Breaking up with My Boss - Alexis Winter Page 0,48

I should be working, but honestly, I’m too confused to work. It’s driving me crazy that I don’t know what this thing between Matthew and me is. I mean, he seems just as into it as I do. Especially after he sought me out in my bedroom yesterday. And then again last night after we went our separate ways to sleep. I was almost sound asleep when I heard the soft clicking of my door opening and shutting. Moments later, his hot body was pressed against my back, his strong arms wrapping around me. He didn’t try for sex and neither did I. Instead, we just held each other all night long. I’ve never slept so well in all my life.

But that has me questioning his intentions and reading into things. Does he want more? Does he want a relationship? What’s the meaning behind all of this? And what exactly do I want? I want Matthew, but I want my version of him. He isn’t just one-sided, and that’s the problem. With the good comes the bad. And I’m not sure if he wants the real me or the fake image of me he has in his head: the one who wears expensive jewelry and goes to the gym and the spa. That’s not the real me. Or has he finally been able to see past that? The worst part about all of this is that I’m afraid to even ask—as if asking will break the magical spell we’re under and everything will go back to the way it was before.

And even though I’m confused about everything between us, I don’t stop to think when he sticks his head out of his office door and motions for me to join him. I smile, my stomach tightening and filling with butterflies as I stand and walk inside the room. The moment we’re alone, he tugs me against him and kisses me senseless. He carries me across the floor and bends me over the front of his desk.

“Those shoes drive me mad,” he says, freeing himself from his pants. He begins pushing my skirt up my legs, allowing his hand to run up the length of my leg—all the way to my ass. “And this fucking red lace thong to match . . .” he yanks it down. “Are you trying to kill me?” he asks, taking himself in hand and shoving into me.

“Oh,” I breathe out the moment his hips are pressing into my ass.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined doing this.” He thrusts back in again—harder, deeper. “Those shoes have run miles in my head.” He grinds his hips into me, making me bite down on my lower lip to keep from calling out.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Do you like that?” he asks, squeezing my hips as he pushes into me.

I feel like playing the part of the good little secretary. “Yes, sir,” I reply. This only makes him let out a growl as his hips work faster. He clearly liked that, so I keep going. “Oh, Mr. Lewis . . .”

Another growl fills my ears as his hips become erratic.

“Yes, don’t stop,” I beg, more for his sake than mine. What’s he’s doing feels good, but I’m nowhere near ready to finish and I can tell that this was meant to be a quickie. He’ll have to owe me one after this go-round.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a moan and a growl as he explodes into me. He pounds out every last wave of his release, hips jerking and sputtering to a stop. Finally, he freezes behind me.

He removes himself from me and tucks himself back into his pants as I stand up, pushing my skirt back into place. I look up and meet his eyes. He’s smirking and he draws closer.

“I really liked that dirty secretary stuff.” He kisses me.

I giggle against his lips. “I thought you would.”

I pull away and walk around the desk to leave his office, but he catches me at the door for one more kiss. “Maybe we can do that at home later?”

“We better. You owe me one.”

He pulls back out of surprise. “I owe you one?” he asks. “You usually get off three or four times while I only get off once. If anyone has achieved higher numbers, it’s you,” he says around a smile as he opens the door.

I go to step out, but find Daniel standing there, arms crossed and smiling wide.