Boss Is An Asshole

Wren

The only thing worse than Ms. Squeaky's cleavage on display at 9 AM was knowing I couldn't say what I really thought. So I didn't. Until she opened her mouth.

"I'm looking for my lovely Leander. Tell him Serene is back waiting for him." She tapped her nails on the counter.

Darn. Must she always show her annoying face here? She disgusts me. As usual, she's in a short bum dress with her cleavage fully on display and an annoyingly smug look. I admit, she's pretty and has curves. No wonder she gets the boss's attention.

I pinched the bridge of my nostrils, thinking back to her age and my boss, who's almost twice her age. Could she be less shameless. I shook my head before her high-pitched voice cut in again.

"Could you spare me a second? I'm sorry—"

"Don't you fucking open your mouth and tell me he's not around. I swear I'll fuck you up if I hear something of that sort." She cut me off.

"Before you cut me short—I'm sorry... heck no. You don't even deserve it. The boss is having a short nap and asked that personal meetings be held later. And yes, before you open that mouth of yours again, make sure you know who you're dealing with, Miss..." I looked her up and down.

"You... how... you!" She was stunned.

"You can't even think straight enough to form a sentence. Are you that dumb? You either shut up and wait or—"

"Wren!"

My heart skipped. That face has been haunting me for months. I know I shouldn't be rude to his visitors. But Ms. Squeaky is extra.

I counted to three and turned to meet my boss's gaze. His eyes sent chills down my spine.

"Meet me before you leave."

He looked me up and down, then turned back to his office, Miss Squeaky strutting behind him.

Those five words sent my brain whirling. I could have kept my mouth shut.

My boss isn't your typical friendly boss. If he dislikes you, he'll make it known. I doubt he has a heart. All he does is shout, frown, and ignore everyone. I hope I didn't go too far this time—it isn't my first warning.

I sighed, remembering when I mocked his 'guest' and he punished me with nine hours of work without a seat. The only good thing was Raphael's kisses on my forehead when I got home. That night, he massaged my temples and feet until I felt good. Could everyone be like my babe? Sigh.

Later, my body ached so badly I slumped in my chair. That's when my eyes fell on her—lip gloss smeared on her lips, messy hair, a satisfied smug look, her heels clicking irritably. God knows what went on in that office.

I pity his next target.

My mind drifted back to his cold words. I wasn't wrong, though. This is an office, not a place to man-whore around. Being decent is all it takes.

He never spares them a glance. Can he treat a woman right? I bet he couldn't. That beasty, proud, cold boss. At least my boyfriend will comfort me if—

A tap on my desk. Livie waved goodbye.

"C'mon, are you going somewhere?" I eyed her bag.

"Do you have amnesia? It's time. I need to get home. Bye—don't forget to clear the desk." She left.

I checked the time. We're closing early. Apparently, my boss said, "I'll be getting some renovations done."

Who closes workers during working hours for renovations? Hump.

I hate going back to him, but I can't risk getting fired.

The floor to his office was quiet. I stayed at the entrance for a minute, trying to muster courage.

A few knocks. A chilling "come in."

The room was dark from interior painting. Everything smelled like him. The moment his piercing eyes met mine, my body froze. I moved slowly to his desk, not noticing him stand and get closer.

He cleared his throat.

"You've got a rough mouth, you know that?"

I stood still, averting my gaze.

"I hired you to work. Not to be a nosy little girl." He strode closer. "It's time I taught you a lesson. Don't you think, Miss...?"

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." I looked down.

"Look at me when I talk to you."

I raised my head. For a second, something flashed in his stare—then vanished, leaving a colder gaze.

"I'm sorry, pardon me this time—"

"It's unfortunate. You'll have to learn not to get involved with my personal matters."

My hands shook. Every nerve stood at attention, screaming something I couldn't name. I didn't register how close he'd gotten until I felt the warmth radiating off his chest.

We were too close.

A real fear, cold and sharp, sliced through me. Not of what he might do—but of what I might let him do. Of the part of me that didn't want him to stop.

My breath shortened. I should have stepped back. But my feet refused. All I could think about was the way he smelled—clean, dark, with an undercurrent of something expensive and dangerous, like cedar and whiskey and the faint ghost of his cologne clinging to my skin from sheer proximity.

He is your boss. Cold. Difficult. Off limits.

It didn't help.

I was a second away from excusing myself when his hand came up and his lips found mine.

There was nothing gentle about it. He kissed me like he'd been waiting for this—waiting for an excuse. His hand fisted in my hair at the nape of my neck, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to say don't move. His other palm pressed flat against the small of my back, pulling me into him until there was no air between us. His teeth caught my bottom lip—a sharp tug, then the brief, shocking heat of his tongue over the same spot, like an apology that wasn't one. I tasted copper and something darker, something that was just him—salt and heat and the faint mint of whatever he'd had before I walked in.

It should have snapped me out of it. Instead, my body responded before my brain could intervene—leaning in, giving back, forgetting every sensible thing I'd told myself.

Then my mind caught up.

I pushed against his chest with everything I had. When he barely moved, something in me surged—my palm connected with his cheek before I even made the decision.

The sound cracked through the room.

He stumbled back, more from surprise than force, and looked at me like I'd just become someone entirely new.

"The f—"

I didn't wait. My eyes were already burning. I ran.