Page 101 of My Favorite Boss

I knew Bane didn’t apologize. He never seemed to care for others’ opinions. But he did care about mine. He cared about me in his own way. Which, most of the time, was wonderful.

“I’m not a tool to keep your mother away.”

“I know.”

“I’m not a toy. I have feelings.”

He slid his arm around my waist. “I know,” he murmured in my ear, teasing the lobe with his tongue. I shut my eyes, trying not to whimper. He pulled me closer, and I felt every inch of him. Every. Single. Hard. Inch.

“I love your feelings,” he murmured. “They remind me to be human. You make me feel too, Maggie darling. Sometimes it scares me how much I feel for you.”

With a little cry, I turned, flinging my arms around his neck. He took my mouth, kissing me with a desperation that had me curling my toes. He kissed me as if he needed me more than life. I kissed him back, shocked at how much he could make me want him so quickly.

“I need you,” I whispered as he lifted me.

“Hold on, baby. I got you.”

Like a pro, he pushed up my skirt, the lace parting for him as if it was welcoming him in.

“We can’t— The door⁠—”

In a graceful move, he stepped to the side, pulling the door shut. I heard the click as he locked the handle, and the automatic light went off, leaving only the dim EXIT light over the door to save us from total darkness. I reached between us, fumbling with his belt, and he groaned as I slid my hand inside his pants, caressing him.

“Hold on to the shelves,” he demanded. “Tight.”

I did as he instructed, and a moment later, I heard his pants hit the floor. Once again, he wrapped his hands around my thighs, and then my underwear was tugged away. When he slammed into me, I gasped, throwing my head back, hitting the shelf.

“Easy, darling,” he murmured. “I need you conscious.”

“Fuck me, Alex. Now.”

And he did.

I grasped the shelves as he began to move. Hard, tight rolls of his hips kept him lodged inside me as our bodies swayed together. He pushed me higher, opening me wider, and hitting me in the perfect spot, making me see stars behind my eyelids. There was no finesse about our coupling. No sweet words murmured. All I heard were the sounds of us. Our skin touching and gliding. Our bodies meshing, our breathing hard, bursts of air escaping. His low groans. My hushed whimpers. He surrounded me. Claimed me. Made me feel alive like no one else had ever done. Ever would do.

My orgasm hit like a shooting star, exploding me into thousands of tiny shards of light. He kept going, finally stilling as he succumbed, my name a long whisper in my ear. Then he sagged against me, burying his head in my neck, his chest heaving fast. He slid his hand up my torso, cupping my face and kissing me. Softly now. Sweetly.

He stepped back, easing me onto my feet. We fumbled with our clothing, and he reached for me, wrapping me in his arms. “Still mad?”

“No.”

He kissed me again. “We’ll talk tonight, Magnolia.”

“Okay.”

“Done arranging the closet for today? Ready to come back to the office? I have things to keep you busy.”

“I’m sure you do.”

He chuckled and bent, kissing me. “Work-related.”

“Okay, then.”

He attempted to open the door, frowning. “It’s stuck.”

“You have to turn it—hard. It sticks.”

He tried and failed. Rammed the door with his shoulder, but it didn’t budge. He reached for the light, flicking it on. Nothing happened.