Naughty Boss

I wasn’t sure why, but when he looked over at me at a stoplight, I couldn’t help but think that a part of this felt right. That when he wasn’t being my boss—even for a split second, he was more than likeable.

“It’ll be pretty hard to get a reservation at this hour in New York City,” I said, finally breaking the silence.

“We don’t need a reservation for where we’re going.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but for the record, I need to apologize in advance.”

“For what?”

“Because since you’re just assuming I’ll like where we’re going instead of being a gentleman and asking me,” I said. “I’m a very picky eater and I’m allergic to a lot of things.”

“I’m aware.” He turned right at the light. “You don’t like seafood, you only eat chicken if it’s prepared a certain type of way, you’re lactose intolerant yet you still eat certain types of cheese, and if you would like, I can break down an entire list of random shit that seems to make you sick for some reason.” He looked over at me. “Would you like me to?”

I shook my head, stunned.

“Good,” he said. “I didn’t ask because I don’t have to, because contrary to what you may think of me, I do pay attention to you. Are you going to give me a chance to be nice or are you going to spend the night acting like we’re at the office?”

“I’ll give you a chance...”

“Good.” He placed his hand on my exposed thigh. “Because I’ve been trying very hard not to fuck you since you showed up at dinner tonight, so the second you want me to stop trying, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

I blushed and leaned back in the seat, staying quiet for the rest of the ride as he steered through the snow-lined streets.

Thirty minutes later, he pulled into the turnaround of a high rise tower. Valet approached his car and he walked over to my side to open the door for me.

He pressed his hand against the small of my back, and as the doorman opened the door for us, he looked down at me and whispered. “Did you really wear that dress to make me jealous?”

“Depends. Did it work?”

“Very much so.” He led me up a short flight of steps and onto a glass elevator that faced the bright and glittering lights of Manhattan.

We rode it all the way to the top level, and the second the doors gave way, a waiter greeted us and gestured for us to follow him into a private room.

A hearth blazed warmly in the corner, and there was only one table in the center that faced the floor to ceiling windows.

The waiter smiled and took our wine orders before disappearing.

“Is this place normally set up for private dinners?” I asked.

“Not at all.” He looked at me. “But I don’t think either of us would like to be spotted together right now, considering our relationship.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want people thinking I slept with the ‘Naughty Boss’ or Tabloid CEO to get my job.”

“Me either.” He looked amused. “When are you really coming back to work?”

“You mean, when do you really get to fuck me again?”

“No, I’m going to fuck you tonight,” he said. “I truly mean, when are you coming back to work?”

“Once you admit that you need me a lot more than you think you do, and once you apologize for being so rude to me over the past year that I’ve worked for you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Well, amazing sex aside, I have three more weeks of sick leave and some very generous vacation days I can make use of. As a matter of fact—”

“I need you and I’m sorry.” His words came out in a rush. “And I really do need you to come back to help me, until you “quit” that is...”

I knew he wanted me to say that I wasn’t quitting, that I would at least consider staying, but one nice date and hot office sex or not, I was leaving Leighton Publishing the second I received a worthy enough job offer.

Thankfully, the waiter returned before I could get a word out, and the two of us ordered the exact same thing. A simple Swiss chicken pasta.

To my surprise, Michael steered our dinner conversation away from work and sex. For hours, we talked about all the things we had in common, which, for some reason, was a lot more than I thought.

And even though he was behaving like a complete gentleman, every time our eyes met, it was clear he was seconds away from suggesting that I let him fuck me on the spot.

At three o’clock in the morning, the waiter told us he couldn’t keep the space open a second longer, so Michael helped me into my coat and we ventured out into the city. He held me against his side as snow fell over us, and we walked all the way down to the skating rink at Rockefeller Plaza.

I gripped the railing and for several minutes we watched couples and families attempt to keep their balance on the ice.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I looked up at Michael.

“Yes.”

“Were any of those stories in the tabloids from last year true?”

“Some of them.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “Really?”

“What are you really asking me, Mya?”

“Is there any reason why you haven’t been featured in one for a very long time?”

“Yes...It’s because I haven’t done any of the things I used to do for a very long time.” He trailed his finger against my lips. “I promised my advisor I would tone down my ‘activities’ for the sake of the company going public in the future.” He paused. “I also happened to accidentally hire a very compelling and sexy distraction working on the floor right below me.”