Taming Her Boss Part 10

I stretch out on the bed and then roll onto my back, my c.o.c.k throbbing, begging for release as Olivia decides on whatever it is she wants to do next.

"Sit up, get on your knees, and don't you dare touch me." I do as she asks, shuddering in pleasure as her hands find my c.o.c.k and slide a condom on without hesitation. A moment later, I feel the bed creak as she climbs on. I have no idea what she's up to, and it's turning me on.

There's a shuffling of blankets, a curse, the sound of a pillow hitting the floor. I believe I'm facing the headboard, but I'm so disoriented with need and desire that I'm not entirely sure about that anymore.

"Just don't ... move, okay? I'm figuring this s.h.i.t out as I go. Hopefully this doesn't turn into as big a fiasco as the grapefruit thing."

I don't even have to time to wonder what she's referring to, my body tensing as she brushes against my c.o.c.k, her fingers finding me and guiding me where she wants me to go. I bite down hard on the tie as my body connects with Olivia's, slipping inside of her p.u.s.s.y and feeling the press of her a.s.s against my pelvis. She's ... f.u.c.king herself from behind? I feel the o.r.g.a.s.m sneaking back, desperate to explode at the vision I've conjured up of Olivia on her hands and knees, spearing herself on my d.i.c.k.

"Don't you dare, Lex," she grinds out, feeling the sudden rigidity of my body as she slams her a.s.s into me again and again, controlling the depth and the rhythm and the intensity. My fingers twitch at my sides. "If you come, I will kill you." I bite the tie harder to keep back the rush of hormones, the sudden possessive energy that's threatening to overwhelm me. I have to let go and give into Olivia completely. That was the plan from the very beginning, wasn't it?

I lean my head back again, the slapping sound of our wet bodies the only noise in the silent room. I never bothered to open the curtains earlier so there's not light for either of us especially me. The dark room and the blindfold have left me completely sightless. Until this moment, I'd never realized how much I relied on sight for s.e.x. I want to see Olivia's face, see how hard she must be biting her lip to keep back the moans, let the splash of her vibrant red hair fill my vision.

I lift my hands up and touch my fingers gently against her hips.

"Lex!" she shouts at me, slamming her body back, forcing me to grit my teeth and clamp my fingers around her to stay sitting upright. There's this violent pause where I swear, I can feel the anger inside of her boiling to life, warming my c.o.c.k, heating the room. I growl low in my throat and Olivia growls right back. "Don't test me, Lex. If you do, you won't like the results that much I can promise you." I release her with an exasperated sigh that doesn't even begin to relay the frustration I'm feeling. Olivia's pace is so slow and methodical, so controlled. Her body swallows up my c.o.c.k and then leaves it cold and aching as she slides forward again, just barely keeping hold of the tip.

Olivia stays silent, other than some harsh breathing, which infuriates me to no end. I can't see, can't touch, can't even hear her. All I can do is feel and wait and curl my fingers uselessly by my sides. My o.r.g.a.s.m comes back slowly, teasing me at the edges of my sanity, desperate for release, but it's Olivia who comes first, her p.u.s.s.y tightening around me as the first moan slips from her lips. It's just a sound, a bite of pleasure that can't be contained any longer, but I wish it was my name. I make a point to see if I can get it out of her before this new fling of ours is over. I want to hear my name from her lips, watch her mouth part to scream it.

Instead, she just slams her hips into me with enough force that I have to grab on again, let my fingers squeeze against her supple flesh and groan against the gag. Too soon, she's pulling away from me, leaving me feeling cold and empty as my body quivers with desperation. At first, I think Olivia's teasing me, that soon enough, her fingers will brush my skin and slide across my body.

And then I hear her snore.

I lift the blindfold from my face with a finger and find myself treated to a rather scrumptious shot of Olivia's pale a.s.s, bare and perfect, her face enveloped in one of my pillows, dark red hair spilling around her scalp like fire.

I untie my bindings and toss the useless sc.r.a.ps of silk to the floor.

My lips twist into another smirk, and I'm tempted to stick another business card between Olivia's cheeks. Instead, I rise to my feet and grab the crimson throw that's draped over a nearby chair, spreading it open across Olivia's back and leaving her to dream the rest of the day away in my bed.

I stretch my legs out and grumble in my sleep, turning onto my back with a sigh as I crack my eyes open and try to figure out what the flickering lights are around me. Is someone shining a flashlight into my window again? It's happened before, believe it or not. Some guy in the townhouse across from mine was convinced I was having an affair with his wife. Yes, you heard me right. I said hi to the woman once and helped her carry in some groceries. A week later, this guy is shining a light in my bedroom window from across the way, some ridiculously high-powered army flashlight he got off the Internet, determined to catch us in the act with a pair of binoculars clutched in his hand. Needless to say, things didn't pan out well for the man. His wife left him for some twenty-something from the San Francis...o...b..llet, and yes, she was indeed a woman.

I roll onto my side and pray that the lights will go away, so I can get back to sleep. Only they don't. I start to realize that the soft glow I'm experiencing from behind my eyelids is nothing at all like the army flashlight that left me so bamboozled that I broke a lamp in my haste to get out of bed. It's ... gentle. Like fireflies on a starry night. Well, okay, so I've never actually seen fireflies in real life (that particular variety doesn't exist in the Bay Area), but I imagine if they did the effect of their light would be something like this.

"d.a.m.n you downtown San Fran," I groan as I blink open my eyes and find ... Lex Lyndon's face staring straight back at me. I seriously have to stifle back a scream when he cracks his gray eyes open and smiles. Holy macaroni, what the h.e.l.l is he doing here? I sit up with a grunt and look around to find that not only is Lex lying in bed next to me, but that the actual bed where we're doing all that lying around is not mine.

Oh.

That's right.

I'm in Lex Lyndon's house, in his bedroom, lying stark f.u.c.king naked in his bed.

The strange flickering glow? Candles. Dozens of them perfuming the air with the gentle scent of orange and cinnamon, a toast to the fall weather that's rolling in across the city. I look around the room, at the white curtains to my left, the darkness escaping in between them. When I came over here, it was early afternoon. Now it's ... night.

"Wow. I ... " Used your c.o.c.k like a d.i.l.d.o, came on you, then collapsed and fell asleep. Now if that's not attractive, I don't know what is. "I'm sorry," I say, shaking my head and attempting to run my fingers through my damp, tangled hair. "I didn't mean to stay over. Ugh." I pull the blanket up against my bare chest and scoot another inch or so away from Lex.

"No apologies required," he says, propping himself up on an elbow and looking so G.o.dd.a.m.n gorgeous that it should be illegal. His short, dark hair is mussed up, and his face is sleepy and relaxed. The covers have fallen away from his chest and belly, giving me a nice long uninterrupted view of that lean, muscular body of his. My mouth waters as I remember the water hitting Lex's skin in the shower, beading on those perfect lines, highlighting the masculine perfection of his form. I can't get the scene out of my head, no matter how many times I try to blink it away. My brain wants to plaster that image behind my eyelids, the one I got when I glanced up, his c.o.c.k in my mouth, and saw him biting that silken tie in s.e.xually frustrated bliss. O. M. G. I feel the sudden desperate urge to get up and go, go, go.

"I should leave," I say, swinging my legs off the edge of the bed. I glance back at Lex as he shifts and a frown teases the edges of his perfect lips. I have no idea why he lit all these candles, or let me sleep so long, and there's a strange pitter-patter in my chest that says I don't want to know. Definitely time to leave and never, ever come back. It was fun while it lasted. I start to stand up, but Lex reaches out a hand and takes hold of my upper arm.

"You should stay," he says, his voice a low purr that send shivers down my spine. I stare back at him and try to figure out how to respond to that. My usual excuse that I have work in the morning might not go over so well here. I mean, for one, Lex is the boss. And two, I'm not even sure I want to go back to the office. I can't keep up this back and forth thing we have going on forever and now that we've slept together? Talk about awkward.

I feel my lips purse.

Then again, Lex inadvertently lost me my job at Oceanstar. Since Lara's in on his secret, maybe he could talk to her and they could work something out, something that involves me getting that other job. Jesus. When did my life get so complicated? Oh, that's right since Lex stormed into the lunch room with a purple face and a bad att.i.tude, that's when.

"I can order us in some food, and we can continue to explore your abilities as a top." Lex forces this word off his tongue like it's a solid object, making me cringe and grit my teeth.

"Lex, just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm your ... mistress or whatever. We're just two, reasonable adults enjoying one another s.e.xually. Besides, I suck as a dominatrix anyway."

"Your personality is enough," Lex tells me, sitting up all the way, blankets falling to pool around his hips. "You hardly need fancy tricks. Your backbone and your att.i.tude are enough for me." My stomach knots into a painful twist.

"That's ... great. I'm sorry you've never heard a woman tell you to f.u.c.k off before. Now, I really should get going." This is one of those times where I wish I had a cat, then I could say I had to go home, so I could feed it. If Lex hadn't already finagled his way into my place, I could've lied about it. Jerk.

"Oli," he says, and his use of my nickname is enough to cause me to hesitate, glancing over my shoulder at the man scooting towards me on the bed. He looks like a wild animal right now, like his body's moving too fluidly to be human. Yikes. When Lex leans in and brushes hair away from my neck, I shiver. "You said it yourself: we're already here, in this situation, so we may as well put it to good use." Lex kisses my shoulder and then slides his fingers along the bare skin of my back, making for the blanket that's wrapped around my front. When he gets there and tries to dive beneath it towards my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, I grab his wrist with my right hand.

"Why did you light candles?" I ask him, feeling annoyed for some reason I can't logically explain. I don't do well with romance, not even faux, s.e.xually driven bouts of romance. I haven't had a serious boyfriend or any boyfriend really for that matter since high school. Casual dalliances and one-night stands are my thing. I definitely don't make a habit of falling asleep in the beds of strangers. Only ... Lex doesn't feel like a stranger. I'm not sure what he is, but that definitely isn't it. He tries to pull me back, and I let him, if only because the atmosphere in here is so peaceful, so quiet. The candles now that I know what they are are relaxing, and the bed is soft and I really could go for some takeout.

"I like the smell," he admits which I find refreshingly ... honest.

"Huh." I take another breath and realize that the scent I've been getting of off Lex isn't just cologne or bodywash, it's this. I lay back on the bed with one of Lex's warm hands splayed open on my belly, the other tucked under his head as he relaxes into the pillows next to me. We're not ... like, snuggling or something are we? I glance over at him and find that we're staring at each other again. We keep eye contact for an entire minute before I decide to break the silence. "Does this count as snuggling?" Lex blinks at me and then twists his mouth into one of those annoying man grins. You know the ones I'm talking about, the ones they always get after s.e.x when they look over at you and think stupid things like mine. Eww. This is why I usually leave after I'm done. I give Lex a return smirk that I hope also indicates possession and refuse to relinquish it until he does.

Neither of us gives in and I realize how stupid we must look smirking at one another in silence like this.

"Because that's not my thing," I tell Lex and he grunts in acknowledgment. More silence, more staring, neither of us bothers to move. I wonder if he's as naked under these blankets as I am? I find my tongue sliding across my lower lip and Lex imitates the motion. He's right, I guess. I mean, he's my billionaire boss, so there's a really, really good chance that he's not a serial killer. I could probably stay a little while longer without fear that he's going to ask me to put the lotion on my skin.

"Not mine either," he admits, which I can believe. Obviously his style is to f.u.c.k and conquer, sneer, take control of the women he's with. And that is definitely not my thing. I tap my fingers against my thigh and enjoy the warmth emanating from Lex's body. I wonder what might have happened between us, if, instead of screaming at me on that Friday, if he'd walked into my office and asked me to dinner. It's an interesting thought.

I roll towards him, admiring the way the candlelight shadows his cheeks, makes his face look sharp and handsome while his lips stay soft. My right hand slides over and comes to rest on his belly. I watch as Lex's muscles tighten against the touch and he draws in a harsh breath. I push my fingers downward and find him erect and ready for me. My lady parts send up a cheer, waving the flag of triumph and thanking me for the opportunity. It's a rare occasion that I get to have this much s.e.x in such a short time period. Maybe I should have Lex sign a contract promising to be my permanent d.i.l.d.o for the next six months and see how he likes that?

I stroke him gently for a few moments, focusing on the dance of emotions that slide across his face. I can tell just from that that he really isn't used to letting anyone else take the reigns, especially not in the bedroom.

I pull my hand away and search around for a condom. There's still a small mound of them on the nightstand where I left them. One more quickie and I'll go home and that'll be that. Tomorrow, when I wake up, I'll decide if I want to go back to Lyndon Realty Trust or not.

"On your back," I tell Lex, opening the package and watching as he slides down in the pillows and leans his head against them. A smirk is dancing around his lips again, and I find myself determined to f.u.c.k it off. I yank the covers back and slip the condom on his c.o.c.k, turning around and swinging my leg over his body.

"What are you up to now?" he asks me, but I ignore him, sitting up and guiding him where I need him to be.

"Using your best a.s.set to my benefit," I tell him, glancing over my shoulder at the arrogant look that's still lingering on his face. "Reverse cowgirl. All the better to not see you with, my dear." I lower myself onto Lex's c.o.c.k with a moan, enjoying the sharp feeling of him entering me when I'm still tight and warming up. It's okay like this because I'm in control. I get to decide how deep and how fast and how hard. I use the muscles in my legs to control the rhythm, using a gentle up and down motion until I'm wet enough to slide deeper. Lex takes hold of my hips, but I decide to let him for the time being, focusing on using my right hand to stimulate my c.l.i.t.

I gyrate my hips from side to side and in circles, letting his c.o.c.k touch every part of me before arching my back and giving him access to my G-spot. Lex must like what he sees because he helps me move my hips, thrusting his up to meet me until we're grinding together in a hot, wet frenzy.

"Say my name," I tell him, drawing up that image of him in his office, masturbating to me, moaning my name like I was a G.o.ddess and he, nothing but a useless f.u.c.king peon. Oh my f.u.c.king G.o.d, that turns me on. "Say my f.u.c.king name, Lex."

"Olivia," he growls out, his fingers tightening as I drop my left hand down and ma.s.sage his b.a.l.l.s, squeezing them tight in my fingers, testing out his threshold for pain as I increase the intensity of my grip. "Olivia." I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning his name right back at him. If he wants to hear that, he'll have to work for it.

Uh.

I mean, since this is the last time we're ever going to be having s.e.x, he really has to prove to me that he deserves a treat like that. Since we're never doing it again. Like, ever. If I've learned anything in my romantic and s.e.xual escapades, it's that you shouldn't sleep with the same person more than a few times or the situation gets sticky. Lex and I here are on time number ... three, I think. Four if you count the number of o.r.g.a.s.ms he'll have given me. That's two times too many for my usual rule.

I let my head fall back and know exactly what I must look like with my red hair trailing over my shoulders, my a.s.s moving against his crotch, our pelvises grinding together as I slide him against my G-spot and rub my c.l.i.t to the same tempo.

I wait for him to grunt my name and arch his hips up, to spill himself inside the condom and collapse before I finish myself with my hand, teasing my c.l.i.t between two fingers and making sure I'm careful not to lean too far forward. Believe it or not, you really can break a dude's manhood.

I groan and slide myself off of Lex, my body twitching with that overwhelming sense of satisfaction that comes after the storm, when the wave of pleasure breaks and rides you so hard you can barely breathe. I roll over and manage to flip myself around, so that my head is lying on Lex's sweaty chest. One of his arms slides underneath me and pulls me close, pressing the lines of our panting bodies closer together.

"What we did before," Lex confirms in that rolling ooze of s.e.x that always comes out of his mouth when he's talking and not being an a.s.shole (which is not often), "was not snuggling. This on the other hand ... " His voice trails off and my eyelids flutter, suddenly too tired to care what he's saying. I'm one of those people who get tired after s.e.x. According to Maxi, it energizes her, and she can't wait to leap out of bed and start cleaning or organizing or going for a run. Not me. I fully intend to get up, go home, forget about Lex Lyndon.

Instead, I fall asleep in his arms.

"Wha-?"

I snap to alertness, face raising up from a pillow that spells like cinnamon and spices, eyes blinking at the thin shafts of sunlight streaming into the room. There's a very unattractive string of drool connecting my face to said pillow. I wipe it away with the back of my hand and sit up straight, orienting myself to my surroundings.

Chateau de Lex Lyndon.

I spent the night, d.a.m.n it. I wasn't supposed to spend the night. I groan and cover my face with my hands. Down below, the lady parts ask if Lex is available, and I tell them to shut the f.u.c.k up. Truth be told, I'm a little sore. Lex is actually quite a bit bigger than my favorite wand attachment at home. It's a good soreness, a satisfying ache that says yes, ma'am, I just got f.u.c.king laid. I pull my hands away from my eyes and glance over at Lex's side of the bed.

Well.

Interesting choice of words that. Let me rephrase it: the side of the bed in which Lex slept last night and not his side in that we have sides because anything is actually happening here. I've known the man for two years, but he only met me last week. Plus, he's a d.i.c.k. A mega, super commando ultra d.i.c.k.

My eyes catch on the stack of papers sitting on the pillow.

"No," I whisper conspiratorially which is silly since Lex doesn't seem to be around. I figure he's in the shower or something and scoot over towards the pillow and the stack of questionable white eight-and-a-half-by-elevens. "He didn't. He so did f.u.c.king not. No." I pick up the wad and realize that there are actually two wads. I pick up the smaller one from the bed and feel my lips twitch in frustrated amus.e.m.e.nt.

Test results from Lex's doctor, dated about two and a half weeks ago. What kind of test results, you might ask. Take a wild guess.

"Negative, negative, negative, negative," I read, flipping the page and scanning words that make my insides twist and my stomach hurt. These are the reasons I decided not to go all National Geographic and bang Lex's a.s.s without a condom. Fortunately for him, though, he doesn't seem to have a single one of them. There's always the concern that the test is two plus weeks old, and he could've caught something between then and now, but guess what? I'm a responsible adult woman and I have no problem talking to my partner about this s.h.i.t.

I let the pages flutter together and toss them aside with a cringe. Talk to him? Why should I be talking to him? We're done here. Lex is hardly my partner, s.e.xual or otherwise, just my a.s.shole boss. Maybe. If I decide to go into work today. Lovely of him to leave me his STD test results, but I'm not about to go leaping into the shower to join him.

Especially after I pick up the other stack of papers.

My lips thin and my blood boils.

The contract.

The stupid, f.u.c.king, c.o.c.k sucking, piece of s.h.i.t, G.o.dd.a.m.n contract.

"Lex!" I shout, standing up and taking the crimson blanket and the stack of offensive legal jargon with me. Don't even know how he managed to cook this s.h.i.t up or how he thought it might hold up in court if I did accept. Prost.i.tution is still illegal as far as I know, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Paying someone for s.e.x const.i.tutes prost.i.tution whether or not the man wants his a.s.s beat or vice versa not even if he's paying in the millions. I imagine Lex has carefully twisted some sort of ridiculous English wordplay for his own devices. I bet even the moms would find it difficult to pick apart this stupid contract.

I open the door to the bathroom and find ... no Lex.

Hmm.

I drop the blanket and slip on the boxers he left me along with the white shirt, my bra, and even the stupid tie. I have no idea why he brought it in here for me, but it makes me feel more dressed up to put it on, so I do.

"Lex?" I shout, wandering around the house in a daze. It really is a beautiful piece of property, nothing at all like I imagined for Lex. In my mind's eye, I saw him in some sterile condo above the office, smack dab in the center of the financial district with metal furniture and black accents, a single piece of art featuring a broken typewriter, and one potted ficus tree for greenery. Instead, Lex has flashed me a bit of vibrant personality with his colorful walls and bright, light antique furniture. His house is such a stark contrast to the desolate, barren wasteland of his office that it makes my head spin. It's the same thing with his dark suits and his colorful ties. Ties that I'll never be able to stare at again without imagining them wrapped around his face, breaking those beautiful lips apart with a slash of vibrant red. I shiver as I pause in the doorway to the dining room. Lex's table is a stunning piece that I'm tempted to shove in the trunk of my Lexus and take home with me. If it'd fit, I might have very well done just that. A long thick piece of knotted wood stretches across the room with big metal studs in the sides and a set of perfectly mismatched chairs, arranged just so.

"I'm jealous," I mutter as I study the unique details of the table legs, the clawed feet that resemble a dragon's talons. Masculine but not pretentious or barbaric. Huh. He probably had a decorator take care of all this for him. I try not to be impressed, moving over to the front window and gazing out at the street. My car is gone.

I wrinkle my brow and move back towards the kitchen with its mosaic gla.s.s tile backsplash in vibrant red, the white marble countertops, Sub-Zero refrigerator, Wolf range with the red k.n.o.bs. Maxi would be in heaven right now. Cooking is her "pa.s.sionate hobby" she says, something she loves so much she could never do it as a job. She says every chef she's ever talked to says they wish they hadn't made it their career. I know nothing about cooking, so I can't say if that's true or not, but the thought does remind me of something else.

Somebody spilled the beans.

G.o.d, please don't let it be Maxi. I trust that girl with my life, and I really, really don't want to know how I'll react if I find out she blabbed. I take a deep breath and glance at the clock on the wall.

It's half past noon.

"Holy f.u.c.king s.h.i.t!" Not only am I late for work, but apparently I was also exhausted. I don't sleep in this late, I just don't. Especially not at the houses of a.s.shole CEO pig bosses. "d.a.m.n it." I sprint back to the bathroom and grab my phone, knowing full well that there will be missed calls on it most of them from Maxi. There are. And a couple from the moms, too. My guess? Maxi couldn't find me yesterday afternoon and freaked out, called my parents to make sure I wasn't lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Oops.

I dial them up first because to be honest, I'm afraid to talk to Maxi. I can't find out that she betrayed me or I will go insane. I decide to try June's phone because she always leaves it on the edge of her desk when she's writing. Carol's an environmental lawyer and a h.e.l.l of a lot harder to get in touch with during the workday.

"Oli, you're alive," she says, but not like she was really worried. "Maxi will be happy to hear that." I listen to the clatter of keys in the background and wonder what she's writing about today. Perhaps the importance of leafy greens in the daily diet? Nah. Too tame for her. More than likely she's writing about the benefits of turning lawns into gardens or the dangers of industrial agriculture.

"Yeah, um, sorry about that. I ... left the office early yesterday."

"Not the office I was expecting you to be at," she says, her keys clicking merrily away. I can imagine her with her brown hair pulled up into a bun at the back of her head, her phone crushed between her ear and shoulder. A gla.s.s of homemade kombucha will be sitting to her left (told you my moms are hippies) while a bowl of pretzels rests untouched in her lap. My mother is a creature of habit. She's been writing the same way for years. Occasionally, small things will change the pretzels will become dried apple chips or peanuts or something but for the most part, everything remains the same. "What on earth happened yesterday that would put you back at Lyndon Realty Trust?" If Mother's asking that question, it means Maxi didn't tell her about Lex and my romp in the elevator which helps alleviate some of my fears that she's the office rat. If she didn't even tell my moms that, why would she tell Lara Caliper about the contract?

"I, uh, it's complicated." The moms can sense lies, so I decide not to even try to explain. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm alive and well and looking forward to Craig's commitment celebration ceremony on Friday." I wrinkle my nose as I say the words, knowing how stupid they sound.

"Excellent. I will text your mom and let her know. We figured when both you and your boss disappeared from the office that things were more than just okay. How was the s.e.x? I a.s.sume you finally made it that far."

"Mother!" I shout because come on, no matter how 'cool' one's parents are, it's never fun to discuss the dirty dance with them. "Seriously?"

"Fine. Fine. Don't tell me. I don't even want to know. You might want to call Maxi though. When you didn't show up for work this morning, she called us again in a panic. She even stopped by your place about," June pauses, "a half an hour ago to see if you were there. When she called me again, I told her you were probably at Lex's place."

"Mother!"

"Call your friend before she has a panic attack. I'll see you on Friday and we'll talk then. I have to go. I'm late for a deadline." June hangs up before I get a chance to sputter and deny her accusations with vehemency that will only further confirm she knows the truth. I sigh and lean back against the counter, rubbing my forehead with two fingers. Great. Now everybody in my life will know I slept with Lex. Oh, pride and dignity! You can go ahead and move out now. I no longer deserve you. I scowl at the beautiful hardwood floors beneath my feet.

"I'm an adult woman. I can sleep with whoever I want. Who cares what anybody else thinks?" My words are true, but my intent is a little skewed. See, it's not everybody else I'm worried about: it's me. It's what I think that bothers me.

I dial Maxi's phone, cringing when she answers on the first ring with a violent gasp.

"Olivia Olsen Ashcraft! Where the f.u.c.k have you been?"

"I, uh " Maxi gasps again.

"You didn't!" I crinkle my eyebrows together.

"Didn't what?" I ask indignantly.

"I KNEW IT!" she screams, and I cringe a little. "The second I saw Lex Lyndon saunter in here looking like the cat that got the cream, I knew it. You did, didn't you? You slept with that monster."

"Maxi," she interrupts me in typical Maxi Madison Heath fashion.

"You f.u.c.ked the boss. I knew it. I didn't want to know it, but I did. When he stormed into your office and then suddenly you were just gone, and I looked everywhere for you, and there were rumors of a couple f.u.c.king in the parking garage."