Page 28 of Sexy Bad Boss

Myra’s standing in the shower with me, half naked and staring at my groin like she’s dying for a taste of my lollipop.

Nope, I can’t say no. I can’t turn it off. Not now. Not when this feels so damn right.

With my shoulder propped against the wet tiles, I slide my left hand around her waist and pull her to me. She comes willingly, wrapping her arms around my neck and standing on tiptoe. “I’ve wanted to kiss you properly for so long,” she mumbles against my lips.

She has? Well, hell, I’d better give her what she wants. After all, my lips weren’t damaged in the fall, and they’re as eager to find out if this forbidden treat is as sweet as I anticipate it will be.

I cant my head and open my mouth, flicking my tongue against her bottom lip. She gasps and opens for me, her tongue teasing mine while I sweep inside her mouth, exploring, discovering the honeyed taste that is all Myra. She’s delicious, and I want so much more.

I want her tit in my mouth.

Breaking the kiss, I press my palm against her lower back while I lean forward, kissing a trail along her neck, down across her chest to the prize. That dark, rosy, hard-as-an-eraser nipple. I suck it into my mouth greedily; Myra arches while letting out a guttural cry that shoots straight to my groin and bucks my hips like this is the first time I’ve ever had sex in my life.

Her fingers scrabble against the waistband of my shorts, sliding between the material and my skin until they brush against my rigid cock and I let out the same damn noise she did.

“My Supergirl.”

She doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at me. Her entire focus seems to be on the bubble of pleasure we are creating. She tugs at my shorts, pushing them down over my ass. My cock springs free, bobbing enthusiastically while she pulls away from me so that her nipple leaves my mouth with an audible pop. Bending at the waist, she carefully extracts my bad leg from the shorts, but she doesn’t straighten right away. Instead, she drops to her knees before me, her mouth inches from my aching member, her hands on my hips. It’s a glorious sight, one I never thought I wished for, yet right now is my greatest fantasy. Maybe it’s the whole forbidden fruit concept. Maybe it’s the fact I can’t remember the last time I got a blowjob.

Or maybe it’s Myra.

She lifts her gaze, finally looking me in the eye, and I very nearly shoot my load right there. She’s perfection, utterly gorgeous with her blonde hair plastered to her head, those big, blue eyes blinking against the spray of water behind her. She looks…aroused. Like she wants this as much as I do.

“Yes,” I whisper, as if she’s asked a question, or maybe it’s there in her eyes.

Dropping her gaze, she opens her mouth while her fingers dig into my skin, and then her lips are wrapped around my cock and she’s swallowing me down, and it’s just like my damn fantasy from this morning. It even feels exactly the same.

I try to cup her head with my good hand, but I can’t maintain my balance, so I press it against the shower wall, close my eyes, and allow Myra to do whatever the hell she pleases. Which pleases me. Hoo boy, does it. So much so that I’m about to lose it and she’s only been working me for a few minutes.

Gasping, I try to push her away, to warn her that my cum is about to coat her throat if she doesn’t stop, but all that does is make her latch on tighter. And then she’s sucking me in and out as fast as she can, her hands cupping my ass, holding me steady, and there’s no way in hell I can stop now.

“Ngngow!” The noises I make don’t even sound human as she pulls the orgasm out of me and I explode with the force of a freaking B52 bomber. “Christ.” I fall back against the wall, my one good leg unable to hold me up anymore. Myra gradually slows her ministrations until she releases me and moves away, turning to face the spray of water before climbing to her feet. Without looking at me, she shoves her shorts down her legs. Her rounded ass is so damn creamy and flawless, I have this irrational urge to spank her, to leave a red handprint on her skin. And then I want to kiss the reddened skin, massage it for a moment before sliding my hand between her ass cheeks and running my fingers along her seam until I find her nub. I want to stroke her there while I ease myself into her from behind, and I want to slide in and out of her at a leisurely pace, torturing her while bringing her pleasure at the same time, until she’s mindless and begging me to go faster. And I will, pumping as urgently as she was sucking me off a moment ago, until her inner muscles contract and she screams as the orgasm tears through her body.

How the hell am I supposed to do any of that? I have one good hand and one usable leg, and that leg’s shaky at best. I can’t even keep myself upright. Hell, I can’t bathe alone, not that I’m not appreciative of Myra’s help. In more ways than one.

But I can’t reciprocate, and it pisses me off because if we’re going to shift our relationship to this level, if we’re going to break the rules like this, I want it to be worth it for her. I want it to be perfect, to give her everything she deserves, and at the moment, I can’t give her a damn thing.

Son of a bitch, this is karma. It’s biting me in the ass, reminding me of what a louse I am. I’m her boss and I’ve just taken advantage of my admin in the worst possible way. I’ve changed the dynamics of our relationship in a way that we probably can’t ever bounce back from. This is so much worse than Larry and Marge. I’m the owner of the company, for Christ’s sake. How the hell am I supposed to expect my employees to follow the rules when I don’t?

The icing on this incredibly inappropriate cake is that I should let her go now. I shouldn’t continue to ask her to stay on, to try to find ways to keep her with me. It’s the most logical thing to do. When her two weeks are up, she can move on to whatever new career choice she chooses, and this will eventually become nothing more than a distant memory. One I’ll be fond of forever, but no more than that.

Except that’s not what I want. I don’t want her to leave. In fact, I want more of what we just did. I want to pay her back in kind, twofold. I want to do it again and again until we’re exhausted, until we’ve burned as many calories as running a marathon would.

And I want her to stay with the company.

But she can’t. I can’t. We can’t. This thing, this monster I’ve just created, it won’t work. It isn’t right.

I don’t know what to do. All I know is…

“Myra, we shouldn’t have done that.”