Page 2 of Rude Boss' Secret Baby
She peeked over at me. “Hello there.”
I grinned. “Out of all the things I thought you were wearing beneath the bar, a pencil skirt wasn’t what came to mind. Long day at work?”
She snickered. “You could say that, yeah.”
I leaned against the small back of the barstool and held out my hand. “I’m Trey.”
She shook my hand softly but with confidence. “Leslie.”
“It’s very nice to meet such a lovely woman after the day I’ve had.”
She snickered. “Rough day for you, too?”
I winked at her. “You could say that, yeah.”
She blushed, and I wanted to know what that color looked like over the rest of her body.
“So, are we going to mutually talk about our terrible days? Or, are we going to act like they didn’t exist and talk about anything else?”
She licked her lips. “You know, I’m kind of a fan of the third option.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “And which option is that?”
She leaned in close, and I smelled her candy-laced body spray as it wafted up my nose. “The option where neither of us speaks at all.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She turned back to her drink and sipped on it, but I saw her stealing little glances at me. I kept myself turned toward her as I chugged back my drink, waiting patiently as her own dash of liquid courage seeped slowly into her stomach. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into her excess. I couldn’t wait to coat my dick between her luscious thighs.
Then, after she finished her drink, she swiveled herself toward me. “So, Trey. Tell me the worst highlight of your day.”
I chuckled. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about our days?”
“That’s when I wasn’t buzzed. Now, I have my God-given right to bitch if I so choose.”
I smirked. “Very well. Care to do the bitching in my car? My place is only fifteen minutes from here.”
She winked at me. “Ever heard of taking your time?”
“Foreplay. I like it. All right, I’ll bite. The worst highlight from my entire day was having to fire two of my interns because I caught them getting it on while clocked in.”
She giggled. “I suppose that isn’t that bad.”
“This wasn’t the first time they’d been caught.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay, I can see how that—”
I cleared my throat. “They were in my office when I came back from lunch.”
She almost choked on a piece of ice she was chewing. “Holy shit.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, you’re telling me. I had my entire damn place cleaned down, which put me working in the conference room of all places. That then spiraled into people believing I was free to talk since I wasn’t in my office, so from the time I caught two of my interns hooking up against my desk until the time I finally clocked out, I got only half the work done that I needed to because ‘office with the door closed’ means ‘no,’ and apparently ‘conference room with the door closed’ means ‘open the floodgates.’”
She threw her head back in laughter, and the sound washed over me like warm syrup over a stack of pancakes. With her neck exposed, I could almost taste the sweetness of her skin against my teeth, if that were even a thing. This woman had a pull on me that I couldn’t resist a second longer. I needed to get her back to my place. I needed to hear her choking when she got off as she tried to remember my name.
“So,” I said as I scooted a little closer to her, “what do you say you give me the worst highlight of your day while we swing by a drive-thru and get some french fries? We can share a large or something on the way back to my place. Then, maybe I could have my chef cook us up a midnight snack. You know, after we’ve made room for it.”
Her eyes swept down my body before her gaze came crawling back up to mine, and I knew I had her. That line always worked, especially when I dropped the fact that I had an in-house chef. I had a lot of things at my disposal that most people didn’t: a chef, a butler, a doctor I could call at a moment’s notice, groundskeepers who kept my estate painstakingly tailored from front to back, a maid staff that came and went as they pleased twenty-four-seven. I knew something was bound to catch her eye.
