Blindsided By the Boss

“Now, there’s a woman whose lips I wouldn’t mind having wrapped around my cock,” Aaron, my best friend from high school, said, smacking my arm and bringing me out of the thoughts of excuses I’d like to use to leave this wretched festivity.

I turned in the direction of his finger and his eyes—immediately spotting a beautiful brunette dressed in a sheer black mini-dress that hugged every delicious curve of her body. She was talking and laughing with another delicious-looking brunette with red streaks and long fucking legs—both looking to be dressed for going out clubbing instead of for a wedding. ”Fuck, man," he smacked my arm again, “isn’t that brunette to die for?”

Both women were attractive, and women I wouldn’t mind showing a good time, but I already checked them out earlier when I was looking for an escape, and they’re already spoken for. So, curious to know if we were eyeing the same two women since the room seemed to be filled with brunettes, I fucked with him by asking, “Which one?”

“Both of those brunettes dressed in black, as a matter-of-factly.” He knocked back the last of his scotch, and as he stood, he chuckled, “I’m going over to them to see if they’d be interested in having a threesome.”

You’re in for a disappointment, bud. “Or an orgy...” I hinted, sipping my as smooth as butter—scotch whiskey—Johnnie Walker Blue. “A fivesome may be a bit too much for you.”

“What?” he asked, confusion written all over his face. “Only two women I see here are worth my time—not four.”

Should I save him the embarrassment and fill him in before he pisses off two hot-heads—ending in someone going to jail, or should I let him find out on his own?

A best friend would join him in on the party—if they were single, that is.

A good friend would tell him they didn’t come here alone to spare a fight from happening.

And a shitty friend wouldn’t say anything to really get this party started and to see him shit his pants when two guys confront him—starting a wedding reception brawl.

I may be looking to end this night with a bang. But what I won’t do is risk having my face plastered all over the news because of a fight I could have stopped before it even started. It’s not how I want the night to end. I grabbed his wrist and forced him back onto the barstool. “Sit your ass down. I won’t allow you to go to them to embarrass yourself.”

Looking extremely annoyed, he groaned, “What do you mean? They’re not dressed to be here. They’re dressed to kill—for a good time." He grinned, emphasizing, ”A very good time.”

I motioned for the bartender to refill our empty glasses, then shifted to face Aaron. “They may not be dressed for a wedding such as this one, and yes, they’re dressed like they’re looking for a good time, but it could be those women have other engagements to attend to because they did not come here alone.”

He looked around the room of three hundred-plus people, then returned his eyes to me. “I don’t see anyone keeping their eyes on them.”

When I saw the two men who came in with the women standing behind Aaron, waiting to be served, my lip curled up, and I jutted my chin for him to take a look. “If you’re curious about who they are, turn around. And if you’re interested in knowing if they’re willing to share, let me know. I’ll find someone else to help me get through this night with.”

That said, I faced the bar, lifted my drink to my lips, and watched from the corner of my eye to see what Aaron would say or do. “Wazzup,” he said, snapping his chin to them, causing me to chuckle lowly and shake my head. “You guys going clubbing with those two hot chicks in the black mini-dresses later, or what?”

What an idiot.

“You’re cut off,” I groaned, then lifted my eyes to the two men eyeing Aaron like they were about to pound him with a hammer right then and there. So before a fight ensued, I smacked Aaron in the head and looked at the men, apologizing, “You must excuse my friend. He’s had a little too much to drink tonight. And he knows not what he says.” I extended my hand to them, offering a truce. They took it. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Callum, and this drunken idiot beside me is Aaron.”

I usually don’t care to strike up a conversation outside of work. But to spare my friend’s ass from getting beaten, I had to say something.

“I’m not drunk,” Aaron retorted.

“If you’re not drunk, you must be an imbecile, then,” the man standing directly beside my friend said, “because those “hot chicks” you’re referring to just so happen to be our wives. And anyone who disrespects them always finds themselves in the hospital—every time. But you can thank your friend and the bride—my cousin—for that not happening to you tonight. I won’t ruin her wedding over a horny moron like you.”

And like a snap of the finger, they were gone in a flash.

Ten years ago or so, I wouldn’t have tried calming a situation like this; instead, I’m sure I would have engaged in the scrabble they wanted to have. No, scratch that. Not, I’m sure. But I would have given in to what they wanted to do—fight.

Out of our small circle of six friends, Aaron and I are the smartest regarding being tied down—We. Just. Don’t. And we both despise weddings. Which is ironic because Greyson married last year, Hudson gets married in three months, Rory marries in four months, and Jace married tonight. Which we both attended—as groomsmen after being suckered into it—all of them, actually. And the one I’m not looking forward to the most is Rory’s wedding—the one I reluctantly agreed to be his best man. Why I agreed? I have no clue. Other than we’re friends. And I got tired of him begging me to be his best man. Usually, the only time I’ll give in to someone begging is when a woman is on her knees begging for my cock or for whatever it is she’s looking to get from me.

Rory, I’m envious of tonight. His grandfather passed away, so he and his bride-to-be had to back out of the wedding—lucky fucking bastard. Not about his grandfather unexpectedly departing this life. But because he didn’t have to sit in a room of over three hundred people, listening to them ring a fucking bell whenever they wanted to see Jace and Tallulah kiss—which had gone on for more than two hours after taking our seats at the wedding table.

Dreadful...

I’m happy for my friends and happy they found love; believe me, I am. But as Adam Sandler once said and sang about—Love Stinks... all love does is set you up for heartbreak, and I refuse to go down that road—fuck that.

I lifted my drink and spun my stool around when I heard Jace talk into the microphone, asking all the single men to join him on the dance floor for the garter toss. He looked at me as I brought my beverage to my lips, waving for me to join him. Thanks, but no thanks... Instead of joining all the bachelors, I raised my arm and flicked my wrist at him, letting him know to go ahead without me.

“Ah, come on, Callum. Quit being shy, and come join us,” Jace whined, smiling like Ronald McDonald. I know what he’s doing. He wants me to catch Tallulah’s garter, so I’ll dance with the woman who caught her bouquet. I saw the one who caught it, and she isn’t one I’d be caught dead with, so I’ll pass. I waved my hand, then spun the stool around to face the bar.

“Okay, fine. Your loss, Callum.”

Sorry, Jace. But I’m only here to support you, not dance with the woman who looks like Mrs. Dumars—the landlady from Kingpin. The next thing she’d do after seeing me as her dance partner, she’ll rest two of her digits at each corner of her mouth and flick her tongue, begging I give her a night she’ll never forget.

Disgusted by the thought, I shivered.

I guess it looks like I won’t be getting laid tonight; instead of hearing a woman purring, moaning, groaning, screaming, and begging and making her submit to me all night, I’ll be tossing and turning to the annoying sounds of ringing bells that got embedded in my head.

Since all eyes were on the floor, watching Jace crawl inside his wife’s dress to wet her pussy and remove the garter. I figured now would be a good time to step out, get some fresh air, and check my emails to see if the new administrative assistant my company hired without involving me completed all the tasks I asked her to do.

I set my empty glass on top of a Ben Franklin, shoved it to the bar’s edge, and then did what I do best—sneaked out of the reception hall. While heading to the doors leading outside, a beautiful woman with dark amber-colored hair that looked as smooth as honey dripping over her shoulders caught my attention when I walked past the hotel bar. She was alone, enjoying a glass of wine while focusing intensely on her phone, her fingers moving a mile a minute as she texted away.

There’s nothing more I like than a pissed-off woman—it makes having sex with them so much more fun and exciting.

She has a beautiful face but dresses like a nun. However, one thing I know. And that is, you need to watch out for those types of women—they’re sexual freaks in the bedroom. And it’s making my dick twitch against my zipper just thinking about it, so I’ll have to introduce myself if she’s still there when I return.

I stood against the pillar outside, making phone calls, checking emails, and getting the fresh air I needed. Then, when I finished doing what I needed to do, I gazed at the woman inside the bar for quite a while—trying to figure her out—curious if she were like me, someone who was only looking for a good time instead of a relationship.

Dressed like a Mother Superior—she has to have a hidden wild side in her.

Well, there’s no time like the present. If I wait any longer, she’ll be gone. So I shoved my phone back into my pocket and headed back inside the hotel, and instead of returning to the reception, I headed to the hotel bar.

“I’ll take a Johnny Walker Blue neat, and,” I cocked my head to the side to see the woman sitting alone, saw her wine glass was empty, then faced the bartender, “whatever she’s having, I’ll buy her another as well.”

I turned to ensure she was still at the table, and she was still plugging away at her phone, typing as if she were on a mission. And by how she’s dressed, black tights, boring black dress, black stilettos, looking somber on top of pissed, I’d say she’s dressed for a funeral—or she’s trying to look like a nun.

“Your drinks, sir.”

I spun around and handed him a Ben Franklin. “Thank you. Keep the change,” I commanded, lifting the drinks and walking over to the somber-looking woman.

“You know, staring at your phone how you’ve been for the last hour isn’t good on the eyes.”

Without looking at me and still typing like she was on a mission trying to decode something, she grumbled, “Tell my boss that.”

I sat across from her, sliding the glass of wine toward her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I bought you another glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.”

Without looking away from her phone, she shoved the glass toward me, saying, “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

I chuckled. “I can guarantee it didn’t get roofied under my care from the bar to your table.” I lifted the glass and swirled the wine around. “Would it make you feel better if I tasted it to be sure it wasn’t spiked?”

“You’re still a guy trying to buy me a drink. Which I never accept a drink from a man I don’t know.”

“I’m not trying. I did,” I quipped, smirking, trying to get her to look at me so I could assess her facial features better. “And if you put your phone down for a moment, you’ll be able to get to know me.”

“As I said, I’m working. I’ve got a deadline to meet that my asshole of a boss decided to dump on me at the last minute; that needs to be done before midnight,” she groaned.

“Asshole, hey? Aren’t they all?” I shrugged because, well, it’s true. I’m a boss, and I’ll even admit I’m an asshole.

“Yep. The jackass prick knows I’m out of town for my grandmother’s funeral, and he still emailed me a list of shit he expected me to complete today—while I was saying my goodbyes to her. Who does that shit?”

My lips twisted. Me... I’ve done it before, as recently as today. And it thrills me to hear I’m not the only one who does it. But hey... when you’ve got deadlines to meet, you gotta do what you gotta do. And the girl, my company, hired behind my back, has zero qualifications for the job I put out there. So, if she wants this job, she has to prove to me she can work under pressure. Otherwise, she’s fired if she can’t.

But I don’t need to get into that with her.

And what’s with all the deaths lately? My friend’s grandfather, this woman’s grandmother, and an employee of mine also had to leave to attend a funeral.

Well, if I want to get this girl to converse with me, I should show her I’m not some guy trying to drug her to get her in bed.

That I can do by using my charm.

I lifted the glass of wine to my lips and took a sip. “Tastes cheap,” I said, bunching up my nose. “How about I ask the bartender to bring you the best bottle of wine to the table? It’ll be my treat to help you get the job done and make your boss happy.”

I suddenly felt like I was looking into the sea after her eyes finally lifted from her phone and at me. Her long, thick, dark eyelashes, along with her dark amber-colored hair, made her sea-green colored eyes pop out, and it fucking mesmerized me.

That’s a first...

She reached for the glass of wine, snatching it from my hand. “I like cheap. And since you tasted it, I’ll drink it.”

Yuck. “Seriously, let me buy you a bottle of wine that doesn’t smell and taste like a barnyard.”

She brought the glass to her lips and looked at me as she took a drink. “This will do just fine. I like it. And it doesn’t taste like a barnyard. It tastes like black cherries with a hint of vanilla.” Her eyes lowered to the glass in my hand. “By the looks of it, you wouldn’t know how wine should taste when you’re drinking scotch, whiskey, or bourbon.”

“I like wine. Although, I prefer it with my meal rather than having it as a nightcap,” I shrugged. “And this is scotch whiskey. One of the best ones out there.” I held it out for her. “Would you like to try it? It’s velvety smooth, and it’ll blossom on your tongue.” I lifted it higher, slowly rocking it from side to side. “Try it. It’s a thousand times better than that,” I said, tipping my glass toward hers.

She shrugged. “Okay,” she said nonchalantly, taking the drink from my hand.

“Three steps before drinking it. Especially for your first time.”

“Steps?”

“Yeah, kind of like wine. First, you’ll want to smell it. A good scotch whiskey such as Johnnie Walker Blue will give waves of spice at first, and then you’ll smell vanilla and honey. Second, take a sample to get a taste of it. This one, you’ll taste caramel and hazelnuts coursing through dark chocolate. And the third and final step, you’ll savor and finish it. It’ll finish off warm and smokey.”

Watching her take a drink of scotch whiskey without making a face made my dick twitch. She may dress like a Reverend Mother, but she’s showing she’s a badass. A risk taker who’s bold and intellectually interesting—just like I assumed she be.

Which also means she’s good in the sack.

“How was it?” I asked when she handed my drink back.

She shrugged. “It wasn’t bad. But since I’ve got a deadline to meet, I’ll stick to my cheap wine," she said, lifting her phone and returning to what she was doing.

Hmm... she’s making me work for her time. That’s fine; I’ve got nowhere interesting to be. I’d ask what she’s working on to see if I could help her finish it sooner, but I don’t even do that with my own employees.

But then again, my dicks aching for some excitement tonight, and I could use a distraction to get those stupid ringing bell sounds out of my head.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me work, or are you going to go back to whatever you were doing before you interrupted me?”

I smiled against the rim of my glass. “I’m sorry. I can’t help where my eyes want to be right now. They’re trying to figure out if you’re a magician or something. Because it seems like everyone disappears when my eyes are on you.”

“That’s funny you say that. Because the only people in this bar are you, me, and the bartender.”

“Exactly. He disappeared,” I quipped, taking a drink.

She looked toward the bar. “He’s cleaning bottles. And you need a new pickup line,” she addressed, her eyes returning to mine while setting her phone on the table. Crossing her arms along her chest, my dick quickly stood at attention when she said, “If you’re trying to work me into your bed, you might as well just get it out of your system by asking if I’d like to fuck.”

I set my glass down, leaned forward, and showed her the charming smile the ladies fall for. Every. Time. “Since my dick’s looking for temporary asylum inside your pussy. Would you like to fuck? ”

She looked upward at the ceiling, tapping her cheek. Then, finally, after a moment of thinking, her eyes lowered, the lighting causing her eyes to sparkle as she said. “I don’t know. If you’re looking to wet your dick, you’ll have to come up with a better way of asking to get me in bed—something so good that it’ll get me to tell my boss to fuck off; his ridiculous deadline can wait.”

Okay, we have a brat here—and it only made my dick want to be inside her even more.

Even though I liked her response, I still cocked a brow as I asked, “Wouldn’t he fire you for that?”

“There’s no reason he needed to be a pompous asshole, giving me a deadline to make when he knew damn well I left for a few days to be with family, to attend my grandmother’s funeral. It’s a Saturday fucking night, and the shit he wants, he won’t need until Monday. He did this to be a dick to test me. And I’m in no mood to be tested.” She looked me over and swallowed before saying, “So, mister expensive tux man, what reason will make me want to spread my legs for you?”

Easy...

I reached for her hand, twirled my fingers around hers, brought it to my mouth, and kissed her knuckles, saying, “Well, there are many reasons. But first and foremost, my cock and mouth know exactly how to give multiple orgasms during playtime. I’ll have you screaming, squirming, moaning, and begging for more. I’ll kiss, lick, and excite every single inch of your body while exploring every nook and cranny, while penetrating every crevice with my mouth and tongue. And pleasuring you would be a fucking honor. Not only that, but my mind has been consumed by wondering how you taste ever since you caught my eye. And by the looks of you, and your heavenly eyes, I know you’ll taste fucking magnificent. Chef’s kiss,” I said, kissing my fingers.

She downed the last of her wine, then taunted me as she stood. “Prove it.”

Something tells me this woman is going to be a handful. And that’s exactly what I need tonight.