I’m sharing the first scene from the first chapter of Fighting For My Billionaire Boss today.
I’m graceful, I tell myself as I weave between the cubicles. A cardboard tray containing breakfast for my boss and myself is balanced on my right palm. Not a drop of the liquid in the ugly brown disposable cups has spilled.
Because I’m a fuckin’ gazelle, the most elegant of the antelopes.
“Morning, Lu,” Chanelle calls out. The women gathered around her repeat the greeting.
I smile and wave. They wave back.
They don’t invite me to join them.
This oversight could be due to my position in the organization. I’m the assistant to Brick Armitage, CEO and founder of the online insurance company we work for. He’s intimidating. I’m his second in command, privy to all of his thoughts and actions.
But the lack of invitation is more likely due to the fact that I’m not a real girl.
Oh, I was born a female and have all of the necessary parts—breasts, small yet still noticeable, an ass, also small, shoulder-length curly brown hair, a dainty, some would say, elfin face. Most men, including my boss, tower over me.
I simply lack the training most girls get.
My mother left when I was three years old, unable to handle my three brothers and me. It was easier for my father to treat me like another boy, dressing me in jeans, taking me to ballgames, teaching me how to fight.
I didn’t give a shit about this when I was younger. I was proud of my rowdy nature, that I could hold my own with my brothers and their friends.
It was when I became interested in boys and they didn’t return my interest, continuing to treat me like one of the guys, that I started to care. Not a lot. But enough to read fashion magazines and watch tutorials on applying makeup.
Then I met Brick, my sexy manwhore of a boss, and that caring was compounded by a zillion times. He captured my heart, although he doesn’t know this. Accustomed to dating ultra-feminine supermodels and famous actresses, he doesn’t see me as a woman.
I’m determined to change his view.
I make a beeline to his office, my pastel blue skirt swirling around my thighs, my heels thumping against the industrial gray carpet.
My boss has his door partially open. I scrunch my forehead. He’s normally not here this early in the morning.
I knock, don’t wait for an answer, and push inside, a smile on my face.
The space smells of his woodsy cologne and him. I breathe deeply, taking that part of him inside of me, and desire unfurls within me, a steady, throbbing need I experience whenever I’m in my billionaire’s presence.
The man himself sits behind his big wooden desk, his head bowed, the overhead lights picking up the ink-blue highlights in his black hair. Brick is clad in his usual dark suit, white shirt, dark tie. He’s frowning down at his tablet screen, his lips as grimly set as always.
My boss is SERIOUS, in all caps, rarely cracking a smile, and the stormy pent-up passion constantly brewing inside him turns me on. I set the tray on his desk. “You beat me into the office this morning.” Usually, I’m first in. “Why are you here so early?”
He lifts his chin, giving me a clear view of his face.
I gasp.
“Fuck.” I gape at him, forgetting my goal of having a cuss-free day. “What the hell happened to you?” I rush around the desk, needing to survey the damage.
Brick swivels his chair to face me. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” I trace the scratches on his left cheek, the red gouges in his perfectly tanned skin. “Who hurt you?” I demand. “Tell me who is responsible for this and I’ll smack that person into the next century.” No one hurts my boss, the man I secretly love, and gets away with it.
“You aren’t smacking anyone, Miss Henderson.” He covers my hand with his, pressing my palm against him. “As you constantly remind me, you’re a lady.”
“Don’t joke about this.” I glare at him.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t joke about it.”
He is seated in his black leather captain’s chair. I stand before him, my hand on his face. His hand is on mine, holding me to him. He’s my boss yet this feels right. I’m meant to be here, to be touching him.
Brick’s gaze lifts and locks with mine. His brown eyes darken with emotion. “There’s something I should tell you.”
“Yes?” I lean toward him. He’ll tell me now that he wants me, that he can’t live without me. Brick will kiss me and touch me and make me his. My thighs graze his parted knees and I tremble, feeling that contact in my soul.
Brick leans forward also. Our lips are a whisper apart. That connection I always feel between us intensifies, pulling us together, linking us in a way that is more than physical, more than intellectual.
His breath wafts against my cheeks. My heart pounds.
Should I kiss him? Should I?
Yes, I’m going to risk—
“Fuck. I can’t do this.” He sighs and releases me.
Damn it. I waited too long and the moment is gone.
“I can’t bring you into my crazy life.” His words are edged with resignation.
I continue to cup his cheek, doggedly maintaining this slender contact with him, hoping the passion or whatever it was we were just experiencing will return. “I’m your assistant. I’m already part of your crazy life.”
“This had nothing to do with work, Miss Henderson.” My boss avoids my gaze. “This is a private situation that got out of control.” Pink creeps up his neck.
“A private situation,” I repeat. “Oh.” I realize what that means and the last of my arousal dissipates. “I see.” I drop my hand, feeling like a fool for thinking Brick Armitage wanted, needed me. “The scratches were part of kinky times with Gretchen, huh?”
My humor is forced.
I’m so damn jealous; I could spit.
Read the next scene (available March 30th): http://tasteofcyn.com/2016/03/30/fighting-for-my-billionaire-boss-second-excerpt/
Subscribe To My Release Day Newsletter: http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/
Love is worth the fight.
My boss, Brick Armitage, is one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He’s handsome, young, and the billionaire CEO of an online company. Brick dates stunning supermodels and famous actresses, the most beautiful women on the planet.
I’m determined to be the next woman he kisses, touches, pleases. To land the man I love, I’ll become the delicate lady he seems to prefer. No cussing. No sprawling over the furniture. No punching the pretty out of Brick’s trash-talking ex.
But when I fail at this and the footage of my brawling goes viral, will I lose my sophisticated billionaire forever, or will he realize a scrapper is exactly who he needs?
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