Just a Bit Bossy by Alessandra Hazard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

Nate hadn’t exactly expected Ferrara’s attitude toward him to soften after Nate had once again won their game of chicken.

He had been right about that. He could practically feel Ferrara’s dark mood with his skin, but Nate was in too good a mood to care. Having the upper hand over the asshole felt so fucking nice.

Of course it was too good to last.

It was the next evening after the handjob incident. Nate was finished with his work for the day and was more than ready to go home and get a good night’s sleep. He only had to tell his boss that he was leaving.

Nate knocked on the door before opening it and sticking his head in. “I’m done. I’m leaving!” He tried to quickly shut the door before Satan could give him another task.

But of course it didn’t work.

“Come inside.”

Groaning inwardly, Nate did as he was told.

“What?” he said sulkily, stepping into the room and shutting the door with maybe more force than necessary. He was tired, dammit. He had been so busy all day. On top of the million usual tasks, he had been in charge of moving their things back to the Caldwell Group HQ now that they wouldn’t be working part-time at Rutledge Enterprises. He was tired. He really was.

When the silence stretched, Nate finally lifted his gaze and scowled when he saw how perfectly put together and full of energy his boss looked. He truly must be the devil, because a mere mortal shouldn’t look that way after the day they’d both had.

Ferrara said nothing for a moment, just eyeing him in obvious distaste. “You look like a mess,” he said at last. “My assistant can’t look like that.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “It’s nine in the evening and my workday has been over for three hours now. So I can look like a mess if I want to. I hope you aren’t stopping me from my date with my pillow just because you wanted to comment on my messy appearance.”

“I’m too keyed up. Come over here and jerk me off.”

Nate stared at him.

Ferrara stared right back, insufferably arrogant, confident, and without a hint of shame.

Nate laughed a little. “Is this now part of my job description?”

“It is, if I say so. If you don’t like the job, you can always quit.”

Nate scoffed. “You wish,” he said before striding over to his boss and kneeling.

 

 

***

 

 

That was how the whole thing had started. The thing being the fact that he now gave Ferrara handjobs every time the dick was up for it—pun intended.

It was both extremely weird and not weird at all. Ferrara didn’t act any differently toward him just because Nate relieved his tension as part of his job. Nate didn’t delude himself into thinking that the arrangement was more than just a matter of convenience for Ferrara. Now the guy didn’t have to go through the inconvenience of meeting with his booty calls if he felt stressed and frustrated at work. Granted, Nate was sure Ferrara was still getting laid on the weekends, but the rest of the week Nate’s hand was being put to—very frequent—use. Not that he received as much as a “thank you” for his efforts.

So nope, Satan didn’t act any differently toward him.

Nate couldn’t say the same about himself. He did feel a little differently now that he intimately knew the shape and the feel of his boss’s cock. He didn’t hate Ferrara any less, but he wasn’t as scared of him. There had simply come a point when he’d realized that Ferrara was just a man, made of flesh and blood, who liked getting his rocks off when he wasn’t reducing his employees to tears. Maybe his friend Ben did have a point, after all.

The handjobs had another unexpectedly good side-effect: they made him totally zen at work. As his fifth month at the Caldwell Group came to an end, nothing fazed Nate anymore. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he’d already hit rock bottom and nothing could possibly be more challenging than giving handies to the devil. Or maybe he’d just gotten used to his job—or used to his boss. Either way, Ferrara could give him any amount of ridiculous tasks and they no longer made him break into a panic. A dozen different tasks that contradicted each other? No problem. Nate now knew what tasks to delegate to the secretaries and couriers, and what tasks he had to do himself. It was manageable. Tolerable. His job was surprisingly tolerable. He sometimes actually found himself enjoying the challenge.

“God, I don’t know how you do it,” Brenda said one afternoon after Satan had dressed down dozens of people at the quarterly meeting. “I’m frankly amazed you’re still here. No one has ever stayed this long as his PA.”

Nate probably shouldn’t have felt pleased hearing that. But hey, it was totally something to be proud of. It required balls of steel and the patience of a saint to put up with Ferrara for so long.

“And the weird thing is, you aren’t even polite to him,” Brenda said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “He actually lets you talk back.”

Nate wrinkled his nose and laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. He only lets me talk back when it amuses him.”

From the look on her face, Brenda disagreed. “Seriously, what’s your secret?” she said, leaning in. “Please tell me so I can help out the poor guy who will be his PA after you’re gone next month!”

Right. He would be gone next month. The thought was… kind of weird.

“There’s no secret,” Nate said belatedly when he realized that she was still waiting for his answer.

No secret at all, he thought as he walked away. I just annoy him all the time and touch his cock sometimes.

Lately, though, “sometimes” meant every day, or even twice a day. Ferrara’s libido was ridiculous; it was a good thing Nate was a fast learner and by now knew how to get him off fast. Though Nate was pretty sure his boss demanded his assistance so often just to annoy him into quitting.

Too bad it didn’t work.

 

***

 

“You can’t be serious,” he said, looking at Ferrara incredulously. “You have a meeting with the Microsoft representative in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s precisely why it needs to happen now,” Ferrara said in a tone of finality, his face expressionless as if he were speaking about the weather. “I’ll need a clear head for the meeting. It’s too important.”

Nate scoffed. “What, you can’t think when you’re horny?”

Ferrara gave him a look that made it clear how little he thought of Nate’s intelligence if Nate really expected that he was going to explain himself to a lowly PA.

“Fine,” Nate grumbled, kneeling in front of him and unzipping his boss’s pants with practiced ease. “I still don’t understand how you can be horny already. I did this yesterday evening.”

“Then you can blame only yourself for your subpar effort.”

Glaring at him, Nate pulled out Ferrara’s already-hard cock and squeezed it tightly, the way Ferrara liked it. It creeped him out how familiar the weight and the feel of that cock was by now. Big. Warm. Pulsing. Obscenely thick. A cock. In his hand.

Licking his lips, Nate tore his gaze away from the thing and started stroking it.

Ferrara was quiet, as usual, his heavy-lidded eyes on Nate’s hand working his cock. The bastard didn’t close his eyes anymore, but he’d recently taken to watching Nate’s hand on his cock, which was slightly unnerving.

Nate looked away before their gazes could accidentally meet. He always felt weird when that happened. Somehow, it was weirder than giving the man a handjob.

Stroke, stroke, stroke.

His wrist started aching soon enough. Almost ten minutes had passed but Ferrara still hadn’t come.

Nate huffed in frustration. “He’ll be here any minute now. The door isn’t even locked.” Not that anyone would dare enter Satan’s office without a knock, but still.

“Then make me come.”

Nate scowled. “You think I’m not trying?”

“Try harder,” Ferrara said, meeting his gaze, his black eyes glinting.

Nate swallowed, his stomach in knots. “My wrist is tired,” he complained.

A strange expression appeared in those eyes. “Then use something else.”

It took Nate a few seconds to register the meaning of his words.

He flushed. “I’m not sucking your cock,” he hissed. “I’m straight!”

Ferrara shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his posture confident and so very male. “So am I,” he said. “So what?”

The nerve of him.

Nate could only open and close his mouth wordlessly, absolutely speechless.

There was a knock on the door. “Mr. Robertson from Microsoft is here, sir,” Brenda’s muffled voice sounded through the door.

Nate jerked his hand away from Ferrara’s cock, but the asshole grabbed it and kept it where it was. “Give me a minute,” Ferrara called out before shifting his gaze back to Nate and lowering his voice. “Well? Are you going to make a Microsoft representative wait?”

Glowering at him, Nate spluttered in indignation.

A glimmer of amusement appeared in Ferrara’s eyes. “You can say no, obviously. I’m not forcing you. You can quit.”

“Fuck you. I’m quitting after I win the bet in a month, and not a second sooner.” Before he could think twice, Nate leaned in and fit his mouth over his boss’s erection.

It tasted… nowhere near as bad as Nate had thought it would. Just of salty skin. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he had fingers in his mouth, and not another man’s cock.

Except he didn’t have fingers in his mouth. He had another man’s cock in his mouth. A cock. In his mouth. His boss’s cock.

His face burning, Nate squeezed his eyes shut and moved his head, trying to take as much of the thing into his mouth as he could. He failed. There was just so much of it. How the hell did women do it?

Mentally apologizing to every woman who’d ever blown him for not showing enough appreciation for her hard work, Nate tried his damnedest to mimic what his girlfriends had done to him.

“You’re terrible at this,” Ferrara commented when Nate pulled up for some much-needed air.

Glaring up at him, Nate bit out, “I’m straight. Of course I’m terrible at this. Yours is the first cock I’m trying to suck.”

A drop of pre-come appeared on the cockhead. Nate wrinkled his nose but tentatively gave it a small, kittenish lick.

Ferrara groaned and came all over his face. Just like that.

“You—” Nate spluttered, springing to his feet. Opening the desk drawer, he pulled wet wipes out of it and rubbed at his face frantically. “Jesus, this is gross.”

His gaze heavy-lidded from his orgasm, Ferrara tucked his cock into his pants and zipped up. And of course he now looked picture-perfect and not at all like he’d just come all over his assistant’s face.

Scowling at him fiercely, Nate finished cleaning his face and turned to the door.

“There’s still a drop on your nose,” came Ferrara’s voice from behind him.

Nate flushed and wiped his nose. “I hate you so much,” he said with feeling.

“Noted,” the bastard said, and was that amusement in his voice? “Now go tell Robertson he may come in.”

Nate did just that.

“Are you okay, Nate?” Brenda said sympathetically as Robertson disappeared into the office.

Nate flinched, looking at her warily. “What? What do you mean?”

She cocked her head to the side. “You look flushed. Was he hard on you?”

Nate nearly laughed.

He was hard in me, he thought, and for a moment imagined the look on her face if he actually said that.

She would think it was a joke, of course.

Nate would think it was a joke too if someone told him five months ago that he would be willingly sucking Ferrara’s cock because his boss needed a “clear head” for a meeting with a Microsoft representative.

God, could his life get any more surreal?