Boss: Complete Box Set: A Mob BDSM Romance (3 page)

I feel like I should say something, but I don’t know what. She mentioned that he was particular, but this is ridiculous.

Slowly, Mr. Masters turns, as if reluctant to leave the view. Inch by inch, his glorious body is revealed, the trim, hard length draped in the most perfectly tailored suit I’ve ever seen. I can barely pull my eyes from the breadth of his chest.

But a small sound comes from him and I look up.

Straight into his eyes.

My lips tingle so hard, I touch them. Good thing, because it holds back the gasp that almost flies out of my mouth.

It’s him.

It’s him.

It’s fucking him.

I whirl back into another memory of that night six years ago when I handed him the package. He’d affected me with more than fear. Desire ran straight through me then, and it shoots hot, cold, and determined through me now.

He rakes me with a hard, fast gaze, once, twice, and I know he remembers. He’s hiding it well, except for the twitch of his left eye and the firm set to his jaw. I can’t process anything over the beat of my pulse in my ears and the fast, relentless throb that’s pulsing between my legs.

This can’t be happening. How can
he
be
here
? He was supposed to disappear like they always do. Get the goods, never to be seen again.

His gaze burns over my body as he assesses me again, but slowly this time, as if he’s eating me up inch by blazing inch. Hunger illuminates his eyes as the tension between us ratchets. The only way to stop it, to break it, would be for one of us to move closer … to touch.

My face goes numb as his hands come out of his pockets, his left thumb jerking as if he’s imagining tracing my lips. Maybe it’s the wanting I see in him that makes me feel numb. Maybe it’s the rage hiding just beneath his want that makes me feel again.

He takes a step toward me and I hold my breath.

Just as quickly, he turns his back, his voice booming over the sound of my pounding heartbeat.

“Get her out. She’s fired.”

2

I
don’t know
how to feel.

I’m standing outside the office by the receptionist’s desk. She’s pretending to type, but her fingers are hitting more air than keys. We keep making awkward eye contact, so I finally turn my back. I’m still rocked to the core, completely blindsided by what just happened.

Brent Masters has criminal ties, and I can identify him. I am a witness. He’s probably regretting not killing me when he had the chance. Although I didn’t get that vibe from him then, or today. But it doesn’t mean he can’t slay me in other ways.

For one, I appear to be newly unemployed.

Donetta and Mr. Masters are arguing inside, and I’m both impressed that she has the clout (or balls) to talk back to him, and embarrassed that I can hear every negative thing he says.

“Someone who looks like that cannot be qualified.”

“She’s
the most
qualified applicant that we had! Not to mention, her work history included some heavy duty investigative account work—”

“She’s too young. What is she, twenty-one?”

“Did you miss the part where she saved your company two million dollars? Should I repeat it?”

He starts to protest again, and she talks over him, repeating
two million dollars
and all I can think is that he’s going to fire her next. The verbal battle continues and he doesn’t fire her. Nor does he back down.

“… aced the training. She’s smart as hell and impressed the stockholders. I don’t understand this, Mr. Masters.”

“It’s not your place to understand.”

I dare a look behind me at the receptionist as a hush falls over the space. It seems he’s topped her with those six words. I strain to hear more, but there is nothing. There was never anything to say. I know what this was about. I know why I’m fired.

That one damn night.

And that kiss.

My life was supposed to change after that final delivery, and it had. It had! I worked my ass off to be where I am right now, and I can’t believe this is happening. To get this far, only to be shot down by the last person I expected to see again.

My bewilderment is slowly being edged out by disbelief and anger.

Donetta comes out, a grim set to her lips. She spares me a glance, and then looks to the floor and runs her palms down her hips. When she looks at me again, her expression is both apologetic and furious, and I know Masters won’t budge.

I’m screwed.

“He’s such a dick,” she hisses under her breath. “I’m so sorry, Erica.”

She grips my shoulder and I believe that she’s genuinely sorry. It warms me a little. I’ve had a serious lack of genuine people in my life. It’s been too filled with people like Masters, throwing power around to stomp on little people like me. And for what? For doing my job all those years ago?

“You’re the absolute best person for this job. I’m going to keep working on him. I don’t want to let you go.”

Our eyes meet and I’m surprised to feel a sting behind mine. An hour ago, I was thanking my good fortune while sipping wine and gossiping with a true friend. Now … I’m back to being nothing.

“Thank you for trying,” I respond dryly.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not right. This isn’t right.” Her voice trails off and she takes a big breath. “It’s just … he gets like this sometimes.”

“I understand.” I don’t. Not really.

“I think it’s his blood sugar,” she blurts. “I’m sorry—”

I touch her hand and lightly shake my head. I’m going to actually miss her, I realize. “We both know it’s not blood sugar.”

I give a hushed laugh, but there’s no humor in it. If he’s going to throw me out because of our last meeting, then I’m going to speak my mind. The last time I saw Brent Masters, I was in no position to talk to him, period. Back then, I was worried he might kill me, but now I know he’s just a grade-A dick with a gorgeous face and a bad attitude.

She pats my shoulder, her hand slow to leave my arm as I turn and leave. I navigate my way back to my office. I can’t believe this is happening. Leaning against the doorframe, I stare at my tiny space for a long time. Donetta didn’t follow me, so I figure she’s still trying to change Mr. Master’s mind.

It’s a thin hope, but I wait for my cell to ring, just in case she’s successful.

The call doesn’t come, and ten minutes later, I’m still staring at the wilting plant Donetta got me on my first day here. Pushing away from the door, I go to it and dump some water from the bottle on my desk into the pot. Then, slowly, I gather my things into a box until my desk is clean and the room is as stark as it was when I moved in.

Picking up the box, I look both ways down the hall and bolt when it’s empty. I don’t want my co-workers to see me going like this. There’s probably already been a company email. It doesn’t take long for word to spread around here.

My face starts to burn as I get in the elevator. I’m just so impotently pissed at the unfairness of this. I paid my dues heartily and worked my way up, and for what?

A sudden image of my sister flashes in my mind and it flames my angst. I gave up my life for Nathalie—did things, so many things, for her. This job was supposed to be my reward for paying someone else’s dues.

You know what? Screw him. I’m not going to let him do this to me. Not without speaking my mind. I punch a different button, the one that leads to his office. My heart is racing, but I don’t stop to overthink it. The demanding need to tell him where he can stuff his attitude won’t be silenced.

What’s the worst thing he could do to me this time? He already fired me. Now the playing field is level, and I hold an ace of my own.

Galvanized, I give the receptionist a big smile and plop my box down on her desk. Her mouth gapes as she stares at me.

I point to his door. “Do you mind if I have a word with him?” I don’t wait for her response as I move past her and push through the glass doors. The scent of warm masculine musk greets me as I enter. It smells like pure sex and I’m momentarily stunned. Until I see him standing by the windows, exactly as he was the last time I was in here.

I break free of the spell of his scent, remembering that I’m angry. I storm to his desk, my heels making a loud clack on the marble floor. I know he mother-loving hears me, but he doesn’t turn around.

I stop at the edge of his desk and set my left foot down extra hard so the echo clatters through the room.

“Mr. Masters, I’m Erica Lundgren.” Saying my name fills me with a sense of power. That girl he intimidated and kissed six years ago? She has a name and I want him to know it.

“I believe you’ve been fired, Ms. Lundgren.”

“So it seems.” Taking two controlled breaths, I clasp my hands in front of me and force myself to relax. His outline is dark against the bright glare of sunlight, and I’m struck again at his perfect silhouette. What is he hiding underneath beneath that silken skin?

A tingle shoots between my legs, catching me off guard. Quickly, I shift my weight from one foot to the other, but it doesn’t help. His hair looks thick and shiny, like dark chocolate, the back and sides undercut while the top falls back in glossy waves. Perfect for digging fingers into … for pulling hard.

“I—I know what this is about.” I burst. “And I want to assure you …”

“Is that right?” He cuts me off and turns to face me. His gaze spears my feet and then saunters up my body, making my skin flush hot.

Lifting my chin defiantly, I school my expression so he can’t see that he’s affecting me. I hope.

“Yes, that’s right.”

I’m not prepared as he comes toward me. Do I step back? Hold my ground? Damn it! He’s face-to-face with me before I get my nerves together. My brain screams to step away,
pleasepleaseplease
, but my body … my body betrays me by craving the warm melding of his skin against mine. My lips tingle again, flaming the lust unfolding through every inch of me.

I have to look up to hold the smoky denim of his gaze. I don’t like feeling small and vulnerable again. But at the same time, he could easily cradle me in his strength, keep me safe and protected.

Oh my God, what is wrong with me?

Shaking it off, I shuffle one step back, but it’s not enough to breathe. So I take another, then one more. I hate my weakness, but I can’t seem to stop myself. His hand shoots out and snags my wrist. I freeze in my tracks, every nerve on fire where his grip holds me firm.

“Wait.”

I don’t give him time to continue, nor do I brush his hand away. “I assure you that for every reason you don’t want disclosure, I have one plus more. As far as I’m concerned, today is the first day we ever met. Don’t you agree, Mr. Masters?”

He remains frustratingly silent.

I continue. “That night so many years ago? Well, it can hurt me, too. Greatly. I don’t know what you were doing, and as far as I’m concerned, the night never happened.”

Silence.

Ugh. What is with him?

“Look, I’m good at my job. I have what it takes to work here. I’ve proven that already and it’s only been a week. Besides, I can’t imagine our paths will have to cross often. I’ll be sure to stay out of your way if …”

His eyes narrow. “You don’t get to negotiate with me.”

“Fine!” I huff. “Then negotiate with
me
.”

A glimmer of a smile touches his lips and I’m satisfied that I’ve taken him by surprise. I’m used to hiding my natural outspokenness, but I don’t have to anymore. I don’t have to be afraid. Besides, I’m still far too turned on to feel much of anything else.

His hand glides away from my wrist. The fire remains. “I don’t have to, Ms. Lundgren. My staff does as I say. If I allow leeway, it’s
always
on my terms.”

Unless you’re Donetta, I think. Even if her fight for me hadn’t been successful. Even if he had backed down and allowed me to stay, it would have been on his terms, making him the clear winner. Men like him always win. They stack the decks to make sure of it.

He dropped the word, ‘terms,’ like the bait it is. He wants to lead me around like a little mouse with cheese. Like Georgios did when I was constantly trying to work off my debt with him. Just when I thought I was making progress, he always had just one more delivery.

The power in having a choice is amazing. I can just walk away, but I’m curious, so I won’t. Not yet. Just knowing that I can fills me with confidence.

“I’m listening.”

“Of course you are.”

Yep, he has a serious case of assholitis going on.

It doesn’t make my hyper-awareness of his body go away. His clean scent wraps around me. It’s laced with rich, masculine notes that create a delicious haze in my brain. I’m seriously confused by my continued reaction to him.

He doesn’t hold my life in his hands anymore, just my livelihood. Comparatively, this should be a walk in the park for me.

“Look, I just want to keep my job.”

“Fine.”

What, what?
My mouth opens but I don’t know what to say. He’s surprised me speechless. It was too easy. Where’s the catch? With a deep breath, he turns toward his desk and slides into the chair behind it. Spreading his knees wide, his fingers steeple as he looks at me with cool eyes.

“Dinner tonight. A car will arrive for you at nine. Casual.”

There it is. His terms. The catch. My nostrils flare as I hold back angst at being toyed with. If dinner is the worst thing he’s offering up in negotiation for my job, I can hardly refuse. Still, I can’t help feeling offended. I’m not going to offer myself up as a woman who will do anything to keep her employment, either.

I am
not
a prostitute. Whatever he thought I did for Georgios, it wasn’t that. Never that.

I cross my arms. “I’m not trying to get a date with you. I don’t want to date you. I just want to keep my job.”

“This
is
a job.”

I recall my earlier conversation with Donetta. It fits right in. Is this what he does? Offers his female employees perk-filled careers if they sleep with him? Because I’m sure that’s where this is headed.

I’m furious now. “Fine, it’s a job, but not the kind I want. And if you think that I—”

“Will you just shut up?” He stands and puts his hands on the desk. I take a step back at his sharp tone. I know my mouth is open, but I can’t close it. He’s. A. Jerk.

“Why were you even involved that night? Why were you there?”

Memories start to surface, but I squish them.
For Nathalie, for freedom,
I think, but I don’t respond. It’s my turn to play the silence card. After a moment, he smiles and nods as if conceding to my stubbornness. I know how to play these games, too. His lips go into a grim line as he sits back down.

“I’m willing to consider today our first meeting, Ms. Lundgren. And I’m even willing to allow you to keep your position. But I need you tonight, and that’s final.”

I don’t know if I should feel victorious or stepped on. I choose the first.

“Fine.”

He takes out his cell and taps around on it. Looking up, he scowls at me and it’s both sexy and insulting.

“You’re dismissed.” He waves a hand at me and I leave.

I hate him. I want to kill him.

After
I jump him.

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