Moon Mad E-Book

Rose Renee

• Herausgeber: Midnight Romance
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Rule #2 of Wall Street: Never show weakness
An alpha must protect his pack. Weakness isn’t an option. 
Neither is the beautiful human who turned my world upside down.
But she is my obsession, I won't let her go.
I’m feral with the need to possess her. To consume her.
Mating a human would destroy everything I've fought for: 
My business, my pack, my family. 
But I can't resist this forbidden attraction. 
And if I don't claim her soon, I'll succumb to moon madness--
a fate worse than death.

Leseprobe

Big Bad Boss

Moon Mad

Werewolves of Wall Street

Book 2

Renee Rose

Lee Savino

Midnight Romance Publishing

Copyright © March 2024 Big Bad Boss: Moon Mad by Renee Rose and Lee Savino

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Published in the United States of America

Midnight Romance, LLC

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

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Chapter One

Madi

I trek through the woods, fresh snow crunching under my feet. The sun shines, refracting on the snow to make a billion tiny diamonds. I’m having a Dr. Zhivago moment, stunned by the beauty of the ice and nature-made snow sculptures all around me. I stop to investigate an icicle hanging from a tree, but a low growl makes me freeze.

I whirl to find I’m surrounded by a half-dozen giant wolves–snarling, angry, probably hungry wolves.

They advance on me slowly, their big paws sinking into the snow with each step. The largest one–the tan one with a black streak running from chin to chest leaps at me, and I scream–

I kick off the bedcovers.

A strong arm bands around me. “Hey,” a deep familiar voice reaches me, and the forest fades to a bedroom.

I jerk awake with a gasp.

“You okay?” Brick spoons me, his large body molded around mine.

“Oh my God.” I sit up, shoving my hair from my face. We’re in the guest room in the Berkshires. I can’t tell what time it is. “I dreamt wolves were chasing me in a snowstorm.”

Brick sits up, too, and I tug the sheet up to my armpits, suddenly aware I’m naked in a bed with my billionaire boss.

“Come here.” He hauls me into his lap, cradled sideways, my shoulders leaning back against one of his arms, my knees across his lap.

I’m shocked he wants to cuddle. Is this still a dream? I can’t seem to orient myself.

He tugs down the sheet and cups one of my breasts, like my body belongs to him. “I’m sorry about the wolves. And the blizzard. And for driving you out into it.”

I lift my brows. “Wow. Another apology? That’s two trophies I’m having made.”

He brushes a thumb across one of my nipples, and I relax into him at the sensual touch.

“Has anyone ever been attacked by wolves on your property before?”

“No. They don’t attack humans.”

“Oh, they were going to attack me.” The memory of the wolves surrounding me comes back, only now it’s muddled by the dream. Which one was real? I’m not usually so confused.

“Tell me what happened.” Brick is still toying with my nipple. There’s a familiarity between us like we’re long-time lovers.

“I was out in the blizzard. I thought I heard you calling me, so I tried to yell back, but my voice was giving out. I found a branch to bang against a tree to make noise.”

“That was good thinking.”

“Then suddenly, there were six wolves surrounding me, howling. One of them even came at me.”

Brick seems to stiffen. Finally he’s actually giving my experience some credence. “Came at you, how?”

“It came right up to me and almost sat on my foot.”

He relaxes. “That doesn’t sound aggressive, Windows. Was it showing you fangs? Growling?”

“Well, no.”

“What did it look like?”

“It was huge. Tan with black markings. It had a streak of black that ran from chin to chest.” I draw a line down my throat to show him.

Brick relaxes some more. “A female?”

“I don’t know. Are you familiar with these wolves?”

“Oh, I know them. That pack has been in these woods longer than any human.”

“And no one’s ever been eaten?”

“Never.” He sounds amused. Like me being afraid of wolves is a cute quirk of mine and not a legit danger. “It sounds to me like the wolf was trying to comfort you. Have you ever had a dog come and sit against your leg? It’s a sign of solidarity.”

I wrinkle my brow and give him a quick glance. “I don’t think so.” Now I’m not so sure. Was the wolf really going to attack me? Maybe I was confused.

Brick pinches my nipple and flips me onto my back. I’m instantly wet. Totally ready. “You don’t have to be afraid of the big, bad wolf.” He straddles my waist and pins my wrists to the bed as he nips the soft side of my breast.

I gasp and arch into him. “Just the Big, Bad Boss?”

“Definitely him.” He swirls his tongue around my nipple.

I grip his head, running my fingers through his hair. “Am I still in trouble?”

“So much.” His voice is gravelly with lust. “I’m going to fuck you into submission, Windows.”

I arch. “Won’t happen,” I choke, but my hips roll beneath him, seeking firm contact.

“The submission or the fucking?”

I spread my legs, and our hips line up. “Submission.”

* * *

I wake up on the edge of an orgasm. This time there’s no confusion. I’m not in bed with Brick Blackthroat in the Berkshires because I left there Thanksgiving night.

I’m horny, alone, and in my childhood bedroom at my mom’s place.

Apparently, the dream within a dream was my subconscious working overtime to process what happened over Thanksgiving.

I’m sure part of the problem was the way I left.

After Thanksgiving dinner, I was expecting–or maybe just hoping for–another round with the Big Bad Boss. Instead, he disappeared outside with his buddies, and then Billy showed up to tell me that the weather had cleared, and John had readied the helicopter.

That was it. No closure. No goodbye. I just get hustled out to the helipad by the guy who seems to despise me, and then I’m back in the city in time for pumpkin pie with my mom and brother.

Apparently, as soon as the storm cleared, it was time for “the help” to leave.

I haven’t heard a word from Brick–or maybe I should go back to thinking of him as Blackthroat–since.

I really need to talk to Aubrey. We’ve texted, but I need a full convo with the bestie. I pick up my phone and call.

“Oh my God, girl, tell me everything!” That’s how she answers. Because my short texts–I didn’t quit and Slept with the boss–were not nearly enough information. She and her mom are in New Jersey with her aunt and uncle for the holiday.

“Ugh. I don’t know where to start.”

Aubrey instantly sobers. “Wait, I thought things were good. What happened?”

Tears sting the back of my eyes. “They were good.” The memory of Brick spooning me to warm my body, apologizing, and the mad, crazy sex flood my brain with remembered pleasure. But then there was getting sent home without so much as a goodbye. “So I texted you about me getting lost in the storm and the sexy times.”

“Right.”

“And then I stayed for Thanksgiving dinner, which was weird and awkward, but not because of me–at least I don’t think. Because Brick and his mom don’t get along, and his sister invited her. Supposedly he was a dick to me partly because he didn’t want me to see his fucked up family.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. But then right after Thanksgiving dinner, he and all his dude-bros go outside and talk, and then he disappears. The next thing I know, Billy White comes in and says the weather cleared enough to get me home for Thanksgiving, but I had to leave right then.”

“Okay.”

“I asked where Brick was, but he said he’d gone for a run, which was obviously a lie because who goes for a run in the dark with a full stomach when it’s freezing out?”

“Oh, shit.”

“I know.”

“So what did you do?”

“So I left! I mean, I obviously didn’t belong there. Clearly they didn’t want me there, or they wouldn’t be rushing me off.”

“Or maybe they just thought you wanted to spend Thanksgiving with your own family and were trying to get you there considering you’d already sacrificed most of your holiday for work.”

Huh. Aubrey, the voice of reason.

“Yeah, maybe.” I know I can be touchy about the class-difference thing. Did I make it all up?

No, I don’t think so. But now I’m not sure.

“So how was the sex?” Aubrey puts a suggestive purr in her voice, steering me back to the good part.

“Ah-mazing. Insane. Incredible.”

“So you got something out of it. That’s good.”

“I did…but I don’t think I should do it again.”

“Why not?”

“It feels too dangerous. I don’t want to catch feelings because I already know how these things end.”

“Wait, whoa. What does that mean?”

“I mean there’s no way I’m ever going to actually end up with a guy like Brick Blackthroat. People may dally outside their social strata, but that’s all it is. A dalliance.”

“So you’re saying because you’re not going to marry this guy, you can’t enjoy some hot sex and helicopter rides?”

Something twists beneath my ribs. I don’t want to give up any of it.

But I have to. It would only end in disaster. And I’m not the type to take risks when I know they won’t pay off.

“No more sex with the boss,” I say firmly.

“Okay,” Aubrey agrees. “I say you keep torturing him. Wear the dresses and withhold sex. He’ll go nuts.”

Somehow, that doesn’t feel right either.

I don’t want to withhold anything from Brick Blackthroat.

But that is my most dangerous thought of all.

I end the call with Aubrey and throw on a robe to pad out to the kitchen where my mom and Brayden are demolishing the Sunday crossword. I stand over their shoulders, offering answers to the remaining clues.

“Bruh, it’s no fun when you’re around,” Brayden grumbles. “Between you and Mom, it goes too fast.”

My mom, who has a PhD in literature, kicks butt at the New York Times crosswords, but Brayden and I can hold our own. I guess all of us enjoy a challenge.

“What was the Blackthroat estate like?” Brayden asks between bites of leftover pecan pie.

“I didn’t see the property because of the blizzard, but the cottage was built in the Gilded Age. It’s a forty-four room mansion with giant stone fireplaces and ornate carved wood trim.” I got some of those details from Brick’s mom, Catherine, when we chatted in the living room.

My mom’s lips turn down with judgment. Sometimes I forget where I get my love-hate relationship with money. My mom is one of those people, like Aubrey, who believe all rich people are greedy, environment-destroying, anti-socialist assholes who make their money by stomping on the backs of the underprivileged. I know her relationship with my biological father contributed greatly to that view.

I’ve embraced that philosophy for the most part, except I also secretly enjoy money. I like my new six-figure salary–although I’m regretting asking him to double it. His entire executive team now knows that I’ve slept with him, so getting a hundred thousand dollar raise probably won’t sit well with any of them.

My pride would be wounded having people think I slept my way to a raise rather than worked my ass off for it.

I did like wearing a twenty thousand dollar gown to a charity ball, even though it wasn’t me. It was fun to play the part for the night. To ride in the limo and the helicopter. All of it has been fun to experience, even if it’s just to laugh and make fun of the rich behind their backs. I’m not bedazzled by Blackthroat’s wealth, but I definitely enjoy the perks.

I guess there’s something inauthentic about my own relationship with money. A conflict I haven’t figured out how to resolve. I try to remind myself that money isn’t real. It is power Blackthroat and the old bluebloods wield, and power can be abused or used for good. Rejecting it altogether doesn’t fix or resolve social injustice or disparities between the classes.

“I can’t believe you just ordered up his helicopter. Are you allowed to use it for other things?”

“No. God no. I only did it because it was an emergency. Blackthroat was definitely pissed. Although I guess he was more mad about how dangerous it was with the blizzard than the liberties I took ordering it.”

My mom goes still and stares at me with a look of alarm.

Crap on a cracker. Now she probably suspects there’s something more to our relationship than assistant-boss.

“Only because it meant I got stranded there and had to join his family for Thanksgiving,” I add quickly. As I say the words that I know will reassure and redirect my mom, I realize how much her thinking influenced me in that moment when Blackthroat blew up at me. That was the conclusion I jumped to, rather than the one in which my boss secretly cared about my safety and was cranky that I put myself in danger.

But maybe the latter is just a Cinderella fantasy. It’s honestly hard for me to discern which statement is more true. I’m too involved in this situation to trust my own sense of deduction and logic.

“Yeah, how was that?” Brayden asks.

“Awkward. Super awkward. I’m glad to be home.” Sort of.

Obviously, Brick wanted me gone. This was nothing but a fling. Sure, we got close for one second, but in the end, we’re from different worlds. He’s a billionaire. I’m the help. We’re boss-employee. His family home over the holidays was no place for me to be.

So, I left the Berkshires–and not because Billy White ran me out. I left because I knew it was the safest choice for my heart. Developing any expectations of Blackthroat that can be easily dashed is a recipe for disaster. And I’m far too careful a planner for foibles like that.

Tomorrow, I plan to go in and pretend nothing ever happened. Back to being the perfect assistant to the big bad boss.

* * *

Brick

My private sports club is a lot like any other upscale gym, with one main difference. Everyone here is a shifter.

There’s a werelion in the corner, swinging a kettlebell. Another two shifters–one smelling like a cat and the other like a bull or maybe buffalo–spotting each other at the bench press.

And a werebear in the boxing ring across from me.

The air is thick and humid with the scent of shifters and good, clean sweat. The place echoes with snarls and the occasional roar.

Like the rest of the gym, the fighting ring has a rule: no animal forms allowed. If you want to let your animal out, you do so on private land. Anyone losing control like that gets kicked out. But I can feel my wolf testing my control, trying to break free.

A bell rings, and I launch myself toward my opponent. He comes out swinging. We meet in the middle of the ring, jabbing and punching while keeping light on our feet.

He sneaks a strike past my defenses, and my body rocks with the blow. Pain washes through me, and I relish it. Anything to distract from the empty feeling that’s gnawed on my insides since Thanksgiving.

My opponent is Darius Medvedev, CEO of an up-and-coming hedge fund and good friend. My top wolves–Billy, Nickel, Jake, Vance and Sully–are all members here, but I came in this morning because I knew they were already at the office. I haven’t wanted to see them since they faced me down in the snow and told me to send Madi away.

I hike back my fist and let it fly. Darius takes the punch, grunts, and gives it back as good as he gets. He’s over six feet tall and built. The perfect opponent, except my wolf wishes it were Billy in the ring.

Get rid of Madison, he said, before she brings this entire pack down.

I throw another punch and miss. I try again with a right hook, and it glances off Darius’ side.

My sisters.

Jab. Jab. Cross.

The pups.

I feint right, but Darius doesn’t fall for it.

Get rid of her.

With a roar, I rush forward and smash Darius’ face. There’s a crunch, and he staggers back, blood pouring from his nose. My wolf snarls, wanting to chase him down for the kill. I force myself back to my corner.

Darius sets his long fingers on either side of his nose and snaps the cartilage back into place. The blood has already stopped flowing. Shifters heal quickly, and if we don't set our broken bones immediately, they'll heal wrong. Nothing worse than breaking your leg, limping back home only for your dad to chew you out while the pack healer breaks it again.

My father knew I had to be tough and strong. He knew that I'd be in an arena just like this fighting for my life everyday. I just didn't realize I would have to fight my best friends.

You need to get rid of her.

Billy only said what needed to be said. I did my duty and had him send Madi away. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to go after her and destroy anyone who stands in my way.

“Dude,” Darius calls. “I don't know if you realize this, but your eyes have been glowing for the past five minutes. Your wolf is showing.”

Fuck. I turn away and run my tongue over my teeth. My canines are dangerously sharp. I brace myself against the ropes and force my wolf back down. He snarls and retreats, but I don’t feel any calmer. There’s an empty ache deep in my gut.

“You want to go another round?” Darius asks.

I shake my head and glance at the giant clock fixed to the wall, a reminder that I have tens of thousands of people counting on me every second of every day. I can forget myself for a few minutes, but that’s all.

Duty. Honor. Pack. I was raised to uphold my pack’s legacy. And now I want to throw it all away. Chase after my human assistant like a smitten puppy.

And I hate myself for it. I can't be weak like this. The fate of my entire pack rests on my shoulders. They need a strong alpha to lead them. One wrong move, and the Adalwulfs will be at our throats.

Mating a human would be seen as weak. Doing so would let down my pack and my entire bloodline. My children wouldn’t inherit the throne. But at worst, Aiden would exploit the weakness, poach my pack members, and leave the Blackthroat line, including Auggie and April, exposed for a kill.

So while I’m alpha, I could never claim a human mate. And right now, things are too precarious to consider a regime change. If I stepped down, the Adalwulfs would take it as a sign of weakness, and come after us with everything they have. We barely survived my father’s death. We lost the company and only held onto the pack because my inner circle rallied around my leadership. Together we were an impenetrable force.

Things are still not stable. Right now, I’m the only one who can lead us. It’s the role I was born for. I can’t just walk away.

No matter how much I’m tempted.

Whenever I waver, I imagine my nephew Auggie. Laughing, running from his mother, tumbling down a snowy hill. If the Adalwulfs attacked, they wouldn’t be merciful. They’d slit his throat and leave him dead in the snow.

They’ve done it before. They’ve wiped whole packs off the map. My father told those horror stories around the campfire so we’d remember why the Adalwulfs are our enemies.

They’re completely ruthless, and if they see me as weak, they’ll come after us. Aiden Adalwulf could challenge me for the alpha position in another form of hostile takeover. This one with more disastrous consequences than losing billions of dollars and control of the company.

My wolf hates that I sent Madi away, but he understands. He’s as torn as I am.

At least I will still see her at work. Unless she actually did quit. After the way Billy hustled her out of the manse, I wouldn’t blame her.

“I need to get into the office.” My voice comes out a growl. The sign that my wolf is close. I dip out of the ring and trot to a nearby table stacked with clean white towels. I grab one and rub my face with it.

Darius follows.

“Good fight,” I say, and my voice sounds better.

“Thanks. You were distracted.”

I grunt.

“Is it Benson?”

“No. Benson is almost wrapped.”

“Good.” Darius tosses me a water bottle and grabs one for himself. “I heard the Adalwulfs took a chunk out of it.”

“Yeah, they grabbed a bunch of shares. When we take control, Aiden will have a vote, until we force him out.”

“Aiden Adalwulf,” Darius says slowly. “Isn’t he your cousin?”

“Yes.” Cousins, we were both ruthlessly groomed to lead a pack. The irony is Aiden Adalwulf is the one person on Earth in a position to understand the incredible pressure I’m under. Not that I’d ever admit a hint of weakness to him. One misstep, and he’d coolly slit my throat.

“You know what they’re saying about you, right?”

“Who?”

“The Adalwulfs. Their seeress has a new prophecy about you.”

I go cold. The Adalwulf pack has always had a seeress who advises the Alpha. Her prophecies have always given their pack an edge. “What?”

“Oh, you hadn’t heard? It’s something like, The Blackthroat king has a weakness. I assume that refers to you.”

The words hit me harder than any of his previous punches, but I’m careful to keep my expression blank.

The prophecy is obviously about me and Madison. Fuck.

“I need to get to the office.”

“You need to go for a run. Let your wolf out.” There’s sober concern on Darius’ face.

If I were smart, I’d take his friendly advice and head right back to the Berkshires.

But I have to see her.

* * *

Madi

Monday morning, Brick steps off the elevator looking…different. His hair is still wet, like he just showered, and he has an aggressive edge to him. Like the four-day weekend had the opposite effect of a normal man’s vacation. He definitely didn’t return relaxed.

I predict at least three people will get fired today.

Hopefully, I won’t be one of them.

His nostrils flare as he stalks in and heads straight for me.

If I were an employee less confident in my work, I’d already be packing my things in a box based on his murderous look.

But instead of tearing into me, he slams a Starbucks cup down on my desk. Well, as much as one can slam a paper cup.

The phone is ringing, so I quickly answer it while holding Blackthroat’s gaze. “Mr. Blackthroat’s office, please hold.” I press the hold button and drop the receiver into the cradle.

“Good morning, sir.” I go with smooth and professional.

Not, I-just-fucked-the-boss-this-weekend.

He glowers at me but seems short on words. Instead, he picks up the coffee cup and moves it closer to me.

I stare up at him with shock. Did he actually buy me a coffee? I rotate the cup to read the label. It’s a vanilla latte. The Big Bad Boss brought me coffee. Color me…shocked?

“I have to smell it every day,” he says dryly, like my coffee choice offends him.

I had a game plan today–to play it professional. I was prepared for him to either do the same or to act overly-familiar, at which point I would initiate a conversation about us returning to boss-employee relations.

What I didn’t plan on was this…weird…behavior.

“You’re staying.” He practically snarls it. Like we were having an argument, and this is his rebuttal.

I pick up the coffee. “You bought me a coffee to make sure I don’t quit?” As far as gestures go, it’s pretty meager, and I let that opinion leak into my tone.

“No.” He looks grim. This is definitely his you’re-getting-fired face.

Nothing makes sense this morning.

He looks down at the coffee like he has absolutely no idea how it got there. “The coffee is…” –he gives an impatient jerk of his head– “I don’t know what the coffee is for, but you’re staying. I need you–as my assistant. Understood?”

Why do I feel like I’m getting spanked by the boss instead of praised? I pride myself on reading my employer, but this morning, I’m at a complete loss.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I pick up the coffee and take a sip, holding his dark gaze. “Sir.”

Blackthroat makes a low growling sound in his throat, turns on his heel, and heads into his office without further comment.

“Thanks for the coffee, Big Bad,” I snark under my breath.

I swear I hear him say “You’re welcome” from the other side of the door, but that would be impossible because there’s no way he could hear me from in there.

I pick up the phone. “Thank you for holding, how may I help you?”

“Oh Madi, good. I’m glad you’re there. It’s Ruby Blackthroat.”

“Oh, hi! Sorry to keep you holding. Br–er, Mr. Blackthroat–just walked in.”

“I’m actually calling for you.” Ruby’s voice is warm, like we’re friends now. Like I’m not just the help anymore. “I wanted to make sure you were okay after nearly going into hypothermia on Thanksgiving.”

Well, that’s nice. At least someone in the Blackthroat family acts like a normal human being.

“I am. I’m fine, thank you. And it was great to get home in time to have pie with my family that night. Sorry I didn’t say a proper goodbye. I was sort of hustled out when there was a break in the weather.”

“Oh, I know. No need to apologize.”

“Thank you for everything–lending me your clothes, and–”

“Of course, of course,” she cuts in. “I just wanted to say…well, I’m glad Brick has you–I mean someone like you. He runs through assistants faster than I use up Post-it Notes, and I’m the queen of Post-its, so it’s nice that he can rely on you.”

Okay, now she’s acting weird, too. Am I getting fired today? What was said about me after I left?

“Oh…yes. Thanks.”

“All right. Sorry. I don’t mean to make it awkward. I was just checking to make sure you didn’t actually quit after everything that happened in the Berkshires. So… glad to hear you’re still there, and that’s all, really.”

This day is getting stranger by the moment. “Did you want to speak to Brick?”

“Yes, but I’ll call his cell later. Have a great day, Madi.”

“Thanks, Ruby, you, too.”

The moment I end the call, Blackthroat’s voice comes through on the intercom. “Madison, I need you to call a meeting–” The intercom cuts out, like he took his finger off the button. I lean forward to peer through the window to his office and see him stab the button back down. “Come to my office, Madison.”

Again, he has that pissed-as-hell tone, like I’ve really screwed up, but I can’t fathom what it’s about. But if I learned one thing over Thanksgiving, it’s that he sometimes lashes out because he cares. Like his anger over me taking a helicopter in bad weather. And his strained relationship with his mother.

“Of course, sir.” I get up from my desk and remember what Aubrey said. Just because I decided I won’t have sex with him again doesn’t mean I can’t torture the guy. I put a little extra swing in my step as I sashay into his office. I’m in a forest green sweater with a criss-cross collar and an opening that frames my decolletage. I wore knee-high boots beneath my pencil skirt. Every day I get better at walking in heels. I stop inside the door and lean my hip against the wall.

“Yes, sir?”

He casts me a dark look, his gaze sweeping up and down my outfit, lingering on the boots, and then on the window to my breasts.

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Odd for a man who usually cuts right to the point. “Bring me one of those waters,” he commands.

I would swear he just came up with that on the spot. Like he wasn’t sure why he called me into his office and then made up a reason.

Could it be my boss is as conflicted about what happened between us over the weekend as I am?

“Of course,” I say smoothly, pushing off the wall and gliding—as well as I can glide in heels—to the kitchen refrigerator to fetch him the fancy water in a glass bottle that he likes.

When I return, I set it on his desk without opening it. Lord knows, I remember what happened last time when I tried to unscrew it while walking in heels.

Brick draws in a long breath as I stand beside him, his nostrils flaring.

“Anything else?” I breeze, my voice holding the same notes of pleasant attentiveness it held on the day he hired me. As if nothing at all has changed what we are to each other.

The pen between Brick’s fingers snaps. Literally snaps. I don’t know how that’s even possible without using both hands.

It wasn’t some plastic Bic pen either. It was one of those sleek metal pens that cost one hundred and twenty-eight dollars. I know because I order them for him.

“Open it,” he commands, his voice deep and gruff.

What the hell? Is he just getting off on bossing me around right now? If we were still playing our games, I would be up for it, but I’m too raw from Thanksgiving. From getting close to him, seeing the personal side of him—his family, his wounds—and then getting hustled out the back entrance like the servant that I am. Not hearing a word from him for the rest of the weekend.

I normally pride myself on keeping it together, keeping a facade up when I’m supposed to be professional, but I finally break. After smoothing my walls up all weekend, he just cracked one down again.

“Are you trying to get me to quit again?” I snap.

“No!” The word explodes out of him, almost as if he’s alarmed.

He snatches my wrist, tugging me closer before releasing it again, as if I scalded him. “No,” he repeats. He clears his throat. “Never mind.” His tone is back to professional. “You can go.”

Oh no. I can’t go. Not without actually addressing what’s between us. This is too weird.

“Listen, about this weekend⁠—“

Brick’s gaze snaps to my face, and I definitely see conflict in his stormy eyes.

“Things are getting too… confusing. Or…complicated. I think we should just keep it professional from here on out.”

“Right.” He looks like he bit into a rotten plum. “I had, uh, concluded the same thing.”

I hold my head a little higher. “Good.” I point at the water bottle. “So open your own water from now on. We wouldn’t want me to reenact my soak and grope from my first week.”

Brick chokes on a mirthless laugh. “Maybe that’s what I was hoping for.” Suddenly he’s real again. His shoulders relax, and some of the storm leaves his face. “You got me.”

Okay. Cool. I guess he was as conflicted as I was, and I just straightened things out. I toss him a knowing smile as I turn and strut out.

We can do this. We can totally keep things professional.

I feel back on solid ground. Brick just handed me the power by acknowledging he’s still attracted to me. Aubrey was right. I can keep up the torture. I have the upper hand here.

I’m not going to lose my head or my heart to my billionaire boss.

Score another one for the assistant.