Arrogant Boss

His answering grin was filled with pure, masculine pride, all vulnerability suddenly wiped away. “I knew it!”

“But that’s hardly surprising. I have more limited experience than you do.”

“I’m not that much older. I’m not exactly looking to retire anytime soon, Ace.”

“Yeah, but-” I stopped. I didn’t know exactly how much I wanted to reveal, but Julian picked up on my hesitation with laser-focus. He lifted himself off me completely.

“But…?”

I threw an arm over my face, shielding my eyes from the morning light, and confessed. “Itmighthavebeenawhilebeforeyou.”

“What? Ace, talk to me.”

I sighed. “It might have been a while before you.”

“Really?” He tugged at my arm, prying it away from my face. “How long?”

“Two years.”

He looked floored. “I thought you said you had one-night-stands, back when we played that drinking game. I thought Ben was one?”

“I took one sip of the drink, because I’ve had a one-night-stand-once. Ben is the only one. And before that I was in a relationship, remember? I told you about that.”

Julian pulled me closer. “So I’m the third man you’ve ever slept with?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He made an amused sound. “You guess?”

“I know,” I corrected and pulled the comforter over me. “Gosh, how embarrassing.”

“Why would it be?” He dug me out, tucked me against his body again. “I love that you enjoy sleeping with me-you have no idea how much. And while it wouldn’t matter if there were more men before me, I’m selfishly glad you’ve not had more experience.”

I snorted. “Because I have less to compare you with?”

Julian’s hand smoothed across my stomach, traced the curve of my hip. “Because I don’t like the idea of sharing you, even with your memories. I know. It makes me sound terrible.”

I thought of the photos I’d seen of him and all the tanned, perfectly plucked women he kept on his arm. Jealousy was a trait I recognized well.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

He swept my hair away and kissed the nape of my neck. It was a sweet, gentle touch. “The hotel bathroom was a mistake,” he said softly.

“What?!”

“You deserved music, roses-the works. Hell, a bed, even. That’s what I had planned, you know, and then you… Well, I should have waited.”

I flipped him over and pinned him to the bed, straddling him. “No. No. That was exactly what I wanted, remember? Are you telling me that you didn’t enjoy it?”

Julian sighed, his hands on my hips. “You know I did.”

“Right. And so did I.” I bent and kissed him, pouring all my determination and want into the touch. “I’m not a delicate little thing, and I’m not in over my head. I love being with you. I want to keep being with you. Now, I’m going to go downstairs and make us some coffee, and start preparing breakfast. I’ll make you some too if you promise you won’t mope about?”

He sighed and smoothed his hands down my naked thighs. “Alright, alright. Let me just take a shower first.”

“Good.” I kissed him one last time and then bounced off the fluffy bed. “And I’m stealing one of your shirts!”

“Take them all!” He called as he headed into the bathroom. I chose one of his large button-downs and folded the shirtsleeves the way I’d seen him do so many times. In his wardrobe mirror, I looked flushed and happy, my cheeks glowing with life. My hair was a tousled mess, but I recognized a hopeless cause when I saw one. The shirt covered my butt and a bit of thigh, but other than that my legs were on full display. Perfect for a bit of teasing later.

I whistled as I turned on his espresso machine and dug out eggs from the fridge. Omelets. I had just begun chopping up chives and tomatoes when I heard a key turn in the front door.

I froze. What the hell?

Julian was still upstairs and I could hear the water running. Calling out would alert whoever was entering.

Still carrying the knife, I inched towards the hallway. I should have brought my phone down with me.

My heart was a hammer in my chest.

I paused when I heard the distinctly masculine sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Bro, are you home? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

Suddenly I was face to face with the infamous Ryan Hunt. A smaller, far less adult version of Julian-his hair longer and clothes baggier. His eyes widened when he saw what I was wearing and the knife in my hand.

“Ah,” he said-a whole world encompassed in that small word. “So that’s why he’s not answering.”

For a wild second I thought he was referring to the knife, that I’d done away with Julian, before rational though filtered back in. My heart still pounded.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “Yes. Sorry. He’s upstairs. Why don’t you come in and wait for him?”

“Nah, I don’t think he’ll want company,” Ryan ran a hand through his hair and started heading for the front door again. I remembered Julian’s remarks about his brother and frowned.

“No, please stay. I know he’ll be happy to see you. Do you want an omelet?” He looked torn, so I decided to really press. “I can make it with whatever you want. Ham, cheese, onions, tomatoes… Just let me know.”

His resolve broke, and he tugged off his jacket. “Ham and cheese then, thanks.”

We spoke a little as I finished up a couple of omelets. When asked what he does for a living, I learned that Ryan was doing ‘a bit of this and that,’ and I didn’t pry. He lived fifteen minutes away and occasionally he would go running with Julian in the mornings.

“Though we haven’t for a while,” he said, and his voice didn’t have that guarded tone I’d heard when he whipped open the door earlier. It had been a tone I recognized from my own younger years-back when you treated the world as if it might bite you every step of the way.

Julian appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. His hair wet and dark, but his expression was darker still.

Please don’t snap at him, I thought.

Ryan straightened. “Hi, Jules.”

“Hi.” Julian stepped over to me and leaned against the fridge. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“I came over on a whim,” Ryan said. I could see his knee bouncing under the center island.