Page 32 of Jealous Boss

I want to shout that yes, she can drop to her knees right now and fix everything with a couple of hard pumps of her soft hand. Maybe a suck or two between those red lips. That’s all it would take to?—

“I can make new copies for you if you like.”

I nod dumbly, her scent and touch making me lose what little there is of my brainpower.

“You’re going to have to let go, Ethan,” she says with the cutest little smile.

I release my hold on the file but don’t move my hand.

She’s touching me and I enjoy her hand on mine a little too much. With another dimpled smile, she maneuvers the file from under my hand and hugs it to her chest. “I’ll get it done right away.”

“Thanks,” I manage.

She nods and hurries to the door.

My eyes fall to her butt. The butt she’s been talking about having spanked.

Fuck, it’s so juicy. It bounces beneath her light cotton dress and I drop my hand to my crotch to squeeze my desperate dick.

I manage to shift my gaze a nanosecond before she turns around, still hugging my file to her chest.

“Can we finish talking about it later, when we get home maybe?”

I open my mouth to tell her there will be no more discussion about getting spanked. But this sweet girl is feverishly curious. If she doesn’t get the information she needs from me, she might resort to other means.

Ask other men.

And Iwillburn the whole fucking world down before I let that happen. So…

“Sure, Pia. We’ll talk some more tonight,” I reply, already terrified at my impending torment.

Both dimples swing into view again and I stifle a groan. “Thanks, Ethan. You’re the best.”

Christ, I’m not. I’m most definitely not.

Because I spend the next two hours imagining the thousand different ways I spank Pia’s ass while calling her my cum-slut. Or any of the filthy words that rush readily to my lips every time I think about her.

Which is every other second.

She’s my intern. She’s here to learn.

Sure, that isn’t meant to include sex education, but it’s evident she’s so deplorably lacking in that area, I want to track down her teachers in that fancy school she was cloistered in and give them a very big piece of my mind.

But it’s okay. She has me now.

Nevertheless, I shudder through what is ahead of me when we get home.

The thought is both terrifying and reassuring.

Resolute, I pick up my briefcase at six-thirty.

My strong work ethic is well-established enough for me not to get any raised eyebrows about leaving this early. And really, I’ll get more done from home between now and tomorrow morning than every last one of my staff.

Still, I don’t miss the surprised looks when I stop in front of Pia’s tiny cubicle in the large open-plan area where the interns sit with the first-years and paralegals.

While I wait for her to gather her things, I do a headcount on the male-to-female ratio, and by the time I hit twenty-five males of the former and just nine of the latter, my anger is rising again.

Not only is there a glaring bias in the male-to-female ratios, my sweet, innocent Pia is working in a seething pool of testosterone, most of whom follow her with their eyes when she stands and walks toward me.

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