. I don’t realize that I’m staring until I hear his voice above me.

“See something you like?”

What if you told your friend that you'd love to get your hands on your boss's meat?

Now what if you sent the text to the wrong number? The most wrong number you could possibly send it to?

And what if he told you to come into his office?

This hot novel is all about power plays, sexy billionaires, marriage contracts, and babies. There are NO CLIFFHANGERS and a guaranteed HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

What would you do?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 15, 2017
ISBN9781370217854
Lovin' My Boss

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    Book preview

    Lovin' My Boss - Miss Brandy K

    Lovin’ My Boss

    Urban Romance

    Miss Brandy K

    Published by Heartthrob Publishing

    If you want news about new novel releases, you can sign up for my mailing list here: http://eepurl.com/cmQY05

    Smashwords License Statement

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite ebook retailer to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Here’s a preview of the hot interracial story you’re about to read…

    How about something else, then?

    What were you thinking about?

    I was thinking how much I’d like it if you sucked my cock.

    I can see her expression shift. I don’t know how much she’s really opposed to it, but I know one thing. She’s not exactly super keen on it, either. Well, she’s going to have to get over that at some point, because I’m not going to give up on my money. I worked damn hard to get to where I am, and I’m not going to have it all taken away from me because I didn’t knock some woman up in time.

    To my surprise, though, she doesn’t exactly seem to shy away from the notion.

    Is that all you wanted?

    It’s what I’m willing to accept, at least, I say. No use in lying to her. Up to this point, the relationship has been transactional. If that’s what it’s going to be then that’s what it’s going to be, there’s no use in beating myself up about it, or lying to her about what I want from her. It’s easier if I just let her know what I expect, and let her try to figure out how to meet those requirements.

    And that’s all?

    I mean, if you want to fuck, I’m more than willing.

    She wipes her mouth and takes a drink from the open wine bottle in front of her, without bothering to refill her glass first.

    Alright, she says finally. But just a blowjob, and only tonight.

    Is there anything you wanted?

    More than anything? I just want you to leave it alone.

    Alright. You can have at least one night to yourself, if that’s it.

    If that’s the best I can get, she says.

    I’m not going to stop trying to get my inheritance. Don’t forget, you’re losing out on your money, too.

    Niara’s expression sours even as she starts to drop to her knees in front of my chair. I haven’t forgotten.

    Then why not?

    She looks up at me with a scowl. Because I’m not going to be your whore, that’s why.

    If you want news about new novel releases, you can sign up for my mailing list here: http://eepurl.com/cmQY05

    One

    Jasper

    I don’t know what, precisely, was going through anyone’s head when I got the text. I know what was going through mine. I was watching the stocks rise and fall. I had a floor of 10.50, and a high of 12.00 for one long second.

    It was like that most days. A dollar here or there, and a controlling two-thirds of the stocks mine. I could have gotten rid of some here or there, and probably made very reasonable money. Today, I was waiting on a call.

    There was other work to do, but none of it urgent. Very little of it truly important, either. The only urgent thing was the call, and that was a hurry-up-and-wait situation.

    So I hurried up, and I waited. There was a noise from the desk, where I’d left the phone. Time for the call, I supposed. I watched the stocks on my computer screen make a big spike, almost to $11.55. If I could sell at $11.55, and buy back at $10.50, I’d make almost a dollar in profit per sale.

    But I can’t afford to take the risk. It’d be just as likely that I would miss the window, and make little or nothing at all. I pull the phone up, my thumb already moving to hit the answer button, but there’s no call. I must have made a mistake, except for the blue light beeping in the corner.

    It’s not a red light. Not a missed call. So at least there’s that. I touch my thumb to the button, and the screen immediately flicks on and reads my fingerprint, and unlocks itself. An array of notifications across the top. Several games want me to know that they’re waiting for me, so that they can feed me a steady diet of advertisements while I play.

    Luckily, for me at least, I may own this place, and I may run it, but I don’t let that screw me up. So I ignore those. Swipe down, and swipe right. Swipe right. Swipe right. The games are forgotten, at least temporarily. But there’s one thing that I ought to pay some attention to, at least.

    Niara was supposed to be here ten minutes ago with a cup of coffee for me, and the notes for my meeting. But apparently, she didn’t have my scruples about not playing games at work, or something, because she’d never shown up. I click the notification and the messenger pops up.

    I know! He’s such an ass.

    I don’t know who she’s talking about, but I’ve got two options in front of me, as far as I can see. I can pretend that I know exactly who she’s talking about and have an interesting if slightly illicit conversation with my secretary, under the guise of being whoever she meant to send that text to, or I can blow my cover and we both walk away without the intention of ever mentioning it again.

    Then again, I always loved gossip.

    I type back quickly. ‘Yeah, but isn’t he hot?’

    If they’re talking about Michael, who I personally know to be an ass, then maybe. I guess it would be a matter of perspective. But then, there are several assholes in this place I wouldn’t call hot. I don’t think that even a woman with low standards would call Dwayne, for example, hot. But hey. To each their own, right?

    My phone buzzes. I read the incoming message with a perhaps slightly inappropriate amount of interest. ‘Oh God, that just makes it worse. I’d suck him off for the time of day if he wasn’t always telling me to go get him fucking coffee like I’m some intern!’

    My heart thumped hard. Oh. Interesting. I try to think of something more interesting. Something witty. But all I can think is oh.

    I start to work my thumbs. ‘That’s nuts. God, what I wouldn’t do to him.’ It’s not totally a lie. I’ve done quite a few things to myself, when there was nobody else around to do them for me.

    I set the phone down and try to get the adrenaline to stop surging through me. It’s not every day that you pretend to be someone else in a conversation meant to be about you. It’s not every day that your secretary practically offers to suck your cock, either.

    I can already feel the cogs turning in my head. I set the phone down. An instant later it buzzes again, and I unlock it automatically, ready to see what she’s said. What else I can leverage against her. The caller ID that shows that I’m being added to the quarterly conference call isn’t what I wanted. But it’s necessary,

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