Big Pickle: A Secret Boss Romantic Comedy - JJ Knight Page 0,44

for stuffing. “We haven’t had many of these orders lately. I should look into who used to request them and see if we can send out a flier or something to drum up more business.”

“Manager-girl on the case!” Lamonte says as Jason emerges from Bertha with a canister of salt. “You tell the Pickles that Nova Strong is gonna make all the money for this store!” He heads to Mr. Chill, sing-songing, “Nova’s in the house! Nova’s got it going on!”

“How long have you two been friends?” Jason asks.

“Since I hired him.”

“Is it hard to be personal with them and their boss too?”

“Not yet. I haven’t changed how I do things.” I slide a pile of prepped pickles aside and scoop the gutted innards into a bowl. “You ready to stuff a pickle?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, so I turn to him.

“Are we talking about these?” he asks, waving his plastic-gloved hand at the pile I’ve made.

“Nope,” I say. “I’m talking about yours. I hope this morning was just the start.”

His eyes catch mine. “I’ve thought about nothing else.”

“Good.”

Lamonte returns with a refilled vat. “Don’t be doing nothing I wouldn’t do!”

“Short list,” I holler back as he pushes through the doors.

“Did you tell him?” Jason asks.

“No way.”

“Will you?”

I arrange the pickles, scooped side up. “Not likely.” I don’t want to think too hard about this. What Lamonte might say. What the Pickles would think of me banging their protege.

Damn.

“Should we stop?” I ask him. “I’m your boss.”

His throat bobs for a moment. “I don’t want to.” Then he leans in very close. “I’d drag you into the JP if I didn’t think we’d get freezer burn.”

Kate pops in. “It’s slowing down out there. I’m going to run to class.”

Jason and I quickly resume our pickle prep.

“Sounds good,” I call. “See you tomorrow.”

She turns quickly, her ponytail bouncing. Only when the swinging door goes still do I whisper, “Anticipation.”

“I’m counting the minutes.”

Lamonte’s head emerges through the door next. “Boss lady, you have a phone call.”

“Got it!” I rip my gloves off.

“I’ll be back,” I say.

But when I head to my office, Jason follows.

“You coming?” I ask.

We step inside, and Jason closes the door and flips the lock. “No, you are. Can Nova hold off on that luscious little orgasm scream while she’s on the phone?”

“Oh, no,” I say, but my panties are already damp.

“Oh, yes.” His voice is low and throaty.

I turn away from him to pick up the line. Surely, he’s joking.

But he did lock the door.

“This is Nova Strong,” I say.

The man on the other line has a smoker’s voice, rough-edged. “I understand you’re the new manager at Austin Pickle.”

“I am,” I say, my heart speeding up as I realize Jason is kissing the back of my neck. I have my hair up for the workday, and he slides his lips along my skin. I shiver.

“I wanted to talk to you about coffee. We have the finest fair-trade, organic, small-batch coffee beans in distribution. Tell me, do you grind your own beans or get them pre-ground?”

“Uh… I…” Jason’s hands slide under my shirt and inside my bra, cupping both breasts. I let out a long sigh. “We don’t grind them,” I manage to say.

“I like grinding,” Jason whispers, rocking his pelvis into my butt. He’s really erect.

“We can send them ground,” the man says. “We deliver on any schedule. Daily, weekly, or twice a month. We like to ensure our grounds are fresh and we roast daily…” The man keeps talking but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. Jason has unbuckled my belt, and the zipper slides down with a gentle hiss.

His hand slips into my panties, and he curls his fingers up and inside me. He’s already learned what makes me tick. I let out a gasp, holding my hand over the bottom of the phone.

His other hand molds itself to a breast, thumb and finger rolling a nipple. His breath is hot on my neck.

God. His hand delves deeper, and I try to concentrate on the voice on the phone, but I’m too lost.

“Can I make you come now?” Jason asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“Great!” the man says. “I’ll send someone over tomorrow with samples.”

I have no idea what I’ve agreed to, and I can’t think about that. Jason’s fingers work me faster, tighter, and he rocks against me. His mouth is hot, and my breast zings with his attention. My thighs shake as everything starts to tighten around him.

I clutch the receiver, unsure if the man is

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