Bossed by the Billionaire

Chapter 7 – Alyssa

Oh, man, I’ve made a huge mistake.

I spent the whole weekend freaking out that I had ruined everything, and all because my boss’s dick got the best of me. I ain’t saying I didn’t want it. I’m saying that I shouldn’t have, because one night’s fantastic fuck is going to haunt me for the rest of my professional life.

I’m gonna get fired. I can feel it in my shaking bones.

My internship is tied closely to my degree. If future employers find out I was fired from such a prestigious internship, I will never work in my field again. I’ve completely fucked my career before it’s even happened, and all because I wanted to fuck my boss.

It was great. I dreamed about it that night. I keep thinking about it in intervals, my body shuddering from the memory of the pleasure he gave me.

He wanted me to go home with him. He was going to give me more. What did I do? I ran home like a little girl who couldn’t handle adult things.

I’m not proud. I should have at least said something. I’m also not proud that I’ve ignored his messages and immediately threw the roses away. Those beautiful, lovely-smelling roses bathed in gold dust. Okay, so I didn’t throw them away. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I threw away the note and gave the roses to my next door neighbor Melinda, who works three jobs so she and her son can live in a studio apartment. She needed them brightening up her life more than I did.

What do I do now?

Well, right now I sit in my Econ lecture, but my head isn’t one to listen to facts or absorb charts regarding world and local economies. Sucks, because this is one of my best subjects. I’m also not too shabby at Statistics. I like to think my skills in these areas are how I got my afternoon internship, but now I wonder if it’s because the boss thinks I’m hot.

He must still think I’m hot if he’s constantly inviting me out this weekend. I’m supposed to go to the office this afternoon.

How will I do it? How will I walk through those doors without collapsing in embarrassment? Does anyone else know? Was I initiated into some club I didn’t know about? Are there other female interns who have been on the other end of Mr. Marcus’s erection? Do I work with them? Will they know I fucked him the moment I walk into the office? Because I walk a certain way? Because I look nervous?

I drop my pen at the thought of everyone I work with knowing I offed my virginity with my boss’s help.

Why oh why couldn’t he have been a random encounter I met at a party or something?

Something strikes me. Something that makes me feel ill.

He specifically called me to come to his empty office late Friday night. He didn’t even care about the files I brought. Didn’t even look at them. Mr. Marcus went right into flirting with me. How long did it take him to get under my skirt? Fifteen fucking minutes?

I mean, I know I’m pretty desperate for attention – let alone hot, sexual attention – at times, but that’s sad even for me. Especially my first time having intercourse!

My friend elbows me in the back of the lecture hall. “Hey. Pay attention. You know this stuff’s gonna be on the midterm.”

Yes, yes, I know. Fuck me, do I know!

I can’t pay attention. I should call out of work. Tell them I’m feeling too ill to come in. I should at least take one of Julian’s calls, though.

God knows I won’t.

After class, I grab some lunch and stare at the high-rises in the near distance. I can easily see Mr. Marcus’s building. He’s probably up there right now.

I pull out my cell phone. There’s one last text from him.

“If I don’t see you at work today, I’ll be very cross, Ms. Pendleton.”

Fuck.

Fine.

I’ll do it.

I’ll go to work and face the music.

***

By the time I reach the office, I’ve convinced myself that my fears were all in my head. Nobody knows. How could they know, unless someone told them? The only person who knows what happened between Mr. Marcus and me is Julian himself.

He wouldn’t tell a soul! Let alone at work!

Right?

“There you are!” Cher Lieberman, one of the other interns, leaps up from our caddy-cornered desk and rushes toward me. “How could you not tell us on Friday!”

“Huh?” What is she talking about?

Everyone else in the office comes to a slow stop as well. They’re staring at me. Dozens of eyes, some of them judgmental, some of them curious, all of them wide and jealous.

This doesn’t feel right at all. Someone get me a pail to throw up in!

Cher snaps a piece of paper off her desk. Looks like a memo. “This went out this morning. You weren’t going to tell us before you came in?”

“What are you talking about? Tell you what?” She can’t mean having sex with one of the bosses. No way.

Nevertheless, I take the memo, headlined and signed by Julian’s personal assistant Vern. We get memos from Vern all the time. The fact I see my name in the first line does not sit well with my stomach, which is ready to throw up. Now.

Did he fire me and broadcast it to everyone in the office? What the fuck has Julian done?

“As of this morning, Alyssa Pendleton has been absorbed as an official employee of Bradley & Marcus. Starting today, she will act as Second Assistant to Mr. Julian Marcus, alongside Vern Jones.

Ms. Pendleton has also been promoted to the position of Mr. Marcus’s…”

I look up, gasping.

“Mr. Marcus’s partner in all events. This new position is titled Executive Liaison.”

Does that mean I’m his girlfriend or something? The fuck is an executive liaison? What’s even going on?

“You had no idea?” Cher laughs. “No wonder you didn’t tell us. When did you find out? Now?”

“Yes!”

“Didn’t even realize that was a position available for filling,” says Courtney, another intern. “Otherwise I would’ve signed up. Be the professional date for Mr. Marcus wherever he goes?” Her heavy eyelids look me up and down. “She’s boning him,” she mutters to Cher.

“I am not!” I’m such a dirty liar. Sad thing? I don’t even think I’m lying when I say that. How could I? Because of course I’m not boning my boss! Are you kidding?

Except I am. I totally am fucking Julian Marcus. The man waltzing into the secondary office where the plebs like we interns hang out.

“Mr. … Mr. Marcus…” I sputter.

Him. The man. Dressed in a black bespoke power suit with a crimson red vest and steel gray tie. I never noticed the golden pocket watch before. I only do now because I’m too ashamed to look him in the face. That face with it’s perfectly groomed facial hair, fiery dark eyes, and hair that must have been trimmed this morning. Probably in his office. I’ve seen hairdressers come in and out of there before.

“There you are.” He gestures for me to come to him. I stay right where I am. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Did you not get my messages?”

“I…”

I pass out. Well, not quite. I don’t mean I suddenly find my face on the carpet, although I would really love to right now. Instead, I find myself propped up against my desk, my body so overwhelmed by the news, by Julian’s presence, that I need smelling salts.

***

“Here.” Vern hands me a glass. Looks like hair of the dog, except I’m not hungover. “This will help put some spunk back in you.”

Those words may sound good-natured, but Vern has a default expression to rival Mr. Marcus’s – except he’s not as hot. Rather homely, but we can’t all be hot billionaires in Portland. “Thanks,” I mutter, glancing out the open door to see my boss – and lover? – explaining something to his other subordinates. Meanwhile, I’m kicking it here in Mr. Marcus’s office, where I lost my virginity Friday night. Right there on that desk Vern leans against.

He’s got no idea, does he? Or maybe he does. Maybe this is another day ending in Y for one of the most overpaid personal assistants in the PNW. His blue and red striped tie bleeds right into his royal purple shirt, jacket off and draped on another chair. His closely cropped hair makes Vern look like Julian’s little brother. Does he even have a brother? I think he has an older brother…

I sip the drink. It’s as putrid as puke, but hopefully it’ll keep me from puking.

Julian glances over his shoulder before showing himself back into his office. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. I’ll take it from here.”

Vern leaves, closing the office door behind him. Julian and I are alone. Again.

I still can’t look him in the handsome face.

“Ms. Pendleton.”

I continue to nurse my nasty drink. “Whatever happened to Alyssa, huh? You were pretty chummy with her the other night, sir.”

Oops. I said sir.

Julian sweeps next to me. I barely have time to register his immediate presence before he’s sitting beside me, his powerful body looming over me even though he’s closed the height difference between us.

My body still yearns for him. If I thought I was embarrassed before, I am all but humiliated now. Why am I being betrayed like this? By my own body?

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all weekend,” he hisses, sending chills through my traitorous body. “We need to talk about what happened Friday night.”

I sigh. “I know. About what we did.”

“I was thinking more about what you did.”

Excuse me? I sit up with a jerk, the very last of my drink spilling on my hand. “What did I do?”

“You left me high and dry with no explanation.”

He’s serious, isn’t he? Julian Marcus is pissed the fuck off because I dumped him the other night!

Is that the real reason he’s been calling and messaging me all weekend? Why he’s promoted me to his side? Why he’s made me his professional girlfriend? What the hell!

“I don’t owe you any explanation.”

Why is he putting me on the defensive like this? For God’s sake!

“Did I do something to displease you?” Oh, no. Nobody, least of all me, signed up to have Julian’s breath ringing hot in my ear. I certainly didn’t sign on to have his presence get all up in mine. Not only is he invading my personal space without my express consent, he’s also making me feel things that I am not in the mood to feel. Namely, I am not in the mood to start thinking about sex. “I’d much rather you tell me what I did wrong instead of running off like that.”

My body is fully turned toward the arm of this loveseat in his office. “Why do you care so much? You got what you wanted.” I snort. “I don’t want or need anything from you, Mr. Marcus. I certainly don’t need a promotion because we had sex. I wasn’t expecting something like that at all. Honestly, I’d rather forget about it. Let’s pretend it never happened and get on with our personal lives.” Never mind the fact I’ll probably be jealous the next time a girlfriend sashays her hot ass through the office.

“Forget about it?” His hand touches my leg. My pantyhose tickles my skin. Fuck, fuck, no, don’t, stop making me feel good! “You want to forget about me? You think it’s that easy? You think I can forget about you that easily?” He stops touching me. I’m both relieved and already missing his fingertips marching toward my pelvis. “Damnit, Alyssa.” Julian gets up and paces in front of the loveseat. “I’ve spent this whole weekend thinking about every second we spent together, and you want to forget it happened?”

I cock my head to one side. “You have?” Whoa. How could I be so memorable? Is he kidding me? Of all the women he has ever been with, I’m the one he’s been thinking about? Whatever. It’s only because I’m the latest. Maybe the latest and greatest, but I’m not naïve to think it would last. I may be young, but I’m also cynical.

“Of course I have. Have you looked in a mirror recently, Alyssa? You’re gorgeous.”

My eyes widen. Okay, now I know he’s lying. I’m barely wearing any makeup today. My clothes were thrown on because I was barely paying attention this morning. I haven’t slept a whole night in three days because I’m so weirded out by what’s going on between us. My hair’s the only thing that looks nice today, but that’s because it’s blissfully low maintenance.

Oh, and I’ve been stress eating this weekend, so I’m bloated as fuck. My hips, gut, and face. The unholy trifecta.

I am far from gorgeous. That’s okay. I’m okay with not being gorgeous right now. What woman wants all that attention 24/7?

The kind of woman who dates a man like Julian Marcus, I suppose.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, too meek for my own good. Like I don’t mean to look gorgeous, I sure as hell don’t mean to sound meek. Talk about something that will only complicate our situation. “Tell me that so I can go.”

“If I told you what I wanted, you wouldn’t go.” Julian lowers his arm and turns toward me. Shit, he’s so much more powerful now. Those clothes, that pose, that sturdy frame towering over me… I… I want him on top of me. Right now.

No, no, I can’t breathe. I get up, attempting to run out of his office.

He grabs my arm, but doesn’t pull. I’m merely stopped. I could shrug him off and keep going, but I don’t. Because his touch has me enraptured once more.

His dangerously possessive touch.

I’ve known men like Julian before. Even dated one, before I dumped him once I realized he would be a control freak in our relationship. Jealousy and possessive natures may be hot to some women, but they scare me. Who really wants a relationship like that?

One touch like that has my heart fluttering, though. It was one thing to feel like this when we were having sex. It’s quite another with our clothes on and gazing into one another’s eyes.

“What I want is for you to be right here with me.”

I wish I could claim this moment romantic, but there’s nothing in his tone that implies romance. It’s sex, first and foremost, and that possessive nature I mentioned earlier. He wants me here because, as he told me Friday night, I belong to him.

I honestly don’t know what to make of that. Should I make anything at all?

What I should do is run away, but my feet are glued to the carpet, my body growing weaker by the second. My willpower is a far-off, distant concept.

“Mr. Marcus.” I try to shrug him off me, but my arm won’t move. It’s like the stupid thing wants him to keep touching me, squeezing my wrist, trying to draw me closer to him. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I don’t know what you think I’m thinking, but it was nothing like this.”

His hand moves over mine. I think he’s going to yank me, but instead, he lifts my fingers up to his lips and kisses them, eyes holding mine. His ruthless gaze tears me apart from the inside out, like a bomb blowing away my heart. Imagine waking up to see this gaze every morning, Alyssa. Imagine seeing it before he kisses you, caresses you, goes down on you.

That’s right. He kept me blindfolded during our encounter. I have no idea what he actually looks like during sex.

I could find out, couldn’t I?

“You said you were a virgin,” he says thoughtfully. “Didn’t you?”

Like he could forget something like that. “In most ways. You weren’t the first man to polish my pearl.”

“In the most important way. That also means there are other things you have yet to do.” This time when he draws me closer, it’s with a gentleness that wins me over. I go, my whole body pressing against his, our lips dangerously close. “Give me a chance to initiate you into a world you’ve only fantasized about.”

I almost fall for it. After all, a part of my subconscious clearly wants me to. Why not? Julian Marcus is a helluva man. He’s the kind of guy who could approach you in Starbucks, at the airport, in the middle of a damned shopping mall to ask you out, and you would say yes without a second thought. Even if you’re married.

That’s how powerful his aura is.

“Why? What do you get out of this? Do you get off on doing this with a girl like me?”

“I offer you much, but I’m the real winner here, Ms. Pendleton. I’m the one fooling around with a beautiful woman who’s experiencing things for the first time. Even in my position, a man doesn’t get to witness something as beautiful as that very often. I’d consider it an honor.”

“An honor… getting me off to a good start in my sex life, is that it?”

He chuckles, that low rumble making his chest vibrate against me. “You have no idea.”

“But you would love to give me some ideas.”

I know the kiss is coming, but I’m still shocked when it happens. Perhaps it’s his mouth ravaging mine, tongue sinking deep into my mouth that shocks me the most. I’m not prepared. I wasn’t prepared for how good he felt inside of me Friday night, and I’m not prepared for his heavy, delicious kiss that almost has me ripping off my clothes right here. He’d fuck me if I asked, wouldn’t he? Throw me down on his couch. No, no… bend me over it. I’m supposed to have new experiences. I’ve never had a man make love to me like an animal. Not like that.

Him in that suit. Him, naked. Julian Marcus ready and waiting for me. Waiting to initiate me in his world of sex and billions of dollars.

Julian’s hands cup around my head, holding my face against his. I can’t move my head. I don’t want to. I want to keep my lips parted so he can plunder my mouth and get to intimately know every inch of me. The beautiful force of his tongue has me yearning for more. Between my legs, please. Tongue-fuck me not only to get me wet for your cock, Mr. Marcus, but to make me die. A tongue this talented could do nothing else, I’m sure.

“So what do you propose?” Really? That’s the first thing out of my mouth the moment he breaks the kiss?

He nips my lips before stepping away, heading toward his desk. “I’ve already made you my assistant. That gives us unlimited opportunities to be together. You saw that memo, I hope. Vern did a remarkable job with what I gave him, as he always does. You’re to be my partner – my date, if you will – at all future functions I have coming up. Not like I have a girlfriend, anyway.”

So I guess that means I’m not his girlfriend. That’s okay, I suppose. We barely know each other. We’re… dating. Yeah, I’ll go with that. “How long will this last?”

Julian looks at me as if I’ve asked a ridiculous question. “As long as we find it mutually beneficial.”

So until he gets tired of me, or I get tired of being his fuck buddy. How long could that take? He’ll probably get tired of me before I tire of him.

“I promise to make it worth your while,” he says. “I wish we could get started right now, Alyssa. You could say the word and I’d whisk you away from here and to one of my rooms. Yet we’ll have to wait.” He brings up a digital planner on his huge computer monitor. Even from halfway across the room, I can see the details of meetings and events coming up. Including one tonight. “Tonight you will accompany me to a small party being held in honor of a friend’s retirement.”

“I will?”

“Yes, but first, you need to go down to HR and take care of some paperwork. You’re no longer an intern, Ms. Pendleton. You’re officially my employee, and there are things to sort out with them.” Before I can respond, he continues, “Afterward, I’ll be sending you somewhere to get appropriate evening wear for the event. I’m sure you have lovely clothing, but I’ll feel better knowing I bought you something from this year’s trends. There may be photographers.”

Talk about an onslaught of information!

“So we’re clear…” I stand before his desk, where the wood structure hides my shaking legs from his critical view, “is this like a sugar daddy situation, or…?”

He briefly looks away from his monitor and relents from his endless clicking around his schedule. “The thought of me being anyone’s ‘sugar daddy’ is a rather deplorable one.” Julian pulls open one of his desk drawers and shows me his personal address book. “Consider yourself my girlfriend.”

“Your… girlfriend.”

The book flips open. Under P for Pendleton, he writes me in between someone named Parker and someone named Penstock. “The only people I write in this book are those I consider important enough for me to remember. Considering how you’ve consumed my thoughts these past few days, I suppose it’s safe to assume that you and I are having more than a fling. Things could change. For now, though…” He puts the address book away. “You’re mine.”

I slowly turn to leave, aware that he’s watching my every movement. Those eyes undress me. They fuck me. They leave me wanting more.

I turn back around again.

“So you’re my boyfriend, Mr. Marcus?”

“Julian.”

“If you’re my boyfriend, I get a kiss whenever I want, yeah?” I round his desk, encroaching on personal, confidential space. He doesn’t flinch. “Can I give you a kiss goodbye?”

“If it pleases you.” Julian leans back in his chair, muscles flexing beneath his suit. I’m a goner. Bye. “And I want you pleased.”

My waist almost topples me over as I bend down to kiss his sweet-smelling, ticklish cheek. His facial hair dances against my lips the more they linger together.

His hand shoots up my skirt and slaps my ass.

The sharp, sudden pain is more exhilarating than the kiss from earlier. “Sir,” I whisper. The word is as effortless as my desire for him.

Julian’s hand remains on my ass, squeezing it with vigor. “You do unprecedented things to me, Alyssa. Let’s see where this goes. Perhaps we’ll both be surprised.”

I do it. I kiss him again, initiating the moment as if it’s something I’ve done a dozen times before.

He lets me. He tips his head back against his tall, regal chair and lets me kiss him as if I have every right to do so.

Julian wants to talk about me doing unprecedented things to him? Maybe he should take a look in the mirror!

“Now, go. HR is expecting you. Take the rest of the afternoon off to get ready for tonight’s party. I’ll arrange transportation for you.”

The first thing I encounter in the central office is a sea of curious faces, including Vern’s. And Cher’s. And Courtney’s.

And Preston Bradley’s, who is standing outside his own office door. I’m not halfway across the silent room before Julian’s business partner slaps a Do Not Disturb notice on my boyfriend’s office door and enters without invitation.

“Wanna share what’s going on?” Cher asks me before I can hop into the elevator.

“I have to go see HR.”

A brief look of satisfaction covers her jealous face. “Sorry to see you go, hon.”

“Yeah. Mr. Marcus is sort of my boyfriend, I guess. Gotta get that taken care of.”

I steal that look of smug satisfaction from her. It’s mine now.

Just like Julian is mine, whether I’m ready to handle him or not.