The Boss Vol. 3: a Hot Billionaire Romance Read Free Page A

blissful end. I wanted it so very badly. I wanted to lose myself in that piece of madness that existed in the tiny spaces between our skin.
    I loved that little pocket of time.
    I wanted to wrap it around me.
    I reached for it. Reached deeper inside myself and couldn’t find it.
    The ache was pervasive. Frustration and need poured over my senses and bled into the chill of the pearly light.
    That wasn’t right.
    I wasn’t on the rooftop and he wasn’t inside me.
    I rolled over onto my belly, my hand slipping down between the bed and my aching skin, but my overalls were in the way. And I was alone.
    My breath came in pants and I screamed into my pillow.
    Dammit.
    Goddammit.
    My body was on fire. The rooftop was a nightmare and a fantasy all wrapped into one. Blake. Goddamn Blake. I’d gone to sleep cursing his name. Was it any wonder that I woke with a raging orgasm snatched away into dreams of him?
    I flipped onto my back and palmed my breast under the bulky cable knit sweater. The scratchy wool just made things worse. I struggled out of it and curled into myself. My breasts were tender and my nipples were so tight I could barely stand it. My thighs quivered with the need to go over. All I needed to do was reach down and stroke a few times to ease the ache.
    Would I forever be calling out his name as my body betrayed me?
    I clamped my thighs together, trapping my hands between my knees. I knew how to please myself. I’d been alone for so long that some nights called for it, but I didn’t want the storm chaser to be Blake’s name, so I resisted the urge.
    The madness climbed. I breathed through it.
    The need would go away. It had before.
    I sat up and flipped the buckles of my overalls free. I wiggled out of them, flicking the lightweight cotton across the room to my laundry bin. I hurried into the shower and blasted the hot water against my tingling skin. I nearly poached myself as I stood under the scalding spray, soaping away his scent, scrubbing my scalp.
    I couldn’t quite stand the idea of a cool shower with the wind howling outside the windows and the tide roaring with a late fall storm, but I finally had to turn the taps to cold.
    I had to push away the lust that threatened to put me under.
    The icy needles of water didn’t help.
    It tightened my nipples to diamond points and created another layer of torture on my skin. The shrill old-fashioned phone ring from my cell saved me. Only one person had that ringtone. I slapped the water off and wrapped myself in my huge bathrobe. Heedless of the puddles I was making, I rushed to my phone.
    “Hi, Philomena.”
    “Oh, thank God. I thought for sure I was going to get your voicemail.”
    “I was in the shower.”
    “You’re not working?” The hopeful tone made me smile.
    “No, that job didn’t work out.”
    “That’s wonderful!”
    I laughed. “Gee thanks, Phil.”
    “No, no. I’m sorry.”
    I could see her ringed fingers fluttering in my head. How many times had I talked her down from a full blown flutter? Too many to count.
    She sighed. “You know what I mean. You’re an artist, not a corporate assistant. That sort of environment will kill your creativity.”
    But it was okay to do all her bookkeeping and paperwork of course, but I didn’t mention that. She was right. I’d never been suited for the office. Well, not until Blake. I’d adapted almost immediately. I liked taking care of his things and showing him just how capable I was.
    God.
    What the hell was I thinking?
    I’d gone in there to convince him to sell me my house somehow, not take over his assistant’s job. Just because I was good at a job didn’t mean I was meant for it.
    “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
    “Are you all right, sweetie?”
    My eyes misted at Philomena’s careful tone. “I’m getting there.”
    “I really wanted you here yesterday, sweetheart.”
    “I know.” I played with a fraying string off my cuff.
    “Margaret made the most amazing turkey. It was just like