Page 5 of The Boss (Roosters #7)

Aaron

Maxwell sent me home with his driver and I cussed myself all the way. I’d fucked up. Made a complete fool of myself. Maybe ruined something good before it even started.

The ride home was torture. I wanted to tell the driver to turn around and go back so I could throw myself on Maxwell and ask him to forgive me. Why am I so stupid? I can’t recognize a joke when it bites me in the ass.

I took things too seriously. All the harassment I took as a kid made me super-sensitive. I never knew when someone was just teasing me, and I tended to take their comments as a personal attack. I should think before I open my mouth and stick my foot in it.

The driver stopped in front of my building and got out to open the door for me.

When I tried to tip him, he shook his head.

It seemed to emphasize my fixation on money.

I’d always been independent and willing to work hard to get ahead.

It was important for my self-esteem, and I wanted Maxwell to see that.

Now I felt like his money stood between us. Rich people could buy anything they wanted. Maybe he was different, but I couldn’t help stereotyping him. Oh, hell. This is all my problem, not his. How can I be mad at him for being successful or having a weird sense of humor?

I replayed our session in my head all weekend, poring over what he had said, specifically, and cringing at my reactions. I knew I had come off as touchy and rude. Maybe if I’d acted differently, we’d still be together.

The rest of my weekend felt strangely empty.

Usually I looked forward to my alone time, but that weekend, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Sunday dragged on. One minute I was looking forward to work, the next I was dreading it.

I’d told Maxwell that I trusted him, but my actions had said something different.

I prayed that Maxwell would give me another chance.

If he did, I wouldn’t be so defensive. I’d let things roll off my back instead of overanalyzing them. Not everyone was out to get me.

Monday morning finally came and all I wanted to do was crawl back under the covers. Terrified to face Maxwell, I picked up the phone to call in sick and then changed my mind. He’d know I was lying. I’d never taken a day off before.

As usual, the front office was empty when I arrived.

I sat at my desk and went through the mail.

Maxwell came out of his inner sanctum and I forgot to breathe.

He looked stunning. There was something undeniably powerful about a well-dressed man and Maxwell looked commanding in a dark double-breasted suit.

“Good morning, Mr. Marshall.”

“Good morning, Sir.”

Maxwell stood by my desk and studied me. That’s the only word to describe how he looked at me. I was afraid he might fire me then and there.

“I want to see you in my office at the end of the day, Mr. Marshall. Five o’clock on the dot.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Without another word, Maxwell turned and walked back into his office. I felt flustered and extremely nervous, but hopeful, too. If he intended to fire me, he would have done it already. Right? I hoped this meant I would get another chance. This time I’d loosen up and not take things so seriously.

The morning went on forever. I threw myself into my work, but it was hard to ignore the boner growing inside my pants.

I paid too much attention to the clock, which only made the minutes creep by slower.

When noon arrived, I wasn’t hungry, but I walked over to the coffee shop and ordered a club sandwich and iced tea.

The place was crowded and I had to wait.

Lunch finally came and I forced down half of it.

It was close to one when I got back to the office. Four hours to go.

At 4:55 I went to the washroom and brushed my teeth. Then I knocked on Maxwell’s door, opened it, and entered. He was behind his desk, his head bent over a file. I stood there silently and waited, trying to control my anxiety that increased with every passing minute.

Finally, Maxwell looked up. “Did you forget our appointment, Mr. Marshall? It’s 5:03.”

Forget? It was all I’d thought about since this morning. “No, Sir. I --”

“I don’t like excuses. Do it again and I’ll punish you.”

Relax, I told myself. Break a few rules . I looked down and mumbled. “I should be so lucky.”

Maxwell’s eyes widened with surprise. “What did you say?”

He stood and rounded the desk until he was directly in front of me. Oh shit! Maybe I’d loosened up too much, but it was too late to stop now. Maxwell was so close we were almost touching. I inhaled his scent and it intoxicated me. I swallowed hard. My mouth was so dry, I found it hard to speak.

“I expect an answer when I ask you a question.”

His gaze burned into mine. Before I could stop myself, I pressed my lips to his, so hard I almost knocked him over.

I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me.

Fireworks went off, just as I’d imagined they would.

I pushed my tongue against the seam of his mouth, wanting to explore inside, but he pulled back.

“That mouth will get you in serious trouble.”

Had I gone too far? Nervously, I looked up, but his expression gave lie to his words. The desire I saw in his eyes made me bold. “I’m counting on it.”

* * *

Maxwell

I hadn’t expected a kiss. The intimacy of it stunned me.

It was a big move for Aaron. He was becoming more open with me, and I loved it, but I had to take control back.

Frowning, I ignored the satisfaction building up inside me.

“You’ll be counting the number of swats on your ass, my boy.

It’s the Dom’s place to initiate contact and I didn’t say you could kiss me. ”

“Did you like it?”

“Very much. But that’s not the point. It’s about time you learned who’s the boss.”

“I want to learn, Sir. Teach me.” Aaron had a touch of pleading in his voice. I almost creamed my pants.

“So you like the idea of being my submissive?”

Aaron’s lips creased in a seductive smile. “I like it as much as you like the idea of being my Dom.”

The cheeky little brat. Something had changed over the weekend.

Maybe Aaron was the right man for me. Brats got a bad rap among some Doms, but I loved a partner who would flirt and spar with me so I was willing to play along.

To a point. Besides, I was curious. Was Aaron acting bratty to get a punishment?

Or something else? Sex? I had to admit I was turned on by the prospect of fucking him.

Our last session had only been a teaser for me.

Maybe it had been for him, too. Well, I’d find out soon enough.

“Shall I tell you what I’d like?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “I’d like to punish you for your insolence. I’d like to tie you to my bed and flog that pretty ass of yours until it’s red.”

“Yes, I’d like that, too.”

My pulse sped up in anticipation of playing with him, and the images in my head made my cock hard.

His new attitude intrigued me. “I didn’t ask you, boy.

Punishment means taking you on as a sub and I’m not sure I want to train a man who flies off the handle so easily. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What’s the big deal? So I didn’t get the joke.”

I closed in on Aaron’s personal space and my adrenaline flowed as I took control. “You’ve crossed a line, Mr. Marshall.”