Like a Boss Box Set: Like a Boss Series Books 1-4 Page 7

  Anyway, I think as he strokes both hands down my spine, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone by keeping quiet. Liam deserves to be on that trial, and Hearktech won’t lose out by having one extra person. Elen said that not everyone turns up on the day, so there’ll be plenty of devices available, and I doubt anyone will count the names on the list now it’s all organized. Sebastian is getting no-strings-attached sex, and there’ll be no distraught woman at the end of the fling begging and pleading him for more when all he wants is to make his usual escape. Who’s going to lose out from this superb deal?

  Well, apart from me, obviously. I’ll be losing out. Because I’ve already fallen for this guy, and yes, I know it’s only been three days, and yes, I knew it was all about sex, but I’m stupid and a sucker for a man who knows where to find my G-spot. And I like him. I really do. He’s handsome and funny and clever, and he designed the device that’s going to change my brother’s life. Can I help it if that makes me hotter than the thought of all his money?

  Sebastian tightens his arms and rolls me onto my back, still inside me, and then props up on his elbows and looks into my eyes. He holds my gaze, but I can’t tell if he’s wondering what I’m thinking, or if he’s concentrating on his own thoughts. I want to tell him how I’m feeling, to make everything all right, but I can’t think what to say.

  “I like you,” I announce eventually, unable to bear the silence.

  He gives a short laugh. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles. “I like you, too,” he says. Then he kisses me again, and begins to move his hips.

  For a long, long while, we stay in that position, just kissing and touching, with him giving slow thrusts. I spend ages stroking his back, exploring his muscles, skating my fingers across his tanned skin, all the way down to his butt, and enjoying the feel of the firm muscles there bunching and flexing as he moves. He does the same, stroking down to my breasts and playing with them for a while, teasing them with his mouth, before returning to kiss me again while he strokes down my thigh, pulling my knee further up around his waist. I lift them both high and lock my ankles behind his back, and he murmurs his approval, changing the angle of his hips so he’s thrusting deeper inside me.

  “Mmm…” I murmur dreamily, lifting my hands, and sinking them into his hair. Hard and fast is great, but this slow, sensual seduction is fantastic too. I could easily come if he concentrated his attention on my breasts or my clit, and we both know it, so clearly, he’s enjoying drawing this out too.

  Then, to my disappointment, he lifts up, holds the condom, and pulls out. Shit. What did I do?

  But he just circles his finger in the air, wanting me to turn over. I follow his command, accepting the pillow he pulls down for me, and placing it under my hips before rolling onto my front. He shifts between my legs, guides his erection under me, and then he’s inside me again. I shiver as he lowers down onto me, and I rest my forehead on another pillow.

  “Why the shiver?” he whispers, his breath hot on my ear. “Are you cold?

  “No. I know what’s coming,” I say back, closing my eyes.

  “You,” he says, amused, nibbling my earlobe and then kissing down my neck. “Then me, hopefully.”

  I don’t reply, because he’s moving again, and his thrusts are more forceful now. He’s done playing—now he’s getting serious, and holy hell, but if that doesn’t give me goose bumps all over.

  “What’s the matter, Colette?” He plucks at my nipple. “Don’t you like this position?”

  I’ve lost the power of speech, so I can’t answer. He’s heavy on top of me, and the notion of him being so much bigger than me, of dominating me like this, makes me bury my face in the pillow with a moan.

  He pushes my knees wider apart and slides an arm beneath my shoulders, so he’s holding me tightly while he thrusts. I’m powerless to do anything but lie there and take it. Almost.

  I take his hand from under me and bring it up to my face, and then I close my mouth over his thumb and stroke the pad with my tongue. Sebastian grunts, so I do it again, and then, finally, I suck.

  “Jesus,” he mutters, and he rips his thumb out of my mouth, lifts onto his hands, and fucks me properly. Short, hard thrusts, burying himself in me, and I gasp each time, because he’s so big that it feels as if he’s trying to spear me to the mattress. He puts a hand between my shoulder blades, pinning me there, and I close my eyes and let the orgasm come, let it rip through me, crying into the pillow with each intense contraction, and clamping around him.

  He doesn’t stop, though, he keeps thrusting, and the orgasm doesn’t stop either—I don’t know if it’s one long one or two right on top of each other, but he thrusts, and I clench, and I have no idea what I’m saying but words are leaving my mouth, and I’m squealing and panting, and then he stops and cries out, his body stiffening on top of mine. His hips jerk, and I go limp beneath him, thoroughly spent, hardly conscious of him giving slow thrusts as he comes down from his high and lowers himself back down.

  “Mm, Colette…” he mumbles, nuzzling my hair. “You’re fucking amazing.” He withdraws, but only moves a little, so he’s still hot and heavy on top of me.

  “You’re squashing me,” I whisper with the little air I have left in my lungs.

  “Don’t care.” He softens the words with a kiss on my neck and shifts an inch to the right. It doesn’t help much, but I appreciate the gesture.

  He does care. He just can’t say so.

  I get it. That was the best sex I’ve ever had, and I’m crazy about this man. But it’s all happening too fast. We should have gotten to know each other first, to go out on a date or two, before we fell into bed. I should have told him about Liam right from the start. And now it’s too late.

  I lie there in the semi-dark for a long time, feeling his hand on my back, stroking my damp skin. But I don’t say anything.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sebastian

  “It’s Thursday today,” Elen announces at the morning meeting.

  I sip my coffee, realize she’s waiting for me to say something, and raise an eyebrow. “Yeah… so?”

  “Colette only has two days left working here,” she points out.

  I glance at Harry and Caleb, who both look puzzled. Luckily, Colette’s at her desk.

  “Yeah,” I reply. “I can count up to ten. I can even count to twenty if I take my shoes and socks off.”

  Harry snorts, and Caleb gives a wry laugh. Elen tips her head to the side. “Just making sure you’re aware that you have a limited time to make a move.”

  The guys’ eyes widen. “Seb’s going to make a move on Colette?” Harry looks indignant. “I thought there was a policy around not banging the temps?”

  “He had special dispensation,” Elen says. “And besides, he’s done it already.”

  “Whoa,” Caleb says. “What?”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m guessing this topic comes under Any Other Business?”

  “You’ve already slept with her?” Harry looks amused. “That was fast.”

  I shift in my seat, uncomfortable at the observation. “Yeah, well, it was a mutual… thing. Just for fun.”

  “No it wasn’t,” Elen says. “You like her.”

  “I wouldn’t have slept with her if I didn’t like her.”

  “I mean you like her, like her.” She waggles her eyebrows.

  “This doesn’t sound like a conversation I’m remotely interested in.” I gather up my stuff. “Anything else?”

  “I know you better than that. You want more. Two days, Seb. Don’t waste it.”

  Harry opens his mouth to say something I know I’m not going to want to hear, so I turn on my heel and walk out.

  I have to pass Colette’s desk to get into my office, and I slow as I near her. I don’t need Elen to remind me that there are only two days left until Colette leaves. I’m very aware of the time I have left with her.

  Last night, she stayed in my bed for about thirty minutes before announcing that she really oug
ht to go home. Part of me was desperate to ask her to stay. But I don’t do that. So, I watched her get dressed, called her a cab, walked her to the door, and kissed her goodbye.

  Then I sat and sulked for the rest of the evening.

  I didn’t sleep well, either.

  This morning, I was grumpy and tired, but I forced myself to get up and run for an hour in the semi-darkness, surrounded by fog as I followed the river through the city. I thought it might help me run off my angst, and the sexual energy that Colette only seems to feed rather than sate.

  It didn’t work. Now I’m grumpy, tired, exhausted, and horny.

  If I’m honest, Colette doesn’t look much better. She’s still gorgeous, looking sexy in a dark gray pantsuit, but there are shadows beneath her eyes, and she’s doodling on a notepad, her expression sad.

  When I stop by her desk, though, she looks up and brightens.

  “Wow,” she says. “You look terrible. Bad night?”

  I glare at her. “Think you can make a coffee without exploding anything?”

  “No guarantee, but I’ll do my best.”

  I leave her to it, and go into my office. I have a ton of things to do—a hundred emails that have sprung up overnight, a dozen calls to make, but I can’t concentrate on anything, and I end up surfing the net and checking out the football scores while I wait for my coffee to arrive.

  When she brings it in, I sit back in my chair and watch her walk up to my desk. She places the mug before me, flashes me a smile, and turns to go.

  “Colette… Wait a minute.”

  She stops, pauses, then turns back to face me. I gesture to the seat in front of my desk, and she lowers herself down.

  We study each other for a long moment.

  “How are you this morning?” I ask her eventually.

  Her lips twitch. “Fine, thank you.”

  “You got home all right?”

  “Of course.”

  “You should have let me take you.”

  She shrugs.

  I play with my pen while I watch her. Twice now, I’ve tried to sate this hunger I feel around her, and each time it’s only made things worse. I shouldn’t go near her again. I should stay well away from her.

  “You look angry,” she says, and frowns. “Have I upset you?”

  I tip my pen over and over. “What are you doing tonight?”

  She meets my gaze. Amusement flickers on her face, but she looks away, out of the window. I study her profile, her pert nose, her pursed lips. I want to kiss her again. Elen’s right—I do want more.

  “Come to dinner with me,” I say.

  Her gaze comes back to mine, her baby-blue eyes surprised. “Dinner?”

  It’s my turn to shrug. “It would be nice to… talk for a while.”

  I expected that to make her grin, but she chews her bottom lip and studies my desk. She seems as wary as me at getting involved.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says eventually.

  “Why?”

  “I work for you.”

  “Only until Friday night,” I remind her. “Will you go out with me then?”

  She sucks her bottom lip. “I don’t think so,” she says gently. “I had a nice time last night, and I appreciate you asking me back to your apartment. But let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

  I’m puzzled. I can’t remember the last time a woman turned me down. “Is it me?”

  A smile touches her lips. “No, Sebastian. It’s not you.” She looks into my eyes for a while. Then she gets to her feet. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to work on that report you asked for.” Quietly, elegantly, she walks out of the office.

  I stay sitting back in the chair, and pick up the coffee mug she brought me. I sip it, and turn it around in my hands. I’m not angry, but I’m disappointed. Still, I have no idea why she said no. Maybe she has a boyfriend, and she slept with me on a whim, and now she feels guilty. I can’t believe she’s that sort of person, but then I know nothing about her. Maybe she is the kind who cheats—perhaps that’s why she gave me a weird look when she asked me if I had a wife or a girlfriend.

  Well, she said no, so I’m going to have to deal with that and move on.

  I glower at the screen. I’m not great at moving on. I tend to get what I want, and I don’t like this feeling of being denied.

  Colette has proven she’s easily affected by my presence. And it’s only Thursday morning. I’ve plenty of time yet.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Colette

  Sebastian’s busy for most of the day in meetings, which is kind of a relief and kind of a disappointment all tied in a nice prickly bow. I spend my time struggling with the report, with half an eye on his door, constantly cursing myself for paying him too much attention.

  I’m stunned that he asked me to dinner. I don’t have to be told that this is unusual for him. I’m sure picking up girls in the occasional nightclub and whisking them off to a hotel is more his modus operandi, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he hasn’t dated in the traditional sense for years.

  And I’m miserable that I can’t agree. I want to, but I can’t. I spent most of last night making that decision. I walked away from his apartment feeling lower than I’ve felt for a long time, and knowing it was time I decided what was more important to me. A two-day-old relationship? No, let’s be honest—a two-day-old fuck-fest that had very little hope of turning into anything remotely like the roses-around-the-door type marriage little girls dream about? Or getting my brother on the trial, which I just know is going to make a huge impact on his life?

  My lady parts scream fuck-fest! But my heart knows there’s no contest. Liam will always come first, and although Sebastian has affected me like no other man has ever done, I’m not willing to throw away my brother’s happiness for a minute chance that this man will be interested in anything other than getting in my panties one more time.

  Just before lunch, I hear him state to Caleb that he’s heading across town for a meeting with some investors and probably won’t be back before the end of the day. I nip into the Ladies’ so I won’t have to say goodbye to him, and by the time I come out, he’s gone. It’s a relief, to be frank, and I manage to spend the rest of the afternoon working without the constant distraction of wondering if he’s going to walk past my desk with what I’m sure is a secret x-ray gaze that can see through my clothing.

  At five o’clock, I grab my purse and scurry to the elevator. I ignore the dull throb of disappointment, and tell myself I’m relieved I haven’t seen him. One more day to go, and then it’ll all be over. Maybe I’ll even phone in sick.

  The elevator door slides open—and there he is, hands in his pockets, his briefcase under his arm. I gasp, audibly, and will myself not to pass out. He puts out a hand to hold open the door while a couple of people walk past him, then waits.

  “Going down?” he asks innocently.

  I give him a wry look and walk into the carriage. My heart’s hammering, but I attempt a sassy toss of my hair. He presses the button for the basement, and the doors close.

  “I want the ground floor,” I tell him.

  “My car’s in the basement,” he advises.

  “So?”

  He just fixes me with that stare, and all the words drain away like water through a sieve.

  “I’m going home,” I announce, but my voice sounds weak, even to me.

  He leans against the wall and tips his head to the side. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks softly.

  “You haven’t been in all day,” I point out.

  “Hmm.” It’s a fact he can’t deny, but he doesn’t look convinced.

  “I finished the report.” I’m proud of that. Not everyone can type a twenty-page document in one afternoon using only two fingers. I don’t add that sitting there listening to his deep, silky voice on the dictation machine was enough to reduce me to a pile of mush for the whole afternoon.

  “Thank you.” There’s laughter in his eyes.<
br />
  “Are you mocking me?” I demand.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Now he’s definitely smiling, though. “I’m glad you came to work here.”

  I look at my feet. I can’t echo his words. I wish I’d never come here, because I know I’m going to regret giving him up for the rest of my life.

  “Come home with me,” he says. “If you won’t come to dinner with me, come to my apartment. I’ll cook us something. Or not, whatever.”

  I lift my gaze to his, surprised. “You cook?”

  “I’m not a complete Neanderthal. I don’t do four course meals or anything, but I can shove some pasta in a saucepan the same as the next guy.”

  I chew my lip. He’s smiling again. He’s trying to win me over, to show me that it’s going to be fun. I don’t want fun. Well, I do, but not like this. I don’t want to spend time talking, because then I might blurt out about Liam, and I don’t want this to end on a bad note. I want to slip away tomorrow once I’ve put Liam’s name on the list, and place this memory into a compartment in my brain, somewhere safe and locked away, so I can take it out and examine it in the quiet and the dark whenever I want.

  “Please?” Sebastian says. “I’d rather not beg. But I will if I have to.”

  My jaw drops. His smile has faded, and he raises an eyebrow as if he’s serious.

  “I have things to do,” I protest weakly. “Shopping, and ironing…”

  His expression turns exasperated. “Well, I didn’t realize you were that busy…”

  “Sebastian…”

  The elevator pings and opens. He takes my hand and pulls me out, then turns me deftly around and pins me to the wall. I place my hands on his chest to push him away, but it’s like trying to push a truck, and he just ignores me.

  “Tell me,” he says, one hand on my hip, his mouth only inches from mine. “Tell me how, Colette.”

  “How, what?”

  “How to convince you that I want you. Like this?” He moves even closer, and then I can feel the evidence pressing against my belly, long and hard. I almost whimper.

  I moisten my lips. “I shouldn’t…”