Page 79 of Grumpy Boss of the Year

Elisabetta came from money and was used to the finer things in life. I didn’t want her to think that I thought my money made me better than anyone else. Especially since I was privy to thefact that her father was struggling financially. I knew that she knew that now, and I also knew that she didn't know the ins and outs like I did. But I wasn’t going to think about that now.

“Ooh...” she mumbles in a high-pitched tone as she twitches in her seat, and I smile to myself at how vocal she is in her reactions. The sound of her purrs and whimpers under the touch of my fingers makes me hard, and I wonder what she would do if she knew just how involved in her family situation I really was.

A feeling of dread weighs on my shoulders. It isn't my fault that her father is broke or that he’s made bad business investments, but I am capitalizing on his misfortune now. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about that. If I were taken to a court of law, the judge would definitely decide against me. I knew that Elisabetta would also decide against me if she were to decide my fate, but that is something I choose not to think about.

I don’t live well with guilt.

I reason with myself that she knows as well as I do that life is a game of chess or poker. Every step we take and every decision we make is a gamble. Even right now, as she purrs in happiness, the situation between us is still like a card game in flux. Her queen is going up against my king, and we are both hoping for the best outcome. We both want to come out on top.

We both want the other to capitulate.

However, I know what she doesn’t. That there is no way I can lose.

I have a stacked hand of aces.

"Oh my gosh," she whispers as my finger slides deep inside of her. I wish it was something else, but I can't dwell on that right now. "Liam, oh my gosh!" she moans as I continue to finger her, my thumb flicking against her clit. She's wet, and I can tell by the quickening of her walls that she's going to come soon. "Oh my gosh, Liam, you need to stop," she cries out. "This is?—"

"Keep going," I say, softly whispering in her ear. Her eyes fly open, and she looks at me, dazed and confused and completely and utterly in bliss. "You're nearly there, Elisabetta," I say, kissing the side of her face. "Come for me."

And then, just as I knew she would, I feel her pussy lips tighten on my fingers, and then she lets out a loud moan as she orgasms, her entire body shaking, the wetness seeping down my fingers. My thumb rubs against her clit faster and faster, and she moans yet again, and finally, her body stills.

I pull my fingers out of her slowly. She looks at me. "You wanna watch me?" I ask her. Her look turns to one of confusion, and I just grin as I pull my hand out from under the blanket and raise my fingers to my lips. I suck them, loving the taste of her. Her jaw drops slightly.

"I want you to taste me," I say to her. "Don't you want that?"

"I'm not gonna give you a blowjob on a plane where anyone could see." She shakes her head, looking at me in awe as I continue to suck her juices.

"Maybe not now, but maybe on the plane ride back?" I ask her, and she just rolls her eyes.

"I'm not looking to get arrested for public?—"

"Public what?" I say, hoping she’s going to admit what we both want.

"Public indecency." She grins at me. "You might not mind if you get arrested because you have plenty of money, but I find myself in a precarious situation where I no longer have the sort of money that I thought I did."

"You have my paycheck."

"And how much are you paying me a year?" she asks, not looking impressed. I don’t know how she can look so demure and stunning at the same time.

I chuckle. "I think it's about $75,000."

"Exactly. I used to live off of $75,000 every three months.” She scoffs. “$75,000 is not enough to keep me in the lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to.” She looks down at my Rolex watch and makes a face as if to say,And it wouldn’t be enough for you either.

"Really?" I ask her in surprise.

"Yeah, my dad used to give me twenty-five grand a month." She shrugs as my eyes widen. "And now I'm wishing I’d saved more of it."

"How much do you have saved?" I ask her, curious if she’s been investing in the stock market. With an average 8 percent rate of return, she could be sitting on a tidy sum of money.

"You don't even wanna know."

"A couple hundred grand?"

She stares at me blankly, a wry smile on her face. "Not even close."

"A couple of million?"

She bursts out laughing then. "Would I be agreeing to marry some random-ass man who's probably old enough to be my granddad if I had a million dollars?"

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