Page 48 of The Bad Girl

Chapter 18

Nadine

Granger yowls hello, following me from the entrance of my apartment into the bathroom.

My eyes are red-rimmed, my mind is completely frazzled.

How could this happen? They’ve spent more than twenty years together. They were everything I wanted to be.

You only live once.My mother had said. She’s afraid I’m going to end up like her, settling down young and missing out on life only to be abandoned. She literally told me to fuck the busboy.

Maybe marriage is all a big scam. A fraud. Maybe no one ends up happy in the end. Maybe every couple just ends up resentful, tied together by children that will eventually grow up and go on to live their own lives while you’re stuck with the choices you’ve made in order to give them the best lives possible.

Fuck it!

What’s a woman to do when their happily ever after is shattered?

They sext their boss.

What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like I wasn’t eye-fucking him at the club. I can just say this is part of my bad girl transformation. No big deal.

I go through my drawers and find my sexiest lingerie, a pink lace bra set with thigh-highs. I slip on sky-high fuck-me heels and apply some risqué makeup.

That angel on my shoulder says,‘This is a bad idea.’But the devil on the other says, ‘Who the fuck cares? You’re a bad girl now.’

I throw on a black lace robe and position myself seductively in front of my full-length mirror. I let the robe hang open, my long leg sticking out, allowing a hint of my bra and panties to be visible.

I snap a few pictures in the full-length mirror and take out my phone to text Maxwell.

Nadine:Care to chat?

I insert a picture, hitting send before I can talk myself out of it.

Maxwell:I’m all ears.

Nadine:What do you think?

Maxwell:Are you asking if this is a good picture to send to Tom?

Nadine:It was meant for you…

Maxwell:Well, in that case…

He sends me a picture of him lying in bed, only his abs and boxer briefs are visible—and holy crap, the bulge he’s sporting has me salivating. I want to taste it, to feel it pushing into the back of my throat. I reach into my panties, trying to alleviate the budding passion that has me slick and eager for his cock.

Maxwell:Fuck! I’m sorry.

I pull my hand up, wiping it on my pillow before typing.

Nadine:What’s wrong?

Maxwell:This. This is wrong! You are my assistant.

Dammit! Don’t chicken out on me. I really need this, more than anything right now.

But it’s not only that you need a distraction. Maxwell is a snack, you’ve always thought so, you’ve just never been brave enough to get down and dirty with the bossman.

It’s true, which is why I can’t blame Maxwell for being conflicted. He’s the epitome of professional, never crossingthatline. I should end this right now, but there’s a part of me that wants to take this further. That’s burning with lust for my forbidden boss.