Bossy Mr. Frosty Read online

I step forward, cradling his handsome face in my hands. “You’re a virgin?”

  “I know what I want. I’ve done other stuff. Just not that.”

  “I’ve never been with a man,” I rumble. “And the last time I was with a woman, it was years ago. Miserable and embarrassing. This is new for me too.”

  “We need supplies…uh, lube and condoms.” Panic gleams in his brown eyes. “And I…it might hurt.”

  I grab his hands, walking backward as I guide him from my kitchen to where my bed is under the window. He trembles, clearly nervous over the whole situation. Ever since he walked into my office, he’s been a picture of confidence. Seeing him shaken makes me want to hold him and keep him safe.

  “I just want you in my arms,” I murmur. “That’s all.”

  He relaxes and nods. “I trust you.”

  His words fill me with a fierce feeling I’ve never known before. I crash my lips to his, once again eager to taste his sweet mouth. Slowly, I guide him onto the bed. With him beneath me, wearing nothing but black briefs, I’m more turned on than I ever have been in my entire life. I grind against his dick with mine, loving the fantastic pleasure darting through me. His legs wrap around my hips as his fingers dig painfully into my shoulders.

  “I want to taste you,” I rasp out, an intense yearning overwhelming me. “Can I do that?”

  He swallows and nods. “Are you sure you want to? This is all new to you.”

  “It’s all I can think about.”

  Slowly, I slide his briefs down his thighs that are speckled with dark hair. The times I’ve been with women, they were smoothed to perfection. There’s something about the hair on his body that drives me wild with need. I want to lick all of it. Every single inch of him. He laughs when I chuck his briefs across the room, but it fades when I part his thighs, running my nose along his thick cock.

  “You smell like hazelnut here, too. Your scent drives me insane,” I growl, letting my lips brush along the soft skin of his dick. “Do you taste like it too?”

  A choked sound escapes him as I run my tongue along the underside of his cock, fascinated by the plump softness of the crown when I reach it. The salty bead of pre-cum only makes me thirst for more. I want to drain him of every drop, drinking him down and not wasting any of it. He moans when I wrap my hand around his dick and slide my lips around his thickness. I like the feel of him in my mouth. Based on the squirming and mewling he’s doing, I’d say he likes it too. As I suck and toy with him with my mouth, I use my hand to explore other parts of him. His balls are heavy and full, clearly aching for the release I’ll offer. I massage them and gently pull on them, listening for cues of what he likes and doesn’t. Curiosity gets the better of me and my fingers dance their way down to his hole. It’s puckered tight, clenching when I tease it with the pad of my finger.

  I want inside him.

  It won’t happen tonight, I’m sure of it, but I can still feel him. I collect some of my saliva from the base of his dick and then go back to teasing his hole until he’s relaxed, begging for more. Slowly, I press the tip of my finger inside him, never losing stride as I suck on him. He mutters out garbled pleas, his fingers tugging at my hair. In and out, I ease deeper and deeper into him. Once I’m as deep as I need to go, I finger his hole with purpose, testing the limits of the flesh—stretching and massaging.

  “Fuck, Adrian, fuck. I’m going to come,” he chokes out. “I need more.”

  He holds the backs of his thighs, drawing them further back and giving me more access. I press another finger into him, turned on by the needy whimpers coming from him. Curling them up, I locate a spongy part of him that must be his prostate based on how he cries out in pleasure. It doesn’t take but a few gentle strokes and he’s spurting inside my mouth, hot and without warning. The salty come is plentiful, and for a moment, I can’t swallow it quickly enough. Some spills out, running down my chin. As soon as his dick stops twitching, I slide off it and then set to licking up everything I missed. He winces when I slide my fingers out of his body.

  “I, uh, wow,” he mutters. “That was intense.”

  I crawl up his body, kissing him with less urgency. My dick aches for attention, but having him beneath me feels like enough to remain satisfied.

  “Want me to suck you off too?” he croaks out.

  “I just want to feel you while we kiss.” I punctuate my words with a thrust of my hips, sliding my dick along his wet, semi-soft one. It feels fucking wonderful. “Just like this.”

  With each buck of my hips, I get closer to the edge. I crave to do so many filthy things with him. Not tonight. Not this weekend. The things I want to do will take time and I’ll want to stretch them out over days and weeks and months. Maybe even years.

  “We could try,” he whispers. “I’m safe. I’ve been tested after my last boyfriend, even though we didn’t have sex.”

  I nip at his bottom lip. “I’m safe too, but we’re not fucking. Not until we have lube. I don’t want to hurt you.” I grip onto my dick, sliding it down past his balls to his hole. “But I do want to rub against you there.”

  “Yes,” he pleads. “It feels good.”

  “Roll over, Ry,” I beg. “I want to pretend I’m inside you.”

  He smiles at me. “I like when you call me Ry.”

  It takes some shuffling, but then his round ass is exposed to me, begging for my attention. I bite his ass cheek because I can’t look at it without marking it. His laughter fills my small home and makes my heart want to burst.

  I’ve never felt so alive.

  So consumed.

  I’ll never let Ry go. It’s a vow I feel in every fiber of my being. I don’t dare tell him, though, and frighten him away. I need him to stay.

  Pressing my body against his, I slide an arm beneath him as I kiss his shoulder. My dick is nestled between his cheeks, wet from my rubbing on his dick. I fuck along his crack, imagining I’m inside him instead. It’s the best feeling in the world. I get closer and closer to coming. When I feel the first spurt bursting out of me, I grab onto my dick and find his hole. He moans when I slightly push against the resistant flesh, the rest of my cum jetting into his body. It would be so easy to push all the way inside and feel a bliss I’ve never known, but that would hurt him.

  I never want to hurt him.

  Ever.

  So, I keep the crown of my cock barely pressed into him as I leak out the rest of my cum.

  “It burns, but it feels good,” he murmurs against the pillows. “I wish I could feel more of you.”

  Testing the resistance, I inch into him slightly. “Like that?”

  “More,” he chokes out.

  But I can’t go any more. Not without some sort of lubricant. My dick wants all the way in, but it’s not wet enough and doesn’t move any further.

  “Use your cum. Get it wet.”

  My dick is still hard. Like I could come again if I tried hard enough. Feels impossible. Maybe after years of not feeling desire, I’m overwhelmed with the need for release after release. With careful movements, I pull out of him. My expended cum oozes out of his red hole. I eagerly scoop it up, smearing it all over my dick. Then, before we can change our minds, I ease back into him.

  “Adrian,” he whimpers, fisting the blankets, drawing them to him.

  His asshole tightens around me, making me nearly black out.

  “Re-relax,” I rumble. “Please.”

  He nods and then his body is accepting me, inch by inch. A small sob escapes him, entwining around my heart. Once I’m fully seated inside him, I don’t move my hips. I kiss the shell of his ear and his neck and shoulder. I murmur how fucking perfect he his. How I’ll never let him go. How I’ve never felt such all-consuming need for another person in all my life.

  “You’re changing me, Ry,” I whisper, my lips on his shoulder. “And I like it. So fucking much.”

  Six

  Rylan

  Two days later…

  Reality is a bitch.

  All weeke
nd, I’ve remained in the bossy Mr. Frosty’s bed. Naked. Pleasured beyond belief. Cared for. As much as I’ve loved every second of it, I know it’s all coming to an end. It’s Sunday night and tomorrow we’ll be back to the grind. I’ll do best to remember I’m a weekend fling. Nothing more.

  Night purrs from my stomach, his black tail swishing back and forth as he teases his claws out, a subtle threat that he could puncture me with them at any moment. I stroke my palm down his furry spine.

  “You want red or white wine?” Adrian asks from the kitchen.

  I dart my gaze over to him. He threw on clothes long enough to cook for us, but the moment our meal concludes, he’ll be naked with his mouth back on mine. A thrill shivers down my spine. My ass is sore as hell, but I still yearn to have him inside me. Again and again and again.

  “I’m not old enough to drink. You do know I graduated high school like eight months ago,” I tease with a grin. “You robbed the cradle, remember, old man?”

  He flips me off. “You’ll get red, kid.”

  Kid.

  I snort out a laugh. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  Turning away from the stove, he flashes me a sexy grin that produces a dimple on one cheek. As the weekend wore on, he gifted me more and more of his smiles. Now I wonder what tomorrow will bring. Will he go back to the cold, aloof man from before? Will he treat me differently? I hate that I’ve changed things by agreeing to come here for the weekend. I should have just said no.

  But then I’d be saying no to the most incredible weekend of my life.

  Everything about Adrian is so intense. The way he stares at me. Kisses me. Makes love to me or fucks me depending on his mood. I’m powerless to stop this hold he has on me.

  What happens when he lets go?

  The sting of bitter tears burns in my eyes. Night, sensing my mood, scampers off my chest and hops off the bed. I curl onto my side, staring at the photo closest to me on the nightstand.

  Dante Kincaid.

  I’d asked if it were him last night. Adrian fondly told me stories about his best friend. If I didn’t know better, I’d be jealous of the way he talks about him, especially when I learned Dante was gay. But Adrian only seems to have eyes for me and speaks of Dante in a brotherly way.

  It doesn’t matter.

  Not after tonight.

  Footsteps pad my way and then the bed sinks down beside me.

  “You okay?” Adrian asks, running a fingertip along the outside of my arm.

  “Yep.” My clipped tone causes a tension between us, the air thick and crackling with it. “I think maybe I should go.”

  “No,” Adrian bites, his voice slightly shaking.

  I roll onto my back, my eyes drifting to meet his. “Tomorrow—”

  “Stay and eat with me. Tomorrow will be fine.”

  I study his handsome, vulnerable face for a long moment. “A quick bite and then I need to go.”

  His brows crash together and he opens his mouth like he might argue. In the end, he lets out a heavy sigh and nods. “Dinner and then I’ll drive you home.”

  * * *

  I ruined it.

  I fucking knew this would happen.

  It’s been nearly an entire week since I spent the weekend with Adrian only to be pretty much ignored ever since. I knew it would happen and I did it anyway. I was an itch for him to scratch. Nothing more. If I didn’t love this job so much, I would’ve quit days ago because the shame and embarrassment is almost too much to bear.

  “…and then this asshole has the nerve to hit on my girlfriend,” Tad continues, drawing my attention back to him. “Like I’m not standing right there.”

  I take another bite of my sandwich, nodding at him to continue.

  He spears his fingers into his hair, messing up the gel. “So I tell him to move the fuck along, you know?”

  “Did he?”

  “Nope. Fucker took a swing at me!”

  “Did he land the punch?”

  He rubs at his cheek. “It didn’t bruise but feel this.” He grabs my hand, yanking it from my sandwich to force me to feel the knot on his face. “Feel it? It’s hard and—”

  “Mr. Moore!”

  I yank my hand back, my eyes going wide when they land on Adrian standing in the break room doorway. His face is red and his eyes seem to glow with rage.

  “Yes?” I choke out.

  “A word,” Adrian growls. “My office now.”

  He storms out of the break room and the slam of his office door makes the entire building seem to rattle.

  “Dude,” Tad hisses, shaking his head, “what the hell did you do? He’s pissed. Don’t get fired, man. I like you.”

  I let out a sigh as I toss all my trash in the bin. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Tad’s furled brows indicate he thinks it’s anything but fine.

  “I’ll see you around.” I take my time walking through the office. When I reach Adrian’s door, I suck in a calming breath before rapping on the dark mahogany. “Can I come in?”

  He grunts out his approval. I push through the door and close it behind me. Anger seems to radiate from him as he paces the floor in front of his desk. Shoving my hands into my too-tight slacks pockets, I wait for him to get to it.

  “Are you firing me?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounds. “If there’s something I’ve done wrong, I can fix it. I want to be the best assistant—”

  “Why him?” he demands, fiery eyes pinning me to my spot. “Why Tad and not me?”

  I frown at him. “W-What?”

  “I kept replaying in my head what I did wrong Sunday night. I couldn’t pinpoint it.” His brows furl as sadness glimmers in his eyes. “I don’t know how I scared you away, but I was just sure I could get you back. I was planning on a way.”

  Confusion wars within me. “Adrian—”

  “But it wasn’t me,” he chokes out. “You wanted him all along.”

  Silly, silly man.

  “I don’t want him. And had you not ignored me all week, you’d know that,” I throw back, the hurt in my voice making it quiver. “I knew going home with you would ruin this job and I was right. You acted as though I weren’t there.”

  He storms over to me, standing so close our chests nearly touch. “I could never ignore you.”

  “But—”

  His lips brush against mine with tenderness that makes my chest ache. “Never, Ry. I’ve been trying to give you your space. Tried not to upset you any further. But then…then you were touching him.” His nostrils flare. “When you’re supposed to be mine. I couldn’t hold back any longer.”

  I melt at his words. “You still want me?”

  “And here I thought you were brilliant,” he growls, cupping my cheeks and pulling my face to his. “Of course I still want you. I never stopped wanting you. I wanted you the second I saw you.”

  “I am brilliant,” I tease back. “And I still want you too, silly.”

  His kiss is urgent and needy—as though he’s trying to convey in one kiss how good we can be together if we keep practicing. I lose myself to the tender way he ravishes and owns my mouth with his. He manages to guide me to his desk, pinning me against it.

  “I didn’t want to ruin this job,” I admit, swallowing hard. “I thought that—”

  “You thought wrong,” he growls, running his fingers through my hair. “You know more about this job than my entire staff combined, including me. Your job was never in peril. Hell, mine is, though, because you’re good enough to do my job too.” He nips at my bottom lip. “I want you so fucking badly, Ry. I need you. Seeing Tad touch you made me insane with jealousy. I was seconds from ramming my fist through his face.”

  I bite back a chuckle. Poor Tad. He just has one of those faces people want to punch.

  “Jealousy on you looks pretty hot.” I tug on the knot on his tie. “So my job is safe?”

  “Your employment at my magazine is safe,” he says, smirking, “but your job? Not so much.”

 
A mixture of dread and confusion has me pulling back. “What?”

  “You’re too overqualified to be my assistant. You need more responsibility because you’re smart and market savvy. An asset to this magazine, which is why,” he says as he yanks his tie off the rest of the way and tosses it onto his desk, “I’m promoting you.”

  I laugh. “Shut up.”

  “I will not shut up.” He flashes me his rare grin I missed all week, the dimple appearing. “Production manager. I want to see if you can handle it.”

  “Oh, I can handle it,” I assure him, my heart pumping double time in my chest.

  “Good. Consider yourself promoted.” He strokes my hair away from my face, studying me up close. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at people or emotions or relationships. I didn’t want to scare you off in case I came on too strong last weekend, so I tried to let you work through what was wrong.”

  “No,” I say with sigh. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t want to lose this job. This thing with us felt too good to be real, so I told myself it wasn’t. I tried to focus on the work and not the crazy way you make me feel.”

  His lips find my neck and he presses small kisses on the flesh, making me shiver. “We’re both sorry dumbasses. We’ve established that now. Question is, how are we going to fix it?”

  “I could get on my knees and properly thank you for my promotion.”

  He palms my hard dick over my slacks. “Or, I could get on mine to remind you how much better than Tad I am.”

  “There’s no comparison,” I murmur with a groan. “How about you lock the door and then fuck me over your desk since we can’t agree on who gets to suck dick first? I think you fucking me is something we both can agree on.”

  “Now you’re talking.” His forehead rests on mine. “As long as you come home with me tonight and every night after.”

  “You won’t get sick of me?”

  “I still have ninety-seven more versions of my French toast to dazzle you with to make you fall in love with me.”

  I don’t tell him the first version pretty much did the trick.

  “Do you think things happen for a reason?” I ask, brushing a kiss over his lips.