The Boss(hole) by Penelope Bloom
Adrian
Part of playing the role of “Adrian White” was pretending I still needed to fly commercial. Forget the private jet I had waiting in hangar and the pilot I still had on my personal payroll. That life had been on hold for nearly a year. As far as anyone knew, Adrian Terranova was simply off enjoying his billions on a private island somewhere, probably drowning in pussy.
If I was being honest, I wasn’t even sure Adrian Terranova really existed anymore. I’d spent ten years taking fake names and pretending to be someone I wasn’t in pursuit of my revenge. Some nights, I wondered who would be there looking back in the mirror when this was all over, and I put Adrian White to rest. Because the old me wasn’t the hardass I’d become. But those were questions to worry about when the time came. I’d come this far, and all I needed to do was hold on a little while longer.
A woman over the intercom let us know first class could board, and I got up quickly. I was meeting my team in New Orleans at the conference, so Princess Jules, as I’d begun to think of her, was my only company.
She had on headphones and had been annoyingly bobbing her head to something while she read a crusty old paperback. I heard her scramble to her feet and grab her things when she realized I was leaving her behind.
She caught up, pulling out her earbuds and brushing a stray blonde hair from her forehead. “Not going to lose me that easily.”
“That’s a shame,” I said.
She worked her lips to the side. It was a taunting, flirtatious look. A dangerous look. Something about being outside the office must’ve made her feel like we were on some fast and loose field trip. Like I was the stern teacher she could cut it up with while we weren’t on campus. I needed to put an end to that idea before she got either of us in trouble.
“You know you’d miss me if you left me here,” she said. “You’d have nobody to glare at or boss around on the plane.”
I stopped her in the boarding tunnel before we reached the plane. “When we arrive,” I said, pretending I hadn’t heard her teasing. “I need you on your game. I’m going to a conference for the department heads of Coleton, but the man I’m interested in meeting is Gerald Krause.”
Jules’ already big eyes went a touch wider, and the color drained from her face.
I studied her expression. That was strange. “What? Someone you know?”
She shook her head a little too vigorously. “Never heard of him.”
I stared. Usually uncomfortable silence had a way of launching the truth out of people far better than interrogation.
She patted her stomach after a couple seconds. “I get nervous. Airplanes. My stomach is trying to tell me I shouldn’t have had all those eggs for breakfast.”
I put the back of my hand to her forehead, but she tried to swat it away.
“What are you doing?” she asked, ducking as I tried again to feel her temperature.
“Checking to make sure you’re well. Stay still, dammit.”
“I’m fine,” Jules ducked and weaved like a prize fighter while I tried to get my hand on her forehead to check her temperature. “It’s just nerves.”
I put one hand on the back of her head and pressed my palm to her forehead, locking her in place long enough to make sure she didn’t feel like she was running a fever. “You feel clammy,” I said.
She wriggled free, then gave me a dirty look. “Maybe it’s because my boss is manhandling me.”
I shrugged. “Maybe your boss doesn’t want regurgitated eggs in his lap for two and a half hours.”
“It’s only two hours and twenty minutes.” She held up her phone. “Just checked.”
I started walking toward the plane. “If you have time to check useless information like that, you’re not working hard enough.”
Jules jogged to catch up to me. God, the woman smelled fantastic. I had to fight the urge to lift the hand I’d just had in her hair to my nose to see if the scent of her shampoo was still lingering there. It was like strawberries and sugar.
It had been literal years since I’d allowed myself the distraction of a relationship. Being around Princess Jules was making me realize I should’ve been taking the time to get laid every once in a while. My libido was running on overdrive, and I could hardly look at the woman without imagining the things I would do to her if circumstances were different. Imagining how I’d take a fistful of that thick blonde hair and kiss her rough—or how I’d like to toss her down on my bed and push her legs apart.
All those fantasies needed to stay firmly out of the real world.
Hiring her had been a mistake. It had only been a little over a week and I was already sure of that. The fact that I’d had to lock my office door and fuck my hand while I thought of her yesterday was a damning sign. I could maybe blame that on the alcohol, but I’d never been this way. No woman rattled my determination to do what needed to be done, and yet Jules was already seeping into parts of my brain that were supposed to be completely off limits.
We took our seats and she plopped down beside me. It was first class and we were supposed to have all the leg room we needed, but somehow her seat still seemed too close to me. I could smell that strawberry shampoo again.
I lifted my hand to my nose, trying to discreetly block the smell without letting her see I was bothered.
She tried to fit her carry-on under the seat a few times, cursed under her breath when it wouldn’t work, then stood up and started jamming it into the overhead compartment. I sighed in defeat when I looked to the side and saw her white blouse had untucked itself from her tight-fitting skirt and her navel was on display. It was just an innocent sliver of her stomach, but apparently every hormone in my body was on overdrive. Her skin was milky smooth, and I had a sudden overwhelming impulse to put my palm there and push her back into the seats across the aisle. I wanted to take two greedy fistfuls of her ass and press her into me.
I tried to discreetly shift in my seat as the growing pressure between my legs became uncomfortable. This fucking woman. I’d planned to work on my phone for the full flight, but I was starting to wonder if I’d even be able to think about anything except who was sitting next to me.
Thankfully, old habits died hard, and I managed to get myself sucked into the task of going through my emails and attacking the problems they held.
When the plane’s engines fired up for the takeoff procedure, I noticed Jules stopped scrolling on her phone. She was frozen there, apparently trying to look like she was working.
I waited a little while, then looked over to her. “Something wrong?”
“Nope,” she said. “All good.” Except when she lifted her finger to open an email, her hand was shaking.
I sighed. The smart thing to do would be to let her tough it out. The worst that was going to happen would be she’d throw up. She wasn’t going to suffer any actual harm, but... Dammit.
“Look,” I said. “If you’re scared of flying, you’ve got to distract yourself.”
She glanced over towards me, and she was comically tense. Her fingertips had gone white with how tight she was squeezing her phone. “Who said I’m scared of flying?”
I put my hand on her wrist and got her to let go of the phone. She seemed happy to be gripping the arm rests instead. “The fact that you look like you’re sitting on one of those cheap vibrating beds they used to have in motels.”
She gave a fleeting smile. “I’m just cold. That’s all. And those eggs.”
She was full of something, but it wasn’t eggs. “Try imagining all the successful takeoffs that happen every day,” I suggested.
She swallowed, then sank into her seat a little lower. “I just pictured a seagull flying into our engine and us all dying in a huge fireball.”
“Good news. We’re in Asheville and we’re two-hundred and fifty miles from the ocean. I think it’s much more likely to be something like a heron or a hawk flying into the engines.”
“A hawk wouldn’t fly into an engine. They’re too smart.”
“I don’t think any birds try to fly into engines. They’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Jules turned to look at me in disbelief. “Are you trying to help me or convince me that a bird is going to blow our engines up?”
“Okay,” I said. “Just breathe. Let it all out and count to eight. Then breathe in for four seconds. Then hold your breath for four and do it all again.”
Jules let out a shaky, panicky breath that lasted about three seconds.
“Eight,” I said. “Slow it down.” I waited while she got the hang of it and our plane neared the final stage of takeoff. I watched her full lips as she gradually got a handle on her breathing. Once she had it somewhat under control, I tapped the back of her hand. “Relax your grip. Just keep breathing.”
She nodded, then squeezed her eyes shut when the plane rapidly gained speed a moment later. I nearly yanked my hand back when she reached out and gripped my wrist. But I decided it was harmless. She was terrified, and I needed a functional PA for this trip, not a nervous wreck. That’s all. I wasn’t being kind. I was fixing a malfunctioning piece of machinery I needed to get the job done.
Once we were airborne and the main drama of takeoff was behind us, she seemed to realize she was still holding onto my wrist and let go with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Now that you’re done, you need to take advantage of the time we’re in the air to get caught up on my emails. And be more careful about which messages you sort as “critical.” I don’t need to know about authors who forgot to sign their contracts. Send that to Mike. He does author relations.”
She nodded, but I saw her keep glancing at me over the next few minutes like she was wanting to say something.
It was distracting, so I finally sighed, setting my phone down. “Is there something you want to say?”
“I was just wondering how you knew all that. It was really helpful. The breathing stuff, I mean.”
“My little sister,” I said. “She’s afraid of heights. Spiders. Dogs. A few other things.”
“What’s her name?”
“Jordan. You’ll meet her in New Orleans. She’s part of the team.” For once, nobody on my team was using a false first name. We’d all felt it somehow symbolically important to use our real names for this final job. When Russ Coleton looked around and realized everything he’d worked for had been destroyed, we wanted him to have our real names to blame. We wanted him to know who had fucked him. Besides, this was our last job. We all had enough money to live our lives without another day of work after this, and none of us would need to protect our identity any further when we were done.
“Oh,” Jules said. “It’s kind of funny. I actually have a hard time picturing you with a family. You seem so…”
“I seem so what, Juliette?”
“Jules,” she said quietly, but for some reason her cheeks were staining with red.
We fell into silence while the flight attendant moved through first class offering refreshments. I was pleased when Jules passed on the drinks and food, instead seeming intent to keep sorting my emails. I hadn’t been blowing smoke up her ass in my office yesterday. She really was impressive. I’d never had a personal assistant a quarter as capable.
She unlatched her seatbelt half an hour later and then paused as she was getting up. “Have to pee,” she said, shrugging.
“You don’t need permission to use the restroom,” I said, not looking up from my phone. Except when I saw her ass swing into view as she exited her seat, I discreetly admired the view. I could see the outline of her thong pressing against the fabric, and the uncomfortable tightness between my legs came back.
Before she returned, we hit a patch of turbulence that shook the plane and dimmed the lights. A few people let out surprised gasps and the flight attendant near my seat had to grab onto a chair to keep himself upright.
The pilot came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re experiencing a little choppiness. Please return to your seats.”
I looked toward the restroom. Why wasn’t Jules coming out?
A minute passed, then two. The plane kept shaking and the lights kept dimming. It was some of the worst turbulence I’d dealt with flying commercial. Fucking hell, I thought. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got up, heading for the restroom.
“Sir,” the attendant said. “Please go back to your seat.”
I waved him off, then knocked on the bathroom door. “Jules. Gotta get back to your seat.”
There was no response.
“Jules?” I asked.
I heard shaky breathing when I put my ear close to the door. “Open the door.”
The latch clicked, and I pushed the door open. I found her sitting on the toilet with her skirt pulled down and her thong around her ankles. I barely noticed because she was completely white and her forehead was beaded with sweat. She was clutching the sink and the wall with white knuckles, clearly terrified of the turbulence.
“Hey,” I said, moving toward her, but not quite sure what to do. If I helped her stand up she’d be flashing me, which probably wouldn’t help her nerves. “What’s going on?”
She shook her head in tight, rapid movements. “We’re crashing, aren’t we?”
“Are you done?” I asked.
“What?” she asked.
I dipped my chin slightly, careful not to move my eyes to her naked lower half.
Her eyes went a little wider and she gasped. “Oh, God,” she said, jumping to her feet to pull her underwear and skirt up. Before she could complete the act, another round of turbulence hit, pushing her forward into me and sending us both thumping against the door. Her hands were on my chest, and I’d instinctively put my arms around her to keep her from falling.
Neither of us moved or said a word for several painful moments. My cock unfortunately didn’t care about company policy or my ambitions. All it seemed to care about was that Jules Adams had her bare ass out and was pressed up against me in a cramped airplane bathroom. I was hard in an instant, and deadly conscious of how good it would’ve felt to slide my hands down and pull her into me by that firm ass of hers.
“I’m just going to-” she said, wincing as she started to crouch. Another round of turbulence sent her face first into my erection just as she crouched to pull up her skirt. She bounced off and would’ve fallen if I hadn’t caught her by the head. We braced in that position for a few seconds until the turbulence passed.
That was how the male flight attendant found us when he opened the door to the bathroom.
Both my hands were on the back of Jules’ head, and I was trying to keep her from falling by pressing her face into my pants. More specifically, I was pushing her face directly into my raging erection.
His face fell when he saw us. “Damn it. All the good ones are straight,” he said to me. “Well, you kids have fun.” He shut the door.
Jules finished pulling up her underwear and skirt, leaving us both standing there and me with a confused erection.
“This never happened,” I said.