Fighting for my Billionaire Boss
Cynthia Sax
Genre: Contemporary, Erotic Romance
Date of Publication: February 1, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-943576-59-3
Cover Artist: Erin DameronHill
Book Description:
Love is worth the fight.
My boss, Brick Armitage, is one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He’s handsome, young, and the billionaire CEO of an online company. Brick dates stunning supermodels and famous actresses, the most beautiful women on the planet.
I’m determined to be the next woman he kisses, touches, pleases. To land the man I love, I’ll become the delicate lady he seems to prefer. No cussing. No sprawling over the furniture. No punching the pretty out of Brick’s trash-talking ex.
But when I fail at this and the footage of my brawling goes viral, will I lose my sophisticated billionaire forever, or will he realize a scrapper is exactly who he needs?
Excerpt:
I’m graceful, I
tell myself as I weave between the cubicles. A cardboard tray containing
breakfast for my boss and myself is balanced on my right palm. Not a drop of
the liquid in the ugly brown disposable cups has spilled.
Because I’m a
fuckin’ gazelle, the most elegant of the antelopes.
“Morning, Lu,”
Chanelle calls out. The women gathered around her repeat the greeting.
I smile and
wave. They wave back.
They don’t
invite me to join them.
This oversight
could be due to my position in the organization. I’m the assistant to Brick
Armitage, CEO and founder of the online insurance company we work for. He’s
intimidating. I’m his second in command, privy to all of his thoughts and
actions.
But the lack of
invitation is more likely due to the fact that I’m not a real girl.
Oh, I was born a
female and have all of the necessary parts—breasts, small yet still noticeable,
an ass, also small, shoulder-length curly brown hair, a dainty, some would say,
elfin face. Most men, including my boss, tower over me.
I simply lack
the training most girls get.
My mother left
when I was three years old, unable to handle my three brothers and me. It was easier
for my father to treat me like another boy, dressing me in jeans, taking me to
ballgames, teaching me how to fight.
I didn’t give a
shit about this when I was younger. I was proud of my rowdy nature, that I
could hold my own with my brothers and their friends.
It was when I
became interested in boys and they didn’t return my interest, continuing to
treat me like one of the guys, that I started to care. Not a lot. But enough to
read fashion magazines and watch tutorials on applying makeup.
Then I met
Brick, my sexy manwhore of a boss, and that caring was compounded by a zillion
times. He captured my heart, although he doesn’t know this. Accustomed to
dating ultra-feminine supermodels and famous actresses, he doesn’t see me as a
woman.
I’m determined
to change his view.
I make a beeline
to his office, my pastel blue skirt swirling around my thighs, my heels
thumping against the industrial gray carpet.
My boss has his
door partially open. I scrunch my forehead. He’s normally not here this early
in the morning.
I knock, don’t
wait for an answer, and push inside, a smile on my face.
The space smells
of his woodsy cologne and him. I breathe deeply, taking that part of him inside
of me, and desire unfurls within me, a steady, throbbing need I experience
whenever I’m in my billionaire’s presence.
The man himself
sits behind his big wooden desk, his head bowed, the overhead lights picking up
the ink-blue highlights in his black hair. Brick is clad in his usual dark
suit, white shirt, dark tie. He’s frowning down at his tablet screen, his lips
as grimly set as always.
My boss is
SERIOUS, in all caps, rarely cracking a smile, and the stormy pent-up passion
constantly brewing inside him turns me on. I set the tray on his desk. “You
beat me into the office this morning.” Usually, I’m first in. “Why are you here
so early?”
He lifts his
chin, giving me a clear view of his face.
I gasp.
“Fuck.” I gape
at him, forgetting my goal of having a cuss-free day. “What the hell happened
to you?” I rush around the desk, needing to survey the damage.
Brick swivels
his chair to face me. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not
nothing.” I trace the scratches on his left cheek, the red gouges in his
perfectly tanned skin. “Who hurt you?” I demand. “Tell me who is responsible
for this and I’ll smack that person into the next century.” No one hurts my
boss, the man I secretly love, and gets away with it.
“You aren’t
smacking anyone, Miss Henderson.” He covers my hand with his, pressing my palm
against him. “As you constantly remind me, you’re a lady.”
“Don’t joke
about this.” I glare at him.
“You’re right. I
shouldn’t joke about it.”
He is seated in
his black leather captain’s chair. I stand before him, my hand on his face. His
hand is on mine, holding me to him. He’s my boss yet this feels right. I’m
meant to be here, to be touching him.
Brick’s gaze
lifts and locks with mine. His brown eyes darken with emotion. “There’s
something I should tell you.”
“Yes?” I lean
toward him. He’ll tell me now that he wants me, that he can’t live without me.
Brick will kiss me and touch me and make me his. My thighs graze his parted
knees and I tremble, feeling that contact in my soul.
Brick leans
forward also. Our lips are a whisper apart. That connection I always feel
between us intensifies, pulling us together, linking us in a way that is more
than physical, more than intellectual.
His breath wafts
against my cheeks. My heart pounds.
Should I kiss
him? Should I?
Yes, I’m going
to risk—
“Fuck. I can’t
do this.” He sighs and releases me.
Damn it. I
waited too long and the moment is gone.
About the Author:
Cynthia Sax, USA Today bestselling author, writes contemporary, sci-fi, and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
For more information on other books by Cynthia, visit her website: www.CynthiaSax.com
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