The Boss
My Christmas started on a terrific note until it went downhill. First, my flight got canceled because of a blizzard that came out of nowhere. Next, Julia from work texted me with this—
Julia:
So sorry to hear that.
We can spend the night together. Will bring Drake and Emma.
Sent the invitation out to everyone at work!
The message made me feel much much better and I spent the evening decorating the house and preparing cookies for at least twenty-five people. It was nearly 7 pm when I decided to check my messages again only to find this—
Julia:
Sorry again, but the guys decided to go to a party at Drake’s instead.
Maybe next year… xoxoxo
That and here I am, sitting on my couch in my pajamas watching my Christmas tree which shines brightly to mock my bad luck. I sit eating my deliciously baked cookies and grunting over when sleep would greet my eyes. Dad used to say Christmas is supposed to be spent with family and friends and one should not want to be lonely during a jolly time like that—the exact opposite of what I am going through right now.
Well done, Dad, for giving me false hopes.
My cat, Kat, looms over my leg, climbing on my lap, and lies down with a yawn. I caress her golden furs as my heart grows heavy with the dull pain of not having anyone to spend Christmas with. I feel so jealous of my older brother who was able to get a flight on time and is now at home with our parents, celebrating. The guy has always been luckier than me and that makes me so pissed sometimes. It is like the universe had decided that all the luck should be Dominic Cole’s and none for his sister.
He is twenty-seven, handsome, married to an aspiring model and now, lucky enough to spend Christmas with family. Then here I am—twenty-five, single with a job in the suburbs and not even close to a relationship.
“I wish we were home, Kat,” I muse, bending over and placing a kiss on Kat’s head. She snuggles closer to my body, seeking warmth.
The only good thing in my life.
There is the sound of the doorbell ringing and my eyes flicker to the door. It is nearly 10 pm, who the hell is showing up this late?
My breath catches in my throat as the scary feeling of the intruder being someone uninvited grabs my imagination. There is little possibility that Julia would show up this late. Besides, she would have texted me by now considering I was not opening the door.
What if it is a serial killer and as soon as I open the door, he shoots me dead?
Kat purrs and then climbs down swiftly. Her tail sways fashionably as she walks towards the door while I sit on my couch, debating on my options. Perhaps I am overthinking and it is Julia. Maybe her battery died and she just decided to show up at the last moment because she feels sorry for ditching me.
Cautiously, I get up from the couch and grab the nearest weapon I can find which turns out to be my only vase. I tiptoe forward and look through the peephole.
The person on the other hand steals my breath away.
What the fuck is he doing here?
I place my hand on the knob but keep the chain intact as I open the door slowly and peek outside through the gap to be greeted with the sight I never expected to see on my porch.
Aiden Monroe is standing at my door. He is my boss and the only guy I ever slept with.
Towering over a height of over six feet and dressed in a tuxedo during a snowfall, he looks almost too impossible to exist. His face is relaxed but has no smile. There is a light stubble on his cheeks, his dark hair combed neatly, and it makes him look...manly. I remember the way he had worshipped me on his bed during that one horrible last Christmas party. As I recall the images of the night, my cheeks heat up and I clear my throat.
His focus is on his watch and he didn’t notice me opening the door. When he hears me, his cerulean eyes find mine and I see his jaw clench.
“I was invited to a party.” His deep voice breaks through the cold air in the hallway, making something tingle in the pit of my stomach.
“There’s...no...party here,” I stammer in response.
His mere presence is awkward enough for me to start finding ways to flee. I have been avoiding being alone with him for the last year. At the office, it is pretty easy with my colleagues around but now the guy is here himself. We are rarely alone. There is always a third person in the room to discuss professional details.
His piercing gaze is so strong that it makes me feel weak in my knees. I clutch the door tightly, afraid that he will see my nervousness.
“Do invite me in. I have nowhere else to go,” he says, after a moment of silence between us.
Chewing on my bottom lip in a moment of debate, I place the vase back in its place before opening the door pensively. He steps in with his boots. He kicks the snow on my ’Welcome’ mat and proceeds inside, leaving a trail of white flakes on his way.
“Leave them out,” I promptly say, finding it rude that he wouldn’t consider the neatness of my apartment a priority.
Aiden throws me a hard look. “You’re kidding me, right? It’s freezing.”
“I have rugs.” I point to the Persian rug under his feet. Kat starts to meow, curling around Aiden’s legs. Contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t seem disturbed by her. “Hush, Kat!”
My cat quietens, twisting her ass away with a swagger and walking off. I grunt out a frustrated comment about her attitude which doesn’t go unheard by Aiden. With a frustrated sigh, he steps out and comes back in after discarding his boots. He pads his way into the living room, taking in the decorations I have strung along and the plate of cookies now left in crumbs.
He seems to be in deep thought before facing me again. “The roads are blocked. I can’t leave.”
“So you plan to stay here? That’s not very appropriate for a boss.”
“You want me to die in the cold?”
“Make yourself home. I was just watching a movie.”
I roll my eyes, strutting my way back to my couch, the hallmark movie playing on the TV screen now showing the main couple breaking up. I pick up my half-drunk beer as Aiden picks up another. He looks around again before settling himself on the other end of the couch. He opens his suit, draping it over an arm of the couch. We both watch the movie silently, my attention catching his every movement from the periphery instead of the scenes playing.
The weirdness between us hasn’t left since last Christmas. I can’t believe I have survived an entire year without bringing up that night.
“You’re alone too?” Aiden breaks the silence, albeit reluctantly by the added layer of gruffness in his voice,
“My flight got canceled,” I answer him, my heart deflating at the thought. “You?”
“My brother announced his sudden engagement so mine changed their plans to go visit him.”
“You didn’t go?”
A sarcastic smirk of his catches the light from the fireplace. “His girlfriend is my ex.”
“Oh…”
We go silent again and after a while, I notice him shaking his legs.
“You have something warm?” He turns to me, shooting an eyebrow up his forehead. “Hot chocolate perhaps?”
It is my turn to smirk. “You show up unannounced and think I have stuff prepared for you?”
“Why are you being so snarky?” He raises his hands in a placating way. “I just asked.”
He dares to be unfazed by me. This is the worst Christmas ever. Am I that forgettable? That wasn’t what he said during all the rounds we had that night.
I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest and staring him down. “You shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have come here either.”
He stands up too, protesting, “I was invited.”
“I wasn’t responsible for the invites.”
He blinks like something new has struck him. I see the realization get to him as he takes in the decorated houses, the food items placed on the dining table, and the rows of beer that I had taken out.
He sighs, his tongue dating out to lick his bottom lip. “Ariadne…did my employees bail on you?”
I fight to keep the tears inside. I am PMSing so being over sensitive is a part of that routine.
“They had to go to a different party,” I say, raising my chin to show that it doesn’t affect me.
It doesn’t matter to him.
“After making you prepare all these?”
“I’m used to being brushed away.”
Aiden frowns, taking a step closer, and just then, a thunder strikes outside, lightening his face in a checkered glow of blue and amber in the dark.
“You shouldn’t be,” he says. “You have more worth than that.”
“Mr. Monroe, can you please just stop talking?”
“No, I won’t.” He moves closer, my chest brushing his and our eyes play a silent game of who blinks first. “Ariadne, you should be upset.”
“It’s Christmas.”
I don’t notice how my voice has begun to tremble until the fact settles between us. It is Christmas and my friends bailed on me.
Why did they do that? Why couldn’t everyone just come here or invite me to their party? Am I that disposable?
Aiden lifts a hand, catching a teardrop that slips from my eye. He stares at it before gently caressing my cheek with his knuckles. “That’s exactly why you should be upset. It’s Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.”
We both stare so deep, feeling the ache of that loneliness in our bones. This is the same as last year. We were alone then too. Every year we are alone for one reason or the other.
The amber in the hearth flickers, casting a glow overhead which makes me gasp. “Oh shit!”
Aiden looks at me in confusion. “What?”
I point to the ceiling. “You stepped under the mistletoe.”
He follows my line of gaze, noticing the two red cherries snuggled between plastic leaves and a smile graces his lips.
We both know what comes next. My nipples are taut under my sweater, the stickiness in my panties becoming more prominent when his gaze darkens.
“Do I get a kiss for that?” he asks in a whisper, bending his head low, tilting a little so that his lips are in line with my own.
“Why should you?” I whisper back, gaze locked on his juicy lips which I remember giving the most delicious kisses.
“Because…it’s Christmas, Ariadne. No one should be denied a kiss under the mistletoe.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Even better.”
“You’re my boss.”
His hand finds its way behind the nape of my neck, the rough fingers making me a nervous wreck; a cloudy sigh leaves my lips.
“We can keep a secret, remember?”
He winks, inching closer. I find my hands lifting on their own, caressing through his chest, feeling the shape of his hard abs under the dress shirt until they reach his face, cupping him.
“You’re here to be my bad decision, right?” I hum, my eyelids drooping down with lust.
“Take me as you want, Ariadne. You know how I feel about you.”
Did I mention that Aiden Monroe has a crush on me? He confessed it last Christmas and by the hunger in his eyes, I know the confession still holds.
“How do you feel about me?” I ask, teasing the collar of his shirt with my little fingers on both hands.
His lips draw closer, the next words spoken right against my skin. “Like I really really wanna kiss you.”
I watch his eagerness and rise on my tiptoes, giving him better access as I pull him down and meet him halfway.
“We can’t deny traditions now, can we?”
Our mouths smash in a kiss that starts slow with just the touch of lips on lips. The growl that I earn from him makes my pussy clench as his hand finds its way to my hair, the other wrapping around my waist. He pulls me to him, the kiss turning demanding as our mouths part, deliciously hungry and hot. The taste of him sits cold on my tongue like snow mixed with beer.
The kiss is moist and dirty and it goes on for a long time. By the time we pull apart for breath, we have stumbled onto the couch with me straddling his lap.
“Fuck…Ariadne, I missed your taste…” he exhales, his forehead touching mine as he keeps me glued to him.
“I missed you too,” I say, feeling a storm of butterflies flying inside my tummy.
“You’ve been on my mind since last Christmas. I wanted to ask you out but couldn’t because of…”
He trails off with a groan when I move over him, the hardness in his pants a thick promise of what he could do to me. His fingers grab onto me tighter, needing no permission to slip underneath my sweater and graze my softness.
“Because it’s wrong?” I move again, breathless with anticipation and he stays still, letting me use his body to seek more warmth in the chill—the warmth of a dirty kind.
“Nothing about you can be wrong.”
“Can we fuck?” I blurt out then bite my tongue, stopping my movement over him. He is staring at me, looking wildly taken aback. I flush, my hands unable to find a steady place to hold on to him as I dive into an explanation. “I mean…if you want to. I mean—it’s cold so I guess—it’s okay if you…I was just…Fuck! I’m rambling.”
A breezy laugh tumbles out of him. He tucks loose strands of my hair behind my ear and undoes my hair bun, letting the black mass fall loose over my shoulders.
“Ariadne?” His name from my mouth becomes huskier as his fingers trace the waistband of my jeans. “I will love to fuck you.”
The words are signal enough. Just like last Christmas, his hands do quick work to rid me of my sweater, his pupils glimmering with amber flames when my boobs are freed. He grabs them, massaging them with his calloused finger as I undo the buttons of his dress shirt.
The material parts, giving me a delicious view of his torso, sculpted like a model’s in the hours he spends in his private gym. I drop down, showering kisses, biting, and leaving marks as I trail the length of him. My kisses spell apologies and desire on his skin, my nails trailing a path of red of their own down his torso.
His hands drop my boobs as he throws his head back, groaning and enjoying what I give him.
When I reach his waistband, I do quick work unbuckling his belt and take his steel-hard cock in my hand. It is thick with need, dripping with pre-cum, the taste of which lands on my tongue as I take him into my mouth
“Fuck…” he groans, thrusting his hips up while fisting the hair on the back of my head.
Eyes on him, I bob my head, sucking more of him into me till he touches the back of my throat. I am lucky enough to not have a gag reflex that sparks a gleam in his pupils at the recollection of last Christmas. We fall into a pattern of him hitting the back of my throat as my warm cave descends his length with every thrust.
He pulls out of my mouth just as he begins to throb and pulls me up to his lap.
“I’m dying to taste you,” he murmurs, stripping the rest of my clothes off my body, my pajamas greeting his jeans on the floor.
He licks my nipples, nipping and sucking them. I moan loud enough for everyone within miles to hear if the blizzard wasn’t there. His body parts my legs as he descends low, licking my clit with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth.
I grasp the short strands of his hair, enjoying the bliss he drives from me as he does expert work on my pussy. His hands clasp my thighs firmly to prevent any movement as he sucks and French kisses my pussy. His fingers join, sliding into my impossible slickens, caressing his tongue inside me.
Pleasure ignites my veins, whimpers escaping me in curses as I ride his face mercilessly. He likes it rough and doesn’t complain when I seek his tongue greedily.
Soon, I am quivering with release, crying out his name. He laps my juices up, some dripping down his chin when he brings his head out from between my legs.
He stands up, pumping his cock once.
“You on the pill?” he inquires, his voice hopeful.
I nod, needing him inside me. He drags me to the edge of the couch and bends low, lining his cock with my entrance. I grasp onto his shoulders as he pushes in, swiftly moving inside and rooting himself so deep inside me. I feel him in my stomach and the pleasure it creates is immense. His face has an intense look on as he watches his cock disappear into me.
Curling my legs over the crook of his arms, he begins pounding into me. His strokes are hard, hitting magical spots inside my pussy and the sloshing sound we make transcends the sound of the blizzard.
“More…more…” I moan, crying and he takes my boobs in his hands, tweaking my nipples as his pounding turns into sharp snaps of his hips against mine.
With every thrust he grinds his pelvis against my clit, driving me insane.
“I pictured this Christmas,” he says between thrusts, growling the words. The legs of the couch drag along the floor as he fucks me with devotion. “I prayed that I got to spend it with you. That’s why I came here.”
“Looks like Santa just granted your wish.”
“He did.”
His pounds quicken, my body becoming his as we move together. A storm of release builds inside me and I nip him with my nails digging into his shoulder blades. Calling out his name with a shrill, I ride the release, biting my bottom lip so hard that a tangy taste of my blood gets sucked into my mouth.
I pant, the release so strong that it blinds me for moments. He keeps thrusting and after three short thrusts that rearrange my insides, he pulls out. He gives his cock one last rub and spills jets of his cum out, marking my stomach and boobs as he releases with a growl.
He sags above me for seconds before turning to lie on the couch and pulling me over his lap. We stay wrapped like that, breathing hard and sweating after the act.
His flaccid cock is quick to rise again when my knee brushes it. He meets my gaze, a lazy grin on him.
“So, another round?” he suggests, tracing the shape of my legs and reaching between my legs.
He cups me and I forget to breathe, embarrassed with how I am still dripping for him.
Laughing, I slap his arm. “I forgot how insatiable you are.”
“Only for you.”
He grunts as he rises, then picks me into his arms. Our lips meet again in a passionate kiss infused with lust as he carries me, already knowing where my bedroom is from the open door that leads to it. He drops me on the bed, his shoulders creating a barrier between my legs as he bends to crash our mouths together again.
“What should we do about your jackass colleagues?” he demands between hungry kisses.
“Nothing,” I reply with a moan as his mouth meets my neck, sucking on the skin there. “They can have their boring party. I’m having my own.”
“By fucking the boss?” he teases.
“By fucking the boss.”
Just like last Christmas…
