Page 5 of Big & Bossy

“Fine.”

I hung up the phone as I stepped through the cheap sliding doors of the building. Boulder didn’t allow for high-rises, so our hired office was on the fourth floor. The bottom floor, though, had a cafe.

And I was going to make use of it.

————

“Good morning, Angela,” I grinned as I plopped a hazelnut latte onto the front of her desk. “You will, of course, still receive a bonus. Consider this an extra thank you.”

Angela wrapped her fingers around its warmth, her lips curled back in a sneer. “This smells like hazelnut. I don’t like hazelnut.”

“You did last month.”

“I changed my mind. I like vanilla bean, now.”

I narrowed my eyes at her before rolling them as dramatically as I could. “You just love being difficult, don’t you?”

“Not as much as you do.”

So lucky you still have a job. “Is Mandy in my office as I requested?” I asked, bracing myself with my hand on her desk. “Or did you conveniently forget?”

“No, she’s in there.” Her nonchalant tone made the semi-relief I felt from Mandy being nearby shrink. “Have fun.”

“Thank you.” I clutched my black Americano in my hand as I stepped away from her desk, heading back toward what passed as a private office in this drab, horrible building.

My heart quickened its pace with every step I took, nearly doubling when I saw a shadow move behind the closed blinds of my office window.

I quieted my footsteps, taking my time, not wanting to set off immediate alarm bells for her. The handle of my briefcase felt heavy in my hand, as if the weight of the world was resting in my palm. In a way, it was.

The woman I’d loved, the woman I’d hurt in the worst possible way stood on the other side of that door, waiting for me.

Sure, it was only because I’d threatened her, but something in my gut knew she would have come either way. I knew a part of her was excited to see me too.

I hoped.

Fingers shaking and breaths coming too fast, I turned the handle.

Five foot five, slender in the way an athlete would be, chestnut brown, curly hair hanging low around her shoulders. All things I absolutely should have noticed first, things a normal, sane man would have noticed first.

No, my eyes went directly to her bare torso, her flawless, exposed skin from the waist up covered only by a thin bralette.

Why is she in my office wearing only a bra?

Where the fuck is her blouse?

How do I hide my cock coming to life in my pants?

She hadn’t heard me come in.

Unsure of what to do or say, I cleared my throat to get her attention, her surprised shriek nearly making me jump. In one swift motion she turned, and right away I noticed her white blouse clutched between her fingers, covered in what looked like coffee.

Her eyes were wide as saucers, locked on mine in a state of fight or flight. Even through the obvious mortification oozing from her that she so desperately tried to hide, she looked as beautiful as she did ten years ago. More so, even, and considering the state of her appearance, I had to keep myself from thinking with my cock for once.

I turned my gaze from her as soon as our eyes met. I didn’t want her thinking I was a creep and an asshole all wrapped in one although I was certain she already did.

Closing the door behind me, I dropped my briefcase onto the floor. Without letting myself think too hard or too quickly about it, I shrugged my suit jacket from my shoulders, popped off my cuff links, and loosened my tie.

“What the fuck do you think?—”

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