Bigshot Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance Read online

  That thought alone is enough to drive me half wild. Trent waiting for me. For me. I couldn’t help but flash back to the way he’d kissed me in his office, the way I could feel his rock hard cock pressing up against me.

  Just thinking about him — and it — is making me wet, and I squirm in my seat.

  The truth is, I want him. God help me, but I do. I’ve wanted him since the night I saw him at L’amour, and now that I’ve had a taste I only want him more.

  And it’s flattering to think that he wants me too. I can’t imagine I’m anything like the women he usually dates. I’m sure they’re probably all powerful confident women with perfect bodies. Women with experience, who know how to please a man.

  God. Trent is going to be sorely disappointed when he realizes how woefully inexperienced I am.

  I shake my head. Why am I even thinking about this? I’m not going so he’s never going to find out anything about how good … or bad … I am in bed. End of story.

  I go find Sloane and drag her out for a coffee. I keep the conversation light and we mostly bitch about the catalog but it feels good to just talk and think about something, anything, else.

  By the time we get back to the office I’m feeling a bit better. I can do this. I can be strong. I’m putting him out of my head and that’s the end of the story.

  Of course, I suppose I should tell him that in person.

  As soon as the idea enters my mind, I latch on to it. I definitely owe him an in-person explanation. After all, last night I’d basically implied that I was going to show up. It would be rude of me not to go and explain my decision.

  Just before 3pm, I lock my computer and grab my purse.

  “Just going to run a quick errand,” I tell Sloane. “In case anyone is looking for me.”

  She’s already grabbing her own purse off her desk. “I’ll come with. I could use the fresh air.”

  “Uh…” Shit. “Actually, I’m just going outside to make a phone call. My sister’s doctor wants to speak with me about something.”

  Sloane’s face turns concerned and I instantly feel bad about the lie. “Shit, sorry. I hope everything’s okay. Feel free to come by and talk later if you want to.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Jerk, jerk, jerk, I think to myself as I walk to the elevator. I am such a jerk, jerk, jerk.

  But my stomach does a flip-flop as soon as I’m alone in the elevator. I can’t believe I’m about to see Trent.

  To tell him I can’t see him again, I remind myself, but I’m not entirely sure I’m listening. I suddenly wonder if this is a terrible idea.

  I find Boardroom 5B easily. It’s on the thirtieth floor, right across from the bank of elevators. It has an entire wall of windows facing the hallway, but the blinds are drawn and the door is closed. Is Trent already in there? Should I knock?

  I hover outside the door for a moment, my hand resting on the doorknob but not turning it. I don’t hear anyone inside.

  Maybe this whole thing is just an elaborate prank, I suddenly think. The thought sends a wave of nausea through me. But it’s believable enough — it certainly makes more sense than the idea of Trent Whittaker trying to seduce me.

  But now the need to know is too great. I take a deep breath and twist the door knob, pulling the door open.

  And there he is. Trent Whittaker, sitting in one of the dozen executive chairs that’s clustered around the table. He’s working away on a tablet but he looks up when he hears the door.

  His face breaks open into a smile when he sees me.

  I have a moment of hesitation — only one — and then I step into the boardroom and close the door behind me.

  20

  Hannah

  The door clicks closed behind me. It sounds as loud as a gunshot in the silent boardroom.

  Trent looks at me and all thoughts fly out of my mind. He looks so sexy sitting there — relaxed, confident, powerful. I can picture him looking exactly like this during negotiations in this same boardroom, and I realize I would never want to come up against this man.

  What was I thinking coming up here to try to explain that to him in person?

  I clear my throat but don’t step any closer. I hover at the door, the same way I had back in his office the other day.

  Trent is looking at me expectantly. There’s a half-smirk on his lips that’s driving me crazy — as if he knows how unsure I’m feeling right now and he’s enjoying watching me squirm.

  I take a deep breath and try to steel myself.

  “I just came to tell you that I can’t do this,” I say, the words all tumbling out at once.

  His smirk deepens. He leans back in his chair and looks me up and down in a way that makes me shiver.

  “Then how about this: you don’t have to do anything,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, cautious. Somehow I didn’t expect him to relent this easily.

  He leans back further in his chair and folds his hands behind his head.

  “Let me do everything,” he says. “You don’t have to do anything, as you say. Just let me convince you.”

  My legs threaten to give out from under me, and I’m glad I still have the door to hang onto. I don’t answer him, just stare at him and try to swallow.

  “Hannah, come.” His entire demeanor changes and he swivels in his chair so that he’s facing me. His tone leaves no room for argument and I find myself suddenly crossing the room towards him, my legs moving of their own volition.

  When I’m standing in front of him he reaches out and puts his hands on my hips. I barely have time to react to his touch before he’s lifting me up off my feet and popping me onto the table in front of him.

  My dress rides up a little and I can feel the cold smooth surface of the table under the backs of my thighs. Trent hasn’t moved; he’s still sitting in that chair, now positioned right in front of my knees. He’s looking up at me with the most deliciously sexy smirk and I realize I am completely, one hundred percent, in over my head.

  I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart as Trent takes one of my ankles and lifts it up over his shoulder. He turns his head so that he’s facing my leg and then he plants a kiss on the inside of my ankle. It’s soft and tender and the sudden intimacy of it makes me gasp.

  “What are you …”

  My question trails off as he keeps kissing my leg, moving slowly up the inside of my calf, kissing the tender spot just behind my knee, letting his lips graze my inner thigh.

  As he moves further and further up my leg my body tenses more and more. There is an ache, a wanting, that runs straight from the pit of my stomach to the heat of my pussy.

  “Trent,” I say, surprised at how breathless and unlike me my voice sounds.

  “I’m very good at what I do, Hannah,” he says, his eyes glinting. “I want to show you just how good.”

  I can already feel my pussy dampening at his words … and as he kisses his way further up my thigh, it becomes more like a drenching. If he touches my panties, he’ll know right away how badly I want this.

  I watch intently as he makes his way higher. His lips against the soft skin of my inner thigh are driving me crazy, and when he uses his tongue to make a lazy wet trail I can’t help it — I scoot my ass closer to the edge of the table.

  Trent looks up at me and chuckles.

  “I’m just getting started, sweet. Be patient.”

  He grabs my other leg and puts that over his other shoulder and then begins the whole process again, kissing his way down from my ankle, past my knee, up my thigh. With both my ankles over his shoulders, it throws off my equilibrium and I have to lean my hands on the table behind me to keep my balance.

  When he’s kissed all the way up my thigh, Trent pauses. He pulls the chair a little closer and leans in so close that I can feel his breath hot against my core.

  “Did you know I love eating pussy, sweet?”

  His words are a low rumble between my legs. All I can do is look at him and shake my hea
d lightly.

  “I do. This is going to be even more fun for me than it is for you. And trust me, it’s going to be very, very fun for you.”

  Without warning, he reaches up and grabs on to my panties. He yanks them down so hard that I can hear them rip as they slide out from under my ass. He shimmies them out from underneath me and them slowly lifts my ankles off his shoulders one at a time so that he can remove my panties completely. He throws the limp fabric down on the table beside me and them pulls his chair back in.

  His face is just inches from my naked pussy now. I want to hide my face but the intense way he’s looking at me has me too rapt to look away. The man seriously looks like he’s about to dig into an exquisite seven course meal.

  I shiver in anticipation. My heart beat is off the charts as I watch him inch closer and closer towards my core.

  Trent slides his arms under my thighs and then wraps his hands over the top of my legs, using his leverage to pull my thighs further apart, so that I’m completely spread for him. Then he yanks me forward so that my ass is right on the edge of the table. Inches away from his face.

  My clit is throbbing, my pussy is aching. I need him to touch me. God, I need it so bad.

  “Trent,” I whisper.

  “Hannah,” he murmurs back and then he’s leaning forward and taking the softest, most tentative taste of me.

  I quiver at the feel of his tongue on me. So soft and warm and wet. It slides lightly along my slit and flicks gently at my lips. When he reaches my clit, he runs the most exquisitely gentle circle around it.

  My whole body burns with lust. I watch him as he lets his tongue dance lightly across me, and then I notice a shadow pass by the window behind him.

  Oh God. I realize just how close we are to the rest of the office. For a second he had made me forget that we were in a boardroom — right across from the elevators, in fact, where anyone could hear us. Where anyone could accidentally walk in on us.

  Though that thought scares the crap out of me, it somehow does nothing to dampen my lust. The way Trent is caressing my crest with his tongue is making all rational thought fly straight out of my head. All I want is this. Him. Now.

  I realize that I’m whimpering as Trent works my pussy. He’s gripping my thighs, keeping them forced apart, and as I start to shake, he ups the intensity. He sucks my clit inside his mouth entirely and the pressure drives me wild. My pussy clenches and I want to feel something inside me so badly, his dick or his fingers or his tongue.

  As if he can read my mind, Trent lets go of my clit and trails his mouth lower to circle his tongue along my entrance. My hips buck towards him but he holds me in place with his muscular arms.

  He stiffens his tongue and plunges it past my entrance. I squirm underneath him but his grip on me is solid. He flicks his tongue around and my pussy pulses against him.

  I realize I’m moaning and I think again of the people who must be passing by in the hallway just on the other side of that window. There’s nothing I can do about it though — what Trent is doing to me is activating some primal part of me, a part that just wants to scream and swear and moan.

  The orgasm is on me before I even realize it’s coming. Trent moves his whole mouth over my pussy, flicking his tongue back and forth roughly over my clit and then it’s happening, the pleasure crashing over me as strong and sudden as an ocean wave. I try to stay quiet but I can’t help the moans that are escaping from my throat.

  Trent doesn’t let up, even when he can feel me shaking underneath him. In fact, my orgasm only spurs him to work harder, tonguing me with a frantic energy that drives my climax deeper and farther.

  By the time the aftershocks wear off, my whole body feels depleted.

  Trent gives me a final kiss, his lips soft against my clit and then he stands up and leans over me.

  I smile up at him, still a bit delirious.

  “That was…”

  “We’re not done,” he snaps.

  He pushes me onto the conference table so that I can feel the smooth surface under my back. Then he grabs me by the hips and pulls me closer to him, so that my soaking wet pussy is rubbing against the front of his suit pants. I can feel his erection pressing against me and oh God, it somehow makes me want him even more, as if that were even possible.

  He grinds his hips against me and I wonder vaguely if he realizes that I’m probably soaking his pants.

  Trent slips his hand in between us and finds my pussy with his fingers. His hand on me feels totally different than his tongue, rougher and harder, and I shimmy closer, wanting more.

  He leans over me, resting his other arm on the table beside me. His chest is pressed against mine and his breath is warm on my face and his eyes bore into me.

  “I’m not going to fuck you today, sweet,” he says. His voice is gruff with desire. “Even though I want to and even though I know you want me to. But I want you to get a taste of what it’s going to feel like when I do.”

  He uses the hand that’s between us to find my entrance and then he thrusts two fingers roughly inside me. The shock of it makes me arch and buck and I feel his thighs press harder against me as he leans deeper into me.

  I get lost in his face, in his touch, as he fucks me with his fingers and moves his body against mine. He leans forward and grazes his lips against my skin. I finally reach up, grabbing his neck and pulling his face closer to me, kissing him harder. I part my lips and then find my tongue with his, letting them crash together the same way our bodies are crashing together down below.

  Trent keeps plowing his fingers into me and then he uses his thumb to stroke my clit. The sensation sends my whole body into a spasm — my muscles tense, my mind blanks. All I can do is hold onto the back of his neck, focus on his face, and say his name over and over.

  “Trent, oh God, Trent, oh God, Trent!” I’m screaming by then, or at least I think I am, and he’s still finger fucking me, moving his thumb over my clit, relentless and demanding, until he’s taken every single thing I have.

  When he stops, I’m limp. I lie there on the conference room table and do nothing but breathe and blink. It’s like coming to the shore after being in the middle of a tsunami.

  Trent grazes his mouth against mine one more time, sucks my bottom lip briefly between his and then stands up. He straightens his tie.

  “That’s one down,” he says, with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “One down?” My brain is still not quite functional.

  “One of your fantasies down. Remember? Me eating you out in the conference room? But don’t worry, Hannah. We have so many more to go through.”

  With that, he grabs my panties off the desk, shoves them in his pocket and strolls out of the boardroom.

  I lay there dazed for another minute, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. Then I realize I’m lying on the table of the conference room with my soaked pussy completely exposed.

  I hurriedly hop off the table and tug my dress down. I pull a little compact mirror out of my purse and try my best to straighten my hair and make myself look presentable.

  I can see silhouettes outside the window as people roam the hallway. Oh God. I try to remember how loud I was — did anyone hear me? This is mortifying.

  And yet … wow. Mortifying or not, what Trent just did to me in this room is one for the record books. I mean … wow. There are no words. There’s only the way my body feels like a wet noodle, the way my clit still buzzes with sensation.

  When I feel half-way human again, I take a deep breath and pull open the door. There are a half a dozen people waiting in the hallway outside the door, all holding laptops or notebooks.

  “Finished with the room?” A woman asks smugly. “We have it booked for a meeting.”

  “Yes, sorry,” I mutter. My face flames bright red. How long have they been standing out here?

  I scurry over to the elevator as fast as I can and don’t look at them as they file into the room. I jam the elevator button and say a silent prayer
of thanks when it arrives right before any of them can discover the giant wet spot I no doubt left on the conference table.

  21

  lovemail

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: Strawberries, sandalwood, summertime

  Those are the things you taste like. Fucking incredible.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: Stop

  Or don’t stop. I don’t know anymore.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: Don’t overthink it

  Come on. Didn’t I do a good job? I’ve been told I have a very talented tongue.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: Oh God

  You did a very good job.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: :)

  That’s what I thought, given the way you screamed my name.

  So since you enjoyed yourself, and I enjoyed myself, I see no reason why we shouldn’t move on to the next item.

  Getting you off today got me so hard and horny. I think it took six hours for my erection to come down (I was seriously considering calling my doctor.) I wanted to jerk off so bad but I wouldn’t let myself. I want you to be the one to take care of me. I want to feel those sweet lips of yours wrapped around my cock.

  Come to my office tomorrow at 3:45pm. Do not be late.

  22

  Trent

  All I can think about is Hannah. All night long, my cock aches. My balls churn. I want to jack off so badly, especially when I picture her beautiful pussy, the way she’d squirmed underneath me, the way she’d mewled like a kitten when I’d fucked her with my fingers.