Here is an excerpt:
My boss leaned forward and turned to face me better. “What do you know about me, Amelia?”
My eyes widened. “Uh. What do you mean?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard rumors. Tell me about them.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t one to stand around listening to gossip in general. Specific gossip about the owner of the company never. Besides, I had been living in my own dream world for the past two weeks, preferring to continue to think Mr. Alexander was the sexiest, kindest, most wonderful man alive rather than listen to the giggles of the other women in the office.
His looks and quiet efficiency, which was all I really knew about him until Friday night, had fueled two weeks’ worth of fantastic dreams. Didn’t matter a bit if everything I’d daydreamed about was untrue. That was the beauty of dreams.
He lifted a brow. “Nothing?”
“I’m not into gossip, sir.” I wiped my mouth on my napkin to ensure I didn’t have any lingering food on my face and set it on the table next to my plate.
He stared at me. “For some reason, I believe you.” And then he tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling.
I waited patiently for him to ponder the paint job.
His head dipped back down just as fast. “Do you know what a Dom is, Amelia?”
I gripped my thighs with both hands in my lap, seriously contemplating picking up the bottle of wine and guzzling the rest of it. I held his gaze. Or rather, he held mine.
“You mean like BDSM, sir?” I wished I could have sucked that question back into my mouth before it was all out there.
He stood then, pulled my chair out, and took my arm to help me stand also. It was nearly impossible, seeing as my head swam with questions.
My boss led me to the giant leather couch several yards from the table. The room was an open plan, although I hadn’t taken any time to peruse the furnishings of the living space. Moments later, I sat on the sofa with my back rigid, my legs together, and my feet planted on the ground. I wished I had the rest of that glass of wine.
Mr. Alexander sat next to me. He sat sideways, however, one leg bent at the knee so he faced me. He took my hand and held it in both of his. He stared at it for a long time with his head dipped down to examine every aspect of the back of my hand as though it were fascinating.
His touch was like an electric shock. After what he’d said to me, which made not one bit of sense in my dense mind yet, he still managed to make me crave things I’d never had the urge to pursue before.
I wished I hadn’t chosen that particular white blouse that morning. And the full peach skirt seemed far too short. In fact, the way I’d plopped down on the couch had left half my ass touching the cool leather. And there was no way in hell I was going to fix it now.
Finally he squeezed my hand and lifted his gaze. “You don’t know the first thing about D/s do you, Amelia?”
I shook my head. That was the truth. I’d heard of it. Who hadn’t? I’d read novels occasionally in my spare time. Again, who hadn’t? They were titillating. But real life? Was the man who was my boss and the owner of a Fortune 500 company trying to tell me he was a Dom? And why would I need to know this?
He exhaled slowly, and then he released my hand and stood. He paced the room. I watched him, wishing I could fall through a crack in the Earth and come out on the other side. I did get a better view of this space, though. Clearly he was a fan of white, gray, and black because the living room matched the kitchen in its decor. The leather sofa was white. The floor was tiled in the same gray as the kitchen, with an enormous, delicious plush white rug in the middle between the huge sectional and the wall of built-in cabinets. The wood was painted white, and there was a flat-screen television in the middle section with rows of DVDs and CDs surrounding it. Flanking both of those were shelves of books. A ton of books.
But I needed to concentrate on my boss right then, so I yanked my gaze back to find him staring at me, running his fingers through his hair, both hands.
I was in so much trouble.
Especially because he looked even hotter when he lowered his arms, leaving his hair a mess on top.
“Look, Amelia. I have to be honest here. I’m attracted to you.”
And there it was. I didn’t say a word. I seriously doubted I heard him correctly. He ignored my non-response and continued.
“I mean really attracted to you. I have been since the first time you walked by my office. My cock instantly got hard, as it has every time I’ve seen you since. And baby, my cock doesn’t get hard for just anybody. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve felt this kind of draw to a woman.”
Holy shit. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t breathe. And besides, all kinds of unwanted things happened to my body. My belly plunged, a tight ball forming in the center that knotted a little more with each word he spoke. My sex soaked my panties, and no matter how hard I squeezed my legs together, I couldn’t ease what could only be described as need.
My sexy boss continued to speak, pacing again. “I thought I could control this thing. I thought I could ignore it. I tried paying no attention to you. I then tried paying attention to you. I had hoped when I approached you on Friday night I would find out you had bad manners or a chipped tooth, or an ugly laugh or something that would turn me off.”
I had trouble following his rant. I tried to keep up. I did. But holy fuck.
“I had to jack off twice Friday night, and still you wouldn’t get out of my bed,” he accused, as though I’d done something wrong. His bed? I had never been near this man’s bed. Not once. This was the first time I’d been in his house for heaven’s sake.
“So I had this plan.” He stopped pacing, nailing me with his gaze. “I was sure if I sent you all over Atlanta this morning to collect that pile of stuff, you’d either freak the fuck out and tell me to go to hell, or not even flinch and leave without a blink.”
“I considered it, sir,” I managed to mutter.
I stared at him.
“Which one, Amelia? Telling me to go to hell or shrugging it off?”
“Hell, sir,” I whispered.
This freaking pleased him. I couldn’t believe it.
He smiled, and then his face straightened, and he turned to face the wall of bookshelves, giving me another view of his fine ass in the process.
I closed my eyes, trying to straighten out my head while at the same time ignoring his butt. When I opened them, the man was facing me again. And he was closer. “Amelia.”
He rolled his eyes. “Cade.”
I nodded. No way was I going to start calling him Cade.
“Unless you plan to stick a capital letter on the way you say Sir, call me Cade.”
I had no idea what he meant by that.
“You’re the greenest twenty-four-year-old woman alive. What rock did you climb out from under?”
I was sure that was an insult, so I said nothing.
“I’m sorry.” He cringed. “That was uncalled for.”
Huh. The man could apologize, and he felt remorse. Interesting.