Page 41 of Grumpy Boss of the Year

“In business.” He grins. “And maybe all things.”

“That’s a sad way to live.” I turn away from him before he can answer and walk to the kitchen area. It’s small but clean, with light butcher block countertops. There’s an open box of cereal on the countertop, and I look at him in surprise. “Frosted?—.”

“Don’t even say it.” He grins. “I’m still a kid at heart.”

“I can see that.” I look back over at the throw pillows and make a face.

“My niece, Harriet, chose them.” He walks over to the couch and takes a seat. “She wanted me to have something in my home that made me remember her.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Does she live here, then?”

“She’s back in London with my sister, Daisy. I think they’d love to live in New York in theory, but in reality, I’m not sure how they’d fare. I did promise to take them to Disney and Universal, though.”

“Don’t forget to add The Watermelon Hole to your itinerary,” I say as I stand next to the couch, and he grins up at my joke. “So, am I going to see the infamous bedroom?”

“I didn’t realize it was so infamous.” He jumps up quickly, and I stumble back in surprise. “Not that many ladies have seen it.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to him. “And certainly none have pleasured themselves on it.”

“That must be a blow to the ego,” I say lightly, trying not to let my nerves get to me.

“I didn’t say they hadn’t been pleasured.” He grins. “There is a distinct difference, you know.”

“So you’re saying you’ve fucked numerous women on your bed.” I wrinkle my nose. “Are the sheets clean?”

“That’s not what I said, and yes.” He pulls me along a small corridor and pushes open a door. My eyes widen as I see how luscious his bedroom is. It is an absolute departure from the rest of his apartment. It's much larger than I expected it to be, and the king-sized bed stands proudly in the middle of the room. The pillowcases are purple silk, and the sheets are crisp and white and luxurious. There's a large cowhide rug on the floor next to the bed and a cool nightstand with a record player on it. There is a stack of about fifteen records next to the player, and I walk over to see what kind of music Liam likes to listen to.

"Frank Sinatra, Marvin Gaye, Guns ‘n Roses, Pet Shop Boys..." Liam starts as I pick up the first record and turn to him with a small smile.

"I didn't take you for a music man."

"Oh, yes. I have Billy Joel, Billy Idol, and Elton John, as well."

"A man with impeccable taste," I tease and look down to see the latest record he was listening to. "Taylor Swift?" I stare at him in surprise. "I didn't take you for a Swiftie."

"I'm not." He mock shudders, and I laugh. "I have a niece, remember. And she likes for us to sing together on the phone." He makes a sad face. "And before you ask, no, I can't sing, and I’m not going to apply to be onAmerican IdolorThe Voiceor whatever other shows they have going now.”

“Pity. I was quite hoping to hear I was in the apartment of the next John Mayer.”

“Oh, really?" He takes a step toward me, and I swallow hard as he looks down into my eyes with a warm smile. "And why is that?"

"I'll give you one guess."

"Because your body is a wonderland?" He licks his lips. "Or is it something else?"

"You think you were so smooth with that, don't you?" I giggle and run my fingers through my hair. "But I'll have you know my favorite song of his is ‘Gravity.’"

"I don't think I know it."

"What?" I stare at him in shock. "How do you not know it? It's the only reason I haven't deleted him from my Spotify and iTunes accounts."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say he's canceled in my eyes, and no, I'm not going to say more." I take a step toward him. "Right now, I just want to think of pleasant things." I press my hand to his chest, and I'm pleased to feel that his heart is racing just as much as mine is.

"What pleasant things would you like to think of?"

"Maybe things like this..." I press my lips to his neck and bite down slowly. His skin is warm, salty, and pleasing to the touch. I want to breathe him in as I kiss up to his chin. I enjoy the feel of his eyes on me. I know he's wondering if he's going to get lucky or if I've changed my mind. If today is going to be another one in the books for him. I slide my right hand down to the front of his pants and squeeze. He's hard. I squeeze a little bit harder,and his cock twitches. I shift slightly. He feels thick. I swallow and run my fingers to his arms again. He's silent as he waits to see what I'm going to do next. I squeeze his biceps, and he flexes them so that they are a source of hard muscle.

"I fight sometimes," he says, even though I never asked him a question. "I lift a lot of weights."

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