The Boss (The Boss #1) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
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“I have no idea.” I walked on numb legs to the couch and dropped onto it. I put a couple fingertips to my bottom lip and smoothed over it slowly. I could still feel him there, a relentless tingle that echoed all the way down to my very wet panties.

“I peeked. Don’t be mad.” She padded into the living room. “In person, he just looks like a normal... person.” She shrugged.

“Okay, clearly you’ve taken your contacts out, because he’s gorgeous.” We never, ever agreed on men, mostly because when Holli was into guys, they looked like they’d just run away from their Disney Channel contracts.

“Yeah, I guess. If you’re into the daddy thing.” She shrugged.

It takes different strokes, I guess. “He could have been horrifically scarred in a chemical fire, and it wouldn’t matter. He just... does something to me.”

“Yeah, naughty, spanky things.” Holli’s eyes glittered with lascivious enthusiasm. “What do you think he’s going to do to you this time?”

“If I stopped and thought about it, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.” I probably still wouldn’t. How was I going to get through the night and the next day knowing that I was about to repeat the most fantastic sex of my life?

God, I hoped I had a fresh set of batteries.

* * * *

My eyes popped open before the alarm went off. I’d never been so excited to get to work in my entire life. Not even on my first day. Not even when Madonna came in to have lunch with Gabriella last year.

I wondered if Neil would appreciate the magnitude of rating higher than Madonna, and covered my face with my pillow, squealing. I knew had to get myself under control. If I spent all day swooning over the fact that Neil and I were going to hook up, I wouldn’t bring my A-game to work. I wasn’t about to drop the ball within days of a huge, surprise take over by new employers.

My morning commute was boring, the way it was always boring. I got to work and was at my desk, periodically checking the time, trying to control my hormones, which were in full-on rage mode before Neil even arrived.

He got to the office at eight-thirty, and greeted me casually as he handed over his coat. Strangely, knowing that we were going to have sex soon removed a lot of the awkwardness between us, and we were able to function like two normal human beings. Two normal, incredibly horny human beings. I felt confident that I could speak for both of us on that matter, because his hand brushed the small of my back as I moved to hang up his coat, and I caught his eyes lingering on my backside when I turned.

“You can’t do that,” I reminded him. “We’ll get found out. Also, it’s in the employee handbook, under ‘sexual harassment policy.’ The words ‘zero tolerance’ are mentioned.”

“Point taken,” he said dryly. “I have six people coming in this morning to throw shoes and scream at me.”

“Coffee and water for six. No problem.” Of course, I already knew about the shoe meeting, but he didn’t need to know that. Before I took over the beauty editor job, I wanted to make myself look indispensable, able to conjure things at the drop of a hat. I found it never hurt to leave on a high note, as evidenced by my college transcripts. “Do you need me to sit in and take notes?”

“Yes, please do. Oh, and before I forget...” Neil set his black leather messenger bag on my desk and lifted the flap. He pulled out an iPad in a sleek black cover and handed it over to me. “Start with the notes app. There are instructions. And you’ll need this.”

My eyes widened as he pulled a slender card free from his wallet. He held it between two fingers, offering it to me. “The name of the hotel and the room number are listed in the document. Unless this evening is inconvenient for you?”

I know for a fact he saw my hand shaking when I took the key card from him. The corner of his mouth twitched. He could tell I was dying for him. Judging by his ruthless efficiency in setting up our “date,” I had to surmise he was as desperate for me as I was for him.

Turning the card over in my hand, I glanced at it with feigned disinterest before slowly pushing it into the unbuttoned top of my black silk shirt. I knew he could see the slightly darker outline of my black lace bra beneath, and I took my time slipping the flimsy key into the cup of my bra.

He chuckled and shook his head.

Only when the door to his office had clicked safely closed behind him did I dare to lift the cover on the tablet and press the power button. I saw the notes app on the home screen and I opened it, my gaze flickering nervously to his door. The text of the instructions document was a simple, addressed to me:


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