Kissing the Boss

The initial shock of Maleficent’s lips claiming mine left me briefly paralyzed.

At first, I was like… What the…? I’m being kissed.

Then I was like… Holy wow, I’m being kissed well.

After that, it was all just… Mmm. Nice.

His lips were warm and soft, more of a tease than a true caress, as if he were testing the waters to make sure I wanted it too. I found myself closing my eyes and swaying toward him, cupping his face between my hands and delighting in the texture of his jaw against my fingers. He was clean-shaven and yet still sandpaper rough.

After exerting the slightest amount of pressure, making me whimper for more, he drew himself away, sucking in a soft, satisfied hiss as he went. “Damn,” he murmured.

Exactly.

I felt dizzy and bereft when his heat and intoxicating smell left me. I wanted him back.

“That was…” I shook my head and tried to recapture my equilibrium. “That was…”

“Not enough,” he finished for me before coming in for more and drowning me back under.

The next kiss wasn’t quite as soft. A little more demanding, a little more urgent, he slid four fingers around the back of my neck while his thumb traced my jaw. His mouth opened and tongue sought mine. I met him lick for lick, greedy for another round.

A groan rumbled from his throat, one part tortured, three parts gratified. “Jesus, you’re perfect. You are so perfect.” His palms slipped around my backside and cupped me before squeezing firmly. “Way too perfect.”

The praise made me feel powerful. Delicious. I needed more of this.

A little too eager, I lifted onto my toes, trying to get closer to him. My chest bumped into his and whatever he had packed into his fake breasts was some sturdy stuff. The firm, unrelenting protrusions caught me off guard, and I started to stumble backward, but his hand slipped around the base of my spine, catching me back to him.

His fake breasts bumped into my real ones once more.

A laugh blurted from me.

He pulled back, sounding amused. “What?”

“Your boobs,” I tried to explain through the giggles. I slapped my hands over my mouth, mortified about being unable to keep my cool. But holy hell, it had felt as if we’d been having a titty war, and his knockers had kicked mine’s ass. Seriously, I might have a bruise developing on my left breast. “Ouch.”

“Oh shit.” He slapped his hands over his chest, cupping his offensive bosom. “I forgot all about those.”

“They surprised me,” I admitted.

“I’ll bet.” Then he hissed out a breath before admitting, “This is slightly awkward.” A second later, he shoved them up. “Oh. That’s better. They’d fallen down some.” Rolling his shoulders until he was even more comfortable, he added, “I’m starting to realize why you women value bras so much.”

I blurted out another laugh and couldn’t seem to stop. “Oh my God.” Tears slid down my cheeks. As I clutched my aching abdomen, already sore from laughing so hard, I bent at the waist and rested my hands on my knees. “This has got to be the strangest encounter I’ve ever had with anyone.”

“You can say that again.” Maleficent chuckled along with me, his head shaking slowly.

“I’m serious,” I said, wiping my tears off my face and straightening to face him. “I mean, have you ever done anything remotely like this before?”

“What?” he asked, making himself sound clueless before he added, “Made out with someone I just met twenty minutes ago, or put the moves on a complete stranger while wearing a dress and fake breasts? Yeah, no. Both are firsts for me too. But I gotta say, sharing them with you has been… Nice.” He stepped toward me, turning serious. “It’s been downright amazing, actually.”

The low timbre of his voice made my hormones shudder with wicked delight.

“Yeah,” I murmured before I could check myself. Oh hell, what was I admitting? Should I let him know how much he affected me?

Then I decided, yes, I definitely should right about the time he sucked in a breath and wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, the touch warm and persuasive.

Tipping his head forward, he pressed our brows together. “Do we have to stop yet?”

I swear, my restraint around this guy was non-existent. I heard myself telling him, “No,” before I could even rationally think up a good, sturdy rejection. “I hope not.”

“Thank God.”

With a moan of pleasure, he smashed his mouth back to mine and thrust his tongue between my teeth. The kiss became primal. Savage. I climbed him, and he helped hoist me up by gripping my ass again and then backing me into a tree. When my spine met bark, I wound my legs around his narrow waist before he ground against me and twined his tongue with mine.

Nothing existed but his mouth, his body, his smell which drugged me into forgetting everything else. It was surreal and yet the most vividly real thing I’d ever experienced.

When he came up for air, I panted and clung to him, dizzy with need.

He kept me protectively cuddled against the trunk of the tree as he whispered his lips across my cheekbone to my ear. “You’re shaking. I can’t see your expression. Are you doing okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“I don’t…” No, I didn’t want to stop, but what I said was, “I don’t know.” I hid my face in the crook of his neck, seeking comfort as much as I escaped reality. “My head is spinning. This is crazy. This is just so crazy.”

He pressed his lips to my temple. “Trust me, I know.”

“I mean, oh my God, I don’t even know your name,” I went on, blurting out my panic that was beginning to grow now that his lips were off mine and he was making me think rationally. “Or what your face looks like. Or—”

“Shh. It’s okay. I know.” He traced my cheek tenderly with his nose before tucking my stray piece of hair behind my ear. “This is definitely wild and unexpected, I agree.” His touch was extremely gentle and feather-light as if he were trying to figure out what I looked like from feel alone. “But at least learning names and faces is one thing we can fix. Here…”

After finding my hand, he wound our fingers together and tugged me away from the tree before starting through the courtyard and leading me away.

“What…” I shook my head even as I followed him willingly. “Where’re we going?”

“I want to see your face too. And learn who you are. So I’m taking you inside. Where there’s light. We can introduce ourselves to each other there.”

But instead of calming me, that idea only ratcheted the anxiety even more. “What? No!” I skidded to a halt, making him stop as well.

“What?” He turned to me, his confusion oozing through the dark. “Why not?”

“Because…” I started, not sure how to explain myself, because seriously, why not? I didn’t exactly know why not. I just knew I was suddenly nervous. “What if… What if…” There were too many variables to list, I ended up blurting out the most embarrassing and vain fear I had. “What if you don’t like what you see? I mean, I could be hideously disfigured, or something?”

My hair had to be horribly matted after wearing it under the Power Ranger helmet mask—which I’d totally lost during all the kissing—and I’d put zero makeup on before leaving the house, and geesh, I had the tiniest gap between my two front teeth. My dad had always talked about how cute it was, but what if it turned this guy off?

What if he thought I was—

“Hey.” His voice was soft and reassuring as he drifted the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Don’t worry. My sister’s disfigured, and she’s one of the most beautiful people I know. I’m not out to judge, I’m just curious. Aren’t you curious?”

Oh Lord, that was the most perfect answer I think a person could ever give. Something inside me melted. I wanted to impress him even more now. And so my apprehensions rose. But I ended up nodding. “Yes, I’m curious too,” all the while silently begging, please like what you see, please like what you see, as he once again towed me toward the light of the open door.

We cleared the bushes and then there was nothing but an open expanse of asphalt between us and the truth. If I looked up at him now, I’d be able to see the features of his face.

Fear made me stare fixedly straight ahead and not up to him. “What if someone else is in the hallway?” I asked. I wasn’t exactly ready to stop what we’d started in the courtyard. But other people would totally put a damper on the situation.

“We can go to my office for privacy if you want,” he assured. “I just need to see you.”

I began to nod, even as he tugged me through the doorway. But then my brow knit with confusion.

“Wait. Office?” I repeated. “You have your own office? Are you a department head?”

I swore, only department heads had their own office at JFI. The company was split into eight departments: Dresses, Shirts, Pants, Jackets, Belts, Shoes, Undergarments, and Purses. Lana headed Dresses, my stepbrothers got Shoes and Purses, and Jackets went to Nash, which left four departments heads after that, two of which were run by women, one an older married man, and then finally a man who was so short he was barely five feet high (definitely not this guy).

So then, who—

“I’m not just a department head,” Maleficent said as he stopped barely inside the building and turned to face me. “I’m—”

“Nash.”

The word gasped from me as shock spiraled through my extremities.

“Oh my God. You’re Nash. You’re Nash-Nash.”

He was barely recognizable. The headpiece, making up the horns of his costume, gave him a widow’s peak he normally didn’t have and transformed the angular shape of his face into something more oval. His deep-red lipstick was smeared, probably from kissing me, also altering his appearance. And he wore dark purple eyeshadow, coated all the way up to his eyebrows—eyebrows that had been painted black to put an emphasized arch in them. Yet I knew exactly who he was.

Ezra Nash.

The co-CEO of my father’s company. The Nash my stepmother wanted to claim as her boy toy. The Nash who strode down the halls of JFI in intimidating, yet super-hot business suits, giving me the impression no one ever touched him or joked with him or certainly kissed him while he wore a dress. The very Nash I wanted to buy out someday so I could take back my namesake of a company from.

Oh Lord. This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.

I went into hyper-distress.

Lana would literally murder me if she found out I had put my mouth on the very guy she was interested in. She would make my entire life a living hell. Heck, she already made my life a living hell, and she didn’t even have a valid reason.

If she had this reason, she’d—

I shuddered, too worried to even think about the possibilities.

She could never find out about this.

Ergo, he couldn’t find out who I was.

Ergo, I had to leave before he tempted my name from me.

Ergo—oh shit.

He lifted his painted eyebrows. “You know who I am.”

“Uh.” I gulped and hedged a step in reverse. I needed to get out of here. Like now. Like thirty seconds ago. “Yeah. You’re Nash,” I told him uneasily. “One of the CEOs of JFI, head of the Jackets department, son of entrepreneur Henry Nash.” After a nervous laugh, I waved a greeting even as I took another step backward. “Everyone knows who you are.” Clearing my throat, I started to turn away. “I should go.”

“Go? No, wait!”

He leapt forward and caught my wrist, stilling me. Panic filled my veins. But when I looked up at him from wide, worried eyes, he didn’t seem mad. He actually laughed out his confusion and shook his head.

“The dress didn’t scare you off, but my name is? Why? Who are you? I know we’ve never met before. I would definitely remember a face this amazing.”

He thought my face was amazing? Oh man. That was awesome.

I gulped and shook my head, my will against him faltering.

“No, you’re right,” I agreed. “We’ve never formally been introduced before.”

His brow crinkled. “Formally introduced? What does that mean? Should I know who you are? What’s your name?”

I shook my head, unable to tell him. “I… I…”

He rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of my hand. “Do you work for JFI?” he pressed. “That’s what’s freaking you out, isn’t it? You just found out you kissed the big boss man?”

“I…” My mind spun. Technically, it wouldn’t be a lie if I said no, I didn’t work for him… Yet. Lana had fired me earlier in the week, and I wouldn’t start working for Brick until Monday, so at the moment, no, I was not employed at JFI, and therefore he couldn’t be my boss’s boss. But it’d still feel like a lie to me, so I couldn’t say no, either. And yet, I couldn’t tell him yes. He couldn’t find out who I was. This couldn’t get back to Lana. Ever.

He’d been an amazing kisser, no doubt about that: the best mouth I’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. I’d enjoyed the past half hour with him more than I could remember enjoying much of anything, and we’d connected on an almost cosmic level. But no man was worth the wrath of Lana Judge on a bitter, jealous angry bender. I valued my life more than that. This had to stop here and now, before it went any further.

When it took me too long to answer, Nash’s face filled with concern. He stepped closer and cupped my cheek in his hand. “Talk to me,” he urged gently. “Something is freaking you the fuck out. I can see it all over your face. Help me understand what’s going on here.” He pressed his lips to my forehead and tucked my stray piece of hair behind my ear again. “I swear, I’ll help fix whatever it is.”

I groaned. “Dear God, you are so sweet.”

That was something I never would’ve guessed about him after seeing him only in corporate mode, decked out to the nines in a suit and tie, his jaw always so firm and unforgiving, the air of authority and disdain cloaking him like armor.

It was impossible to equate that man I’d seen from afar on so many different occasions to the one right in front of me, who’d dressed as a woman after losing a bet with his sister, who’d playfully teased me, who’d kissed me in the dark like I was precious to him. Who stood before me now and watched me earnestly as he begged to help me with my problems.

Unable to stop myself, I leaned against this chest and pressed my cheek to his heartbeat, just over his fake boobs. The solid, comforting thud against my ear consoled me even as it made the entire situation hurt more.

He hugged me to him, trying to protect me from an inevitable fate he had no clue was approaching. “Tell me what’s going on inside this head of yours, Yellow.”

Oh, damn. He’d given me a nickname. I loved it.

I smiled wistfully and closed my eyes. “I wish I could.”

“But you can.” The warmth of his breath tempted my ear. I clutched a fistful of the bell sleeve of his dress. He ran the backs of his knuckles along my jaw. “Let’s start with your name. Simple and easy as that. So, what’s your name, beautiful girl?”

Except it wasn’t simple or easy at all. Half an hour ago, he hadn’t even believed the daughter of Marcella and Arthur Judge existed. What would he do if he learned he’d just made out with her? What would he think of my ties to Lana, the bane of his existence? Would he believe that my stumbling across him in the courtyard was pure coincidence? Or would he think it orchestrated, that I’d carefully planned to trick and seduce him for some nefarious reason?

I did want my company back. When he learned that, why wouldn’t he believe our chance encounter had been one big scheme to pull the rug out from under him in order to somehow regain JFI?

I couldn’t handle him thinking that way about me. I had to stop this here and now before he learned the truth.

So, no more kissing the boss.

Pulling away, I shook my head sadly. “I should go. This was nice, but we should never see each other again. I need… I need to find Brick.”

“No.” The word was soft and beseeching. And when he tightened his grip on my hand, I didn’t put much of a fight into pulling away. “No, no, no. Don’t leave me like this. Please.”

“Nash,” I cried softly, pleading in my own way for him to give it up. “I’m sorry, but I can’t—”

“It’s Ezra,” he corrected with a coaxing smile as he tugged me closer. He tweaked my nose playfully. “Why do you keep calling me Nash?”

“Because that’s your…” My words fell quiet as I blinked at him slowly. “Wait, isn’t that what you go by? What everyone calls you?” Confusion swirled through me. I’d only ever heard him referred to as Nash. I’d just assumed—

“No.” He let out an amused laugh. “No one calls me that.” Then his eyes darkened. “Except…”

I think he realized at the same moment I did where I’d so often heard him referred to as simply Nash. And now that I thought back to it, my stepmother—and sometimes Brick—were the only people I’d really ever heard talk about him.

Oh, shit.

His gaze collided with mine, mine full of guilt and rue, his shocked suspicion.

He let go of me as if I were suddenly contaminated, then he eased a leery step back.

“You know Lana.” The words were thick with accusation, and his body language was a sudden barrier, warding me away. “Of course you know her. You came here tonight with her son. You gave her other son a cookie.”

I started to shake my head, denying it, except he could see the truth all over my face.

“You’re close,” he hissed. “Dear God. Are you one of her spies?”

“What? No!” What a horrible assumption. I would never spy for Lana. But then I realized, maybe I didn’t want him knowing I even knew about her spies. It could be bad news if he had any idea I was in so deep with her family and the company.

So I quickly added, “We are not close.” Except he’d probably interpret me being her stepdaughter as mighty close. “I mean, we’re not friendly or anything.”

“Yet you’re extremely friendly with both her sons.”

“Yeah.” I snorted. “And neither Brick nor Hayden are exactly fond of her either. Heck, Brick told me just this evening that they wanted in on your half of the company when you showed up because they didn’t want to deal with her.”

“That.” He nodded, narrowing his eyes. “Or they wanted in on my half of the company so they could spy for her as well.”

I laughed. I actually had to laugh at such a ridiculous notion. “Wow. You’re paranoid.”

He didn’t join the amusement, or even smile back. His expression was hard, set in stone, and a lot like the Nash I knew him to be.

“When it comes to Lana Judge, do you blame me?”

Good point.

Swallowing, I lowered my face as I shook my head. “No,” I admitted just as softly. “When it comes to Lana, I become suspicious too. Just… Don’t ever accuse me of being in league with her. If I could have my way, I’d never have anything to do with that witch ever again for the rest of my life.”

Nash—er, Ezra—lifted his eyebrows at my venomous tone before he gave a respectful nod. “Fair enough,” he answered. “I’d avoid her too, if I could. But none of this answers the biggest question I have. Which is…” Stepping closer, he lowered his voice and hissed, “Who the fuck are you?”