All Chapters of Seduced by my Bosses: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The next morning, I stood in front of my mirror, questioning every decision I’d ever made.The text still burned in my phone like a brand:Wear something short. He likes legs. I like watching.– IvyWhy did I feel so compelled to obey?I slipped into a black pencil skirt—one that clung indecently to my ass and ended mid-thigh. I paired it with a silky blouse that hinted more than it covered. My nipples tightened against the thin fabric, and I didn’t bother with a bra. Something told me… she wouldn’t approve of modesty.By the time I reached the office, my thighs were slick with nerves. Or anticipation.At exactly 8:00 a.m., I walked into Dominic’s floor. The receptionist’s gaze skimmed over me with a smirk, but she said nothing.Dominic wasn’t in his office.Instead, his wife was.Ivy sat behind his desk, legs crossed, a black coffee in one hand and her eyes raking me like I was already naked.“Lila,” she greeted, purring my name like it was something she’d already tasted. “You’re pro

He opened the door wearing a button-down shirt and tired eyes.“Hey, Mr. Harris,” I said, smiling just a little too sweetly.He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.”“I know.” I stepped in past him anyway, brushing close enough to let my arm graze his. “I like being early.”His jaw tensed. “Kids are upstairs. TV time until eight. Then lights out.”I nodded, setting my bag down on the entryway bench. “Got it. You heading somewhere fun tonight?”He didn’t answer. Just grabbed his keys and wallet. “Call me if there’s an emergency.”That was it. No thank you. No goodbye. No glance back at the way my tank top clung to my chest or how my shorts were so tight they may as well have been underwear.But I’d seen the flicker in his eyes when I leaned into the doorframe.He noticed.Mr. Harris was exactly the kind of man I’d always fantasized about—calm, older, dangerous in that quiet way. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to make your knees shake.When I found out I’d be babysit

The office was quiet after hours.The hum of the city had faded into a low background buzz behind the 34th-floor windows, and only the soft tap of Sasha’s heels echoed across the hardwood floors. She glanced at the glowing time on her phone — 10:17 p.m.Everyone else had gone home hours ago.Except for Mr. Grayson.Her boss.Cold. Brilliant. Always in control. And the reason her panties had been soaked for days.Sasha had only been working for him for two weeks, but every interaction left her flustered. The way he looked at her — like he could see straight through her clothes — yet never crossed a line.Until tonight.It started with a stupid mistake.She’d emailed the final presentation deck like he asked, but forgot to delete the NSFW meme her friend sent as a joke — a suggestive photo captioned: “You gonna finish that sentence, or should I finish on your face?”She’d hit send.Too fast.And within two minutes, his voice came through the intercom, cold and clipped.“Miss Reyes. In m

The office looked different at night.No bustling assistants. No ringing phones. No artificial smiles or stiff greetings.Just silence.And shadows.Sasha stepped off the elevator, heart pounding. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked down the hallway she knew all too well—only this time, she wasn’t here to work.Not in the traditional sense.Grayson’s text had been simple.Conference room. Midnight. Don’t wear anything under your coat.She hadn’t replied. She didn’t need to. They all knew she’d come.⸻The glass doors of the conference room were already open.She stepped inside slowly, wearing only a long black trench coat and nothing underneath. Her skin prickled with the coolness of the air-conditioning—and the heat of their eyes.Grayson. Jace. Nico.All seated at the table, whiskey glasses in hand, eyes like wolves.She stopped before them, pulse racing.Grayson nodded once. “Show us.”She untied the belt and let the coat fall.Her naked body gleamed under the soft

The first rule was: never enter the master’s bedroom unless summoned.Elena had read it in the thick house manual the day she arrived — right between the rule about knocking before entering any room and the one that said “personal space is sacred.”But the room had been quiet all morning. The sheets were messy. The trash bin full. And Mr. Blackwell hadn’t come home last night, at least according to Marta, the cook.So when Elena stood in the doorway of his bedroom — vacuum in one hand, duster in the other — she took a deep breath and stepped in.The space was masculine and cold: gray sheets, dark oak furniture, the faint scent of spice and leather in the air. She’d cleaned nearly every room in the house, but this one made her skin flush and her stomach flip.Because it smelled like him.She set to work quickly, pulling back the heavy duvet, smoothing the pillowcases, trying not to notice the faint dent where he slept.She was halfway through fluffing the pillows when the sound of runn