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What could be worse than catching your creepy boss in an inappropriate position? Hearing him say your name.

Bailey

This day couldn't get any worse.

I just saw my boss Mr. Dent's extremely unimpressive... dent.  A night of drinking with my best friend is exactly what I need. Hunter is always there for me. The perfect Mr. Nice Guy.

Hunter

This day couldn't get any better.

Finally I get my chance to show my best friend that I’m also the best guy for her. I just saw Bailey’s perfect curves soaped up in the shower and all my dreams are coming true. Until she won't return my calls the next day.

Bailey wants to pretend none of it happened but I just need one chance to prove our attraction is real. I’m finally going to show her that I’m not that...nice.

Excerpt of WICKED © July 2018 M. Malone and Nana Malone

Bailey

I smiled to myself as yet another text came through.

Hunter: Get your ass down here now

It was Friday night and the rest of the office had already knocked off to go down to Happy’s, the bar right down the street from our building. It was our favorite spot for happy hour, thanks to the cheap drinks and terrible music. I’d be right there with them if I hadn’t gotten so behind on my work today.

Or if my asshole boss hadn’t dumped project busy work on me just a few hours ago. I wasn't even assigned to any of these projects specifically. Who did that?

Hunter: Charles from Legal is on the bar dancing. I think he’s trying to twerk.

I snorted at the mental image of the older man trying to shake his ass. Our firm was a pretty conservative place and when I’d first started interning here, I’d been really intimidated. Everyone seemed so busy and professional, like they all had their shit together, while I was just trying to figure out what I wanted to do after college. But this was my second summer interning with the company and after a few Friday nights hanging out with the office crew, I’d discovered that even the most conservative types had a wild side.

Not that I wanted to picture the nice older man who always helped me with legal questions trying to gyrate his nonexistent ass. I giggled at just the thought.

Hunter: Seriously, where the hell are you?

Fed up, I finally responded. Damn, he could be such a drama king sometimes.

Me: Trying to finish all this work Mr. D gave me at the last minute. I could finish faster if you’d stop texting me!

I returned to my computer screen and squinted at the small column of numbers. I sighed. Numbers weren’t my thing. I’d thought I was safe by majoring in marketing, but apparently even marketing majors needed to know how to adhere to a budget for their projects. My boss, Mr. Dent, didn’t really seem to understand the budget all that well himself, though. Probably why he’d dumped this on me at the last minute.

After making a few minor changes to the numbers I’d entered earlier, I saved the file to the project drive and printed. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best I could do. What the hell could he really expect at the last minute on a Friday? It was already eight o’clock, and no one else had stayed this late. If I was lucky, Mr. Dent had fallen asleep at his desk again, and I could just slide this into his inbox without having to interact with him.

I hated having to talk to my creepy older boss, a man who still thought a comb over was preferable to just being bald, especially when there was no one else there to act as a buffer. It wasn’t any one thing he’d done that made me uncomfortable; there was just something about the way he looked at me. I shuddered as I gathered my things. He looked at me like he wished he could see through my clothes. I sighed, realizing his cringeworthy gazes were the only action I’d seen in months.

I walked down the hallway toward Mr. Dent’s corner office. My handbag thumped against my thigh as I walked awkwardly, trying to type a text to Hunter at the same time. Maybe if I hadn’t been distracted, I would have heard the noises before I got to the doorway.

“Oh yes, that’s it. Suck that dick.”

I halted in the doorway, the hand that was holding my phone going up to cover my mouth. My brain was in such shock that I tried to cover my mouth and my eyes simultaneously, but I couldn’t block the grotesque image playing out right in front of me.

The light was off in the room but Mr. Dent had a large picture window right behind him and the late evening light was more than enough to illuminate what he was doing. He’d pushed his chair back from his desk and sat with his legs spread, creating more room for him as his meaty hand tugged at the short, stubby penis protruding from his pants.

I clutched my phone tighter, my mouth opening and closing in shock. I knew I should probably move, but what if he saw me from the corner of his eye? So far, he hadn’t noticed me, and I definitely didn’t want to do anything to draw his attention.

“Oh fuck yeah. That’s it. Yes. Yes. Bailey!” He shouted my name and let out a long, agonizing groan.

His hand moved so fast it was a blur, but there was no missing the stream of white that sprayed everywhere as he continued to groan out my name.

My name.

Horrified, I backed out of the room slowly. Luckily, Mr. Dent still had his eyes squeezed closed as his hand continued to pump absently at his now deflated mini-sausage. There was an expression of complete and total satisfaction on his face.

OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod.

My heart was practically beating out of my chest as I trotted down the hallway, my phone still clutched in my hand. What the hell was that? Had he actually said my name?

I squeezed my eyes shut as a wave of revulsion swept through me. The elevator was right in front of me, but I was scared to hit the button. What if he heard me? Then I thought, Fuck it, and hit the button to call the elevator. If he hadn’t heard me running down the hallway, then I was probably safe.

The entire walk over to Happy’s, I replayed the last five minutes. It felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. This was my boss! I had to go back to work on Monday and look him in the eye like nothing had happened! I almost gagged just thinking about all the times he’d come up behind me at my desk and put his hand on my shoulder.

For the rest of eternity, I’d have a new image of exactly where his hands had been. Shudder.

Hunter texted me again. Without even reading his message, I typed back.

Me: I am traumatized. There better be a drink waiting for me when I get there.

Suddenly the phone in my hand rang. I answered with a shaky “Hello?”

“What the hell happened? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” Hunter growled.

I clutched my bag tighter as I sped up. The front door of the bar was now visible. “It’s so much worse than that. I’m almost there. And Hunter?”

“Yeah, baby girl?”

“I was serious about that drink. In fact, make it two.”

Hunter

The things I did for the friend that I’d been crushing on for what felt like forever…

It was hard to believe that we’d only known each other a year. She’d started interning at my company the prior summer. There was a slight age difference—she was still in college, after all. But I didn’t think that twenty-six was too old. There were advantages in dating a guy who was a little older. Advantages like the ability to not come in the first five minutes of sex and knowing what the clitoris was capable of.

I had mastered both in college and was a much better man for it. If only Bailey would let me show her. But she didn’t see me that way. I was the charming guy who worked a floor above hers and was always up for a coffee run, not the one she wanted to drag into the supply closet and make out with.

As soon as Bailey appeared in the doorway of the bar, I could tell something was seriously wrong. She obviously hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she was traumatized. Her eyes darted around the room wildly, like she’d just seen a ghost, and her hands shook as she tried to straighten her hair. That was another clue. Bailey always looked perfect. I’d never seen her with a hair out of place, but the bun she always wore was falling down and her hair hung loosely around her neck. When she saw me, her eyes lit up, which made me feel about ten feet tall.

Bailey pushed her way through the crowd and dropped into the chair across from me. Tables were always at a premium, so there were several other people I didn’t know at the other end of the table. Bailey snatched one of the vodka shots from in front of me and tossed it back. I watched in amazement as she winced and then blew out a breath. Then she reached over and took the other one, the one I’d been saving for myself, and drank that too.

“What the hell happened to you?” I finally asked.  

“Oh God. I don’t even know where to start.” She dropped her head into her hand.

I’d seen that she texted me some random video earlier, but I hadn’t had a chance to watch it because her other texts had come rushing in. Knowing Bailey, she’d probably sent me another blurry video as she walked around the office. I’d never met a person worse with technology than Bailey. She also managed to butt-dial me frequently.

Finally she leaned closer. “You can’t tell anyone this. I’m serious.”

I pantomimed locking my lips with a key. “I’m a vault. Come on, Bay, you know I’m not a gossip.”

She leaned even closer. “I saw Mr. Dent jerking off in his office.” She took a really deep breath. “And then when he… you know, finished... he said my name. Several times.”

After a long moment spent staring at her, I stood and went over to the bar and held up two fingers. A few minutes later I returned to the table with two more vodka shots. I sat down and slid one across the table to Bailey, who took it gratefully. She tilted her head back, and I watched her throat work as she swallowed.

Heat climbed my face. Damn, I was just as bad as her boss. Mr. Dent wasn’t my manager, but he was the one who managed the intern program. He was a crotchety older man, the type who liked to argue just to hear the sound of his own voice. The thought of that dude wanking and fantasizing about Bailey was enough to turn my stomach, so I could only imagine how she felt. I took my own shot, hoping the alcohol could clear the image.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding when you said it was traumatizing.”

“Yes! Oh my God, how the hell am I supposed to go to work on Monday?” Bailey’s loud screech drew some attention from the strangers at the end of their table. She shrank under their stares, lowering her voice. “And now I’m acting like the drunk crazy girl in the bar. This is just great.”

Her words slurred slightly and I figured that was a sign. Bailey was a petite thing, so three vodka shots in close succession probably wasn’t the best idea. But if any situation could benefit from a little alcohol-induced memory loss, this one qualified for sure.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” I pulled up the taxi app on my phone and called for a car. It showed one two streets away. I stood and held out my hand to Bailey.

She stood. “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate you listening. I didn’t mean to make you leave early.” She hugged me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head right over my heart.

I tried to pull back slightly so she wouldn’t feel the erection that was steadily growing. She’d just seen the grossest thing imaginable, so I figured the last thing she’d want would be to come into contact with dick of any kind. But when I tried to step back, her arms tightened and she pressed her face against my shirt.

“You’re such a good friend!” she wailed. Since her face was turned into my chest, it came out muffled, sounding more like “Yooof such a goob fiend!”

I sighed. “Okay, this is not going to work. Come on, baby girl.” I led her to the door, walking sideways half the time since she didn’t want to let go of my waist. By the time we made it through the crowd and got to the cab waiting at the curb, Bailey was barely walking on her own and her hands had decided to take a walking tour of my body. I managed to get her in the cab, ignoring the skeptical look of the driver.

“Man, is she okay? She’d better not throw up in my cab.”

I shot the guy a look. “Drive fast then.” I gave him Bailey’s address and then jumped when I felt her hand in my lap.

I gritted my teeth as I tried to peel her fingers off my thigh.

This was typical luck for me. The girl who’d never been interested in me before was handsy when she was drunk.

Typical luck.

Bailey

Once Hunter had me back home, I had an even more difficult time keeping my hands to myself. Now wait just a minute. Hunter had all this going on? I slid my hands over his pecs and abs, silently counting the muscles. Well, well. Hunter had been holding out on me.

Okay, I wasn’t an idiot: he was clearly cute. Smoking hot, from a truly objective standpoint. He had dark brown hair that I was pretty sure he styled into messy disarray. His moss green eyes were kind and intelligent, but also really expressive. I could always tell his mood by his eyes. When I’d started at Bold Horizons, a year ago, my focus had been on my future. What I did here would also get me into the MBA program.

So I’d worked hard to put thoughts of the super nice, super hot young executive out of my mind. Well, except when I was in bed, alone, with a vibrator guaranteed to make me scream.

I didn’t have the best luck with guys, and I wasn't looking to make a mistake where I worked. I always chose wrong. And when it came down to it, Hunter had turned out to be a really good friend. When stuff at school was hard, I could escape into our friendship. During the school year, I commuted from campus, but since it was summer, the company had found me this corporate apartment as part of the internship program.

And now, I was here…with Hunter…and he felt so good. No, seriously, why hadn't I jumped his bones before? Because you know how you are. Once you get close, you panic and you run.

I knew this line of thought was entirely due to the copious amount of alcohol I’d imbibed. But there was a part of me that wanted to do this. This was Hunter. He was my friend. He was so sweet. Exactly the kind of guy that every girl should want to be with.

He took care of me, and did all the gentlemanly things you only read about in books. Even though we were just friends, every time he dropped me off at my apartment, he made it a point to walk me to the door and make sure I got in okay.

If he invited me somewhere, he insisted on paying. It all evened out in the end because I’d often bought the beers, but it was more than that. He listened. And whenever he had a girlfriend issue, he talked about each girl with respect. I’d never let myself admit it before, but I was always a little bit jealous.

Not because of the girls per se, because I wasn't looking for that from Hunter. Are you sure about that? But because of the kind of guy he was. I wanted someone like that for myself, eventually. You know, after I graduated and had my career on track. Then it would be time to find someone who wouldn’t hurt me.

Except with Hunter tonight, with him holding me, I wanted him to help me forget. Forget what I’d seen and heard. Ugh. Please God, I really needed to forget what I’d heard.

And the more I touched Hunter, the more my brain focused on the tingling low in my belly than it did on the horrors I’d seen before I left the office.

"Hunter, how come you’ve never asked me out before?"

I could hear the question coming out of my mouth. It was like my brain wasn't in control. At least not the rational part of my brain, the part that would remind me that this was Hunter. He was my friend, and not some guy that I could just anonymously sleep with and walk away from.

Hunter cleared his throat. "Well, Bay, because we’re friends. And you've always made it pretty clear that you aren’t looking to date."

"And what if I’ve changed my mind?" I leaned into him. "What if I think I was being an idiot? What if I want you to ask me out?"

I lifted my gaze to his, and his pupils dilated as his eyes dropped to my lips for a moment.

Yes. The idea of Hunter kissing me made my clit throb. I pressed closer. God, he smelled amazing. And to think about him wrapping his arms around me as he kissed me and touched me and…okay, yeah, this Hunter thing, it seemed like a pretty good idea.

I stood on tiptoes, looping my arms around his neck. "You’re my best friend. You take such good care of me. I especially need that right now. You want to take care of what I need, Hunter?"

My breasts pressed into his chest and my nipples hardened. Just being close to him and rubbing up against him lit my body on fire.

Oh, God, yes.

I licked my bottom lip, before pressing my mouth to his. For a moment, his hands tightened on my hips and he groaned low. The jolt of lust ran straight from my nipples down between my thighs.

But then something was wrong. Instead of pulling me closer so I could feel the length of him pulsing against my belly, he was pushing me...away.

"Hunter?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. "Bailey. Let’s get you into bed. Pull out your pajamas or whatever and get changed. We can talk about this later. When you're sober. Because when you're sober, I am so down for having this conversation. But not now when you’re trashed. Come on, off to bed."

I let him lead me down the hall to the bedroom, even as I muttered, "I like the idea of off to bed."

He chuckled low. "Bailey. Stop. I don't want you to regret anything that you say tomorrow." With an efficiency that showed he’d done this before, he unzipped my pencil skirt and then turned his back while simultaneously handing me a pair of leggings. “Put these on."

I took them from him, but then I swayed. My stomach roiled, and suddenly I didn't feel so good. "Hunter? I feel a little sick."

He whirled back around and studied me, his eyes intense. "Okay, off to the bathroom."

He carried me. Had I been sober, I would've known enough to be embarrassed. Right now, I didn't really care. When he set my feet down on the cool tile in my bathroom, I swayed again.

Hunter’s hands eased into my hair, and he gently pulled the strands back off my shoulders.

Even as he tucked my hair behind my ears, my stomach screamed at me as if to say, Bitch, next time don't have three shots of vodka. Because why?

I meant to kneel down to the toilet, but I misjudged the distance. So when my stomach finally give up the fight, cramping and trying to eject everything I’d imbibed, I partially got the sink, but mostly I got Hunter.

Could this get any worse?

Hunter

Fuck me.

No, seriously, I really wished she would fuck me.

I looked up at the ceiling and inhaled deeply three times. Ever since Bailey Jones had shown up at Bold Horizons, I’d had a perpetual state of blue balls. And I was certainly going to need balls of steel to deal with this situation.

How is this even happening?

First of all, Bailey thought I was hot? From the get-go, she’d made it a point to ignore any flirting from anyone in the office. When I hadn't immediately come on to her, she’d seemed relieved, and actually become my friend.

I hadn’t meant for things to work out quite that well. Yes, of course I wanted to get to know her, but I’d been trying to give her space before asking her out.

It was a new tactic for me. Normally, I had zero problems with women. I looked at them, they knew I wanted them, they smiled back, and usually approached him. Or at least, when I approached, there was no hesitation, no question. Everybody was there for the party.

But with Bailey, things were different. For starters, I worked with her, and I knew better than to shit where I ate. Even if some of the girls there were beautiful, it wasn’t worth the hassle.

Secondly, I liked her. She was smart, funny, and had this way of putting me completely at ease. She didn't take herself too seriously. It didn't matter how shitty my day was; the moment she smiled, or laughed, or started telling me some ridiculous story, I immediately relaxed. If anything went wrong in my life, Bailey was my first call. Somehow, the girl I’d been trying to sleep with had become my best friend. I had it bad.

Someone was coming for my player card any moment now.

Deal with the problem at hand. Right now, Bailey was trashed. Completely and totally obliterated. Oh, and she’d thrown up all over me, so there was that. A shower was needed for both of us. How the hell was I going to manage this?

I gritted my teeth. "Bay, we need to get in the shower."

She sloppily grinned up at me. "Now you're talking."

Oh hell. The things she was saying. If I didn't know better, I’d think she wanted me. But no, she was drunk. Bailey with all her sober senses would never say any of these things. Didn’t matter though, my dick was harder than iron.

Apparently, even though I knew she didn't mean it, my dick hadn’t gotten with the program. I was here to be best-friend Hunter. Not I-want-to-fuck-you-in-the-shower-up-against-the-wall-until-you-scream-my-name Hunter. That Hunter was on hiatus. At least for Bailey, he was.

Oh, I dated, but casually. Very casually. Because I usually found the women I went out with lacking within one or two dates. After all, they weren’t Bay. Dammit, I had a real problem.

My dick twitched as if to say, Damn straight, you do.

I sighed. "Bay, you’re going to finish getting undressed. Can you cooperate with me while we get this done?"

She nodded at me and gave me a happy smile. God, that smile. Sometimes it was the most perfect thing about my day.

I shed my clothes, but left on my boxer briefs. Next came the rest of Bailey's clothing. I did the best I could without looking.

Her stockings nearly did me in. She was wearing thigh highs with delicate lace at the top. I knew the memory of peeling those down her long legs would be forever imprinted in my spank bank.

Once she tossed away her blouse, she stood there in the flimsiest pair of silk panties and some gravity-defying bra that only covered about half her breasts. She looked like she was going to spill out of it at any second, and it sure as shit didn't help that the damn thing was lacy and see-through.

With a dry mouth I muttered, “Get in."

She giggled. "I thought you were joining me."

Fuck. I was joining her, but I needed a second to get my erection under control. I climbed in after her, and the water hit us both. She peeled off her bra and revealed the most perfect pair of tits I’d ever seen in my life. Milky skin. Rose-tipped nipples. Jesus H. Christ. My imagination offered all the things I could do with breasts like hers. Hold them, weigh them, play with them, lick them…fuck them.

Shit, that was really not helping.

I just needed to get this done and touch her as little as possible.

I grabbed her sponge and handed it to her before squirting shower gel on it. "Start washing yourself."

Bailey made a face. "I want you to wash me."

Me too. But that wasn't going to happen.

"Bay, follow directions. I’ll start with your hair.” I found her shampoo, some raspberry-scented organic something or other. As a stream of water hit my back, I let it hit the back of her hair so the water would drench it. And that was when I noticed. She’d removed her underwear, too.

"Bay, what happened to your panties?"

She glanced at me over her shoulder and winked. “Well, I was wet."

I swallowed hard. "We’re in the shower. We’re both wet."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant."

I. Was. So. Fucked.

I shampooed her hair as quickly as I dared, lathering and making sure it was nice and clean. I stepped aside, letting the spray drench her hair, and helping her rinse it out. All the while she kept lazily rubbing soap over her body. Jesus Christ, I wanted to help so badly, but that was a slippery slope.

Standing here, trying desperately to look at the ceiling while I knew she soaped her tits, tested the limits of even my control.

Once her hair was rinsed out, I added the leave-in conditioner and gently worked it through her hair. She moaned, low and throaty, and my dick threatened to come without my fucking say so.

I could do this. I was the good guy. The sexually charged Hunter—the one who was demanding in bed, and got what he needed—I wasn’t that Hunter when I was with her. Because I cared about her. I had to remember that.

After I gently took the brush through her hair from the tips to the roots as she instructed, she turned to face me, and I pinned my gaze directly over her shoulder and to the other side of the wall.

"Hunter, I just wanted to say thank you. Sorry I threw up."

I shook my head. "Not your fault. You had a hell of a trauma tonight. And so you overdid it. No big deal. We've all been there."

She pressed her body into mine and—what do you know?—my dick pulsed in my boxers. And then, ever so helpfully, Bailey rubbed her soapy tits on my chest. I let out a low groan that was part growl, and struggled with the reins of my control. But it wasn't until she wrapped her delicate hand around my boxer-clad cock that I lost it.

"Bailey, stop. One day soon, we’re going to redo this whole scene. When that happens, I will have you turn that hot little ass around, plant your hands on the wall, and then I will bury my dick inside you. But right now is not that time."

She pouted, but she didn't release me. "But why not? You obviously want me."

“And you are obviously trying to get a spanking."

Her eyes fired wide, but her pupils also dilated. Well, well. It looked like Bailey was totally down for a spanking. Why did that make me want to give her one even more? Lucky for me, she wasn't too keen on listening. She shimmied and pressed her tits into me farther.

"Bailey. Last warning. You need to quit or you will feel my handprint on your ass."

"Hunter. I think I like this dominance in you." She kissed my chin and added a little slip of her tongue as a way to torment me.

I didn't mean to do it, but I couldn't help myself. I firmly set her away from me, turned her around and placed her hands on the opposing wall. Leaning over her back, my dick tented my boxers and pressed into the soft flesh of her ass.

When I whispered, my voice was low, "I warned you. Enough is enough.” The crack of my palm over her ass surprised us both. She gasped, but then moaned low. The tingling started at the base of my spine.

No. No. No. I was not going to fucking come right now. Not okay. But I was walking away with one piece of knowledge tonight. Bailey Jones liked dominant Hunter. And I was done being a nice guy.

I took the little sponge and scrubbed myself off in seconds while I kept her in that position. I quickly washed down her back and legs, but at that point, my movements were perfunctory. In seconds, I had us both out of the shower. I wrapped us both in towels and left her briefly to go toss our clothes in the dryer.

When we had both toweled off, I marched her into the bedroom, and handed her a ratty T-shirt from her bottom drawer.  I dragged it over her head before pulling back the covers and waiting for her to get in.

"Are you joining me?"

I shook my head even as my cock made an attempt to escape the towel slung around my hips. "No. But don't worry, Bay, we’re going to do this again real soon. And next time, I'm going to enjoy making your ass red. I promise I’ll make sure to kiss it all better." I ignored her soft gasp and left her in the bedroom while I headed to the living room to watch TV and wait for my clothes to dry.

Once I was dressed again, I let myself out of her apartment. One good thing had come from tonight: now I knew exactly how to handle Bailey Jones.

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