One Night with Her Brooding Boss: Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby / Her Impossible Boss / The Secretary’s Bossman Bargain

She had always thought it would be embarrassing to manage the mechanics of love-making but nothing was awkward with Quinn. He was so open about everything it made her feel the same way. And this opportunity to explore him, to feel him beneath her hands, warm, hard, veined and smooth, thick and pulsating.

Closing her eyes, she relished the simple pleasure of touch, but then Quinn brought her down to the bed and she was soon distracted. Their kisses grew in heat until they were tumbling over each other as if no touch or kiss, no tangling of limbs or wild, raw, heated embrace, could ever be enough for them. Quinn’s body was a passport to pleasure and hers was his to use as he pleased.

But right at the moment, when she should have been at her most receptive, the doubts swept back in. Sensing the change in her, Quinn stilled immediately.

She moved away.

‘Are you still afraid I might hurt you? ‘ Bringing her back into his arms, Quinn dropped kisses on her brow, on her eyes and on her lips.

‘I’m more frightened of disappointing you.’

Quinn smiled his reassurance against her mouth. ‘You could never disappoint me. But if you don’t want this…’

‘I definitely want it.’

‘And I definitely want it. So it seems to me we’re riding the same wave here.’

Quinn’s lips pressed down attractively as he cupped her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumb pads. From there his hands continued to soothe as his kisses migrated down her neck to her breasts, and from there to her belly and the inside of her thighs. He moved lower, kissing her ankles as he massaged her feet until she thought she would faint with pleasure, before moving on to caress her calves and lick the back of her knees—a place she could never have imagined held such potential for sensation. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she ordered him huskily, linking her hands behind her head as he rested her legs on his shoulders. ‘Do I please you?’

‘What do you think?’ Quinn murmured.

She sighed and pressed against him, pressed against his mouth. She didn’t want to hold anything back. She wanted to experience everything Quinn wanted to give her to the full. And after he’d brought her to the edge again he straightened up to brush himself against her. He teased her with the delicious foretaste of the pleasure to come until she cried out in complaint. His answer to this was to tease her again, drawing himself more slowly this time over each moist and swollen part of her, until she was relaxed enough for him to stretch her with just the tip.

The sensation was so extreme, so good, that when Quinn made to withdraw this time she thrust her hips towards him, claiming him.

The breath shot out of Magenta’s lungs in a rush. She wasn’t even sure if she could take all of him; sensing her shock, Quinn worked some magic with his fingers and, with that and his kisses to distract her, he took control. It was only moments until he inhabited her completely.

Quinn moved and she moved with him, marvelling at the lack of pain, the lack of fear, even though he was stretching her beyond anything she would have imagined possible. He filled her in the most pleasing way, massaging her most effectively, and it wasn’t long before she was working frantically with him towards the inevitable conclusion. Digging her fingers into his buttocks, she pressed her hips down until she was certain that no part of them was left unconnected, and moments later the first spasm hit her. Crying Quinn’s name, she abandoned herself to pleasure, bucking uncontrollably yet registering somewhere in the depths of her mind that her first orgasm with Quinn had just been utterly eclipsed.

It took ages for her to recover and ages for the delicious little aftershocks of extreme pleasure to subside. Quinn rested deep inside her, waiting until he judged her sufficiently recovered, and then he began to move. Rolling his hips slowly from side to side, he brought the hunger back again and the next climax hit her before she even knew it was building. Screaming out his name, she thrust her hips convulsively while Quinn held her firmly in place, making sure she enjoyed every moment of it.

‘You’re spoiling me,’ she managed groggily as he moved to take her again.

‘We’re only getting started,’ Quinn assured her. ‘I’m taking the edge off your hunger.’

‘Taking the edge off! ‘ Magenta laughed, but Quinn confirmed his intentions, dropping kisses on her swollen lips. ‘And when I’ve done that,’ he said, ‘just as I promised I would, I’m going to make love to you.’

‘Haven’t we been doing that? ‘

Quinn’s laugh was low and sexy. ‘Come on, Magenta,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘We both know that neither of us is cut out for a diet of canapés.’

As Quinn was already moving deep inside her she had no intention of arguing with that. Holding her secure in his arms, Quinn was rocking her. ‘Harder,’ she begged him greedily. ‘Take me faster, Quinn.’ Then speech was no longer possible. ‘Hold me!’ she cried out in the last few ecstatic moments.

Cupping her buttocks firmly, Quinn kept her in position as she thrust her fists against his chest. She needed something to brace herself against as her mind was ripped from her body and flung into a world of unimaginable colour and sensation. She explored it to the full, knowing that when she finally quietened Quinn would be waiting to soothe her with reassurances that she was safe.

This was definitely the way forward, Magenta decided, practically purring with contentment as she woke slowly the following morning, thankfully still in the sixties, in Quinn’s huge bed. They had made love through the night and only dawn had interrupted them. At the first faint glimmer of light, Quinn had sprung up and left her side.

Her heart filled when he returned from taking a shower. It was no use pretending this was anything casual. She couldn’t get enough of him—and no wonder. With a towel slung around his hips like a loin cloth, Quinn was quite a sight to wake up to in the morning. He was the full package, she reflected contentedly, easing her sated limbs. Quinn had the body of a gladiator and a mind like a steel trap. He was funny and tender, and had an appetite for sex that knew no bounds. He was the dream lover.

She could so easily make a habit of this, Magenta mused as he strolled towards the bed, drying his wayward hair on a towel.

‘It’s time to get up.’

‘Already? ‘ she complained.

‘Work?’ Quinn reminded her.

‘Work?’ she echoed without any of her usual enthusiasm. ‘Can’t we stay here a little longer?’ For the first time in her life, there was something a lot more important than work—such as being with Quinn. Gazing up into his face, she only found it disappointingly resolute.

‘Work,’ he confirmed, turning on his heels. ‘Take a shower; there’s plenty of hot water.’

Take a shower—alone? Mageneta frowned, wishing she hadn’t heard the distant note in Quinn’s voice. After last night she had expected things to be very different between them.

She waited until she was sure he was busy dressing before creeping out of bed. Grabbing her discarded clothes, she held them in front of her. She felt self-conscious suddenly. Quinn made her feel as if she had overstayed her welcome—a sense that only grew when he asked if she wanted a lift to the office.

If? He hadn’t even turned to look at her yet.

‘I don’t want to be late,’ he explained. Stepping inside his open-plan dressing room, he started the process of selecting a tie. ‘I’ve got a lot on this morning.’

She mustn’t think the worst of him. ‘You’ve called a meeting of the team?’ she guessed hopefully.

‘Yes, I have,’ he confirmed.

If this was an opportunity to get those girls out of the typing pool, she’d forgive him anything. ‘Great. I’ll be as quick as I can,’ she promised, springing out of bed.

She had to be positive about this, Magenta told herself firmly as she stepped into a proper shower beneath steaming spray. She might have known that even in the sixties Quinn would enjoy state-of-the-art plumbing. She had to put her personal feelings to one side and recognise the meeting Quinn had called for the victory it was. And what had she imagined—that Quinn intended to progress their relationship? It was time to get real, time to come to grips with the era in which she found herself, however much that hurt.

But as they drove to the office, and she stared out of Quinn’s car window at the sixties cityscape of concrete and high-rise grey boxes, there was nothing she wanted more than a return to real time, real relationships, and an end to this confusing dream if that was what it was. She had expected to be intrigued by everything she saw. She had also expected to be set free to enjoy a whole new set of rules. What she had not expected was those rules leading her to feel so deeply about Quinn, or to find that sexual freedom came with quite such a heavy price tag.

Quinn remained aloof and unspeaking throughout the journey, while Magenta tried to persuade herself that he was mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. Whatever had happened between them, she was determined to show a bright face at the office. There was enough uncertainty there without her adding to it, and the most important thing she had to do today was to tell the girls the good news.

Magenta felt even more positive when she entered the office to discover that the partition around the typing pool had been removed; Quinn had kept his word. Even if the girls were still sitting in rows typing, at least they could see what was going on around them now. And, most importantly, they felt good about the changes, judging by the smiling faces that greeted her.

Her feelings of elation grew when Quinn invited her and the girls to join his team in the boardroom that morning. She had suspected he might, and had briefed the girls beforehand, urging them to speak out and ignore any slights the men might throw their way. ‘We have to be professional, even if they aren’t,’ she’d warned. ‘If we want Quinn to involve us in the campaign, it’s crucial that we keep emotion out of it. We have nothing to prove in there other than the fact that our ideas are better than theirs.’

‘You bet they are,’ Nancy had agreed. ‘We’re behind you all the way, Magenta.’

One of the girls still made coffee for everyone, Magenta noticed. But she told herself she mustn’t be greedy. Quinn was right in that lasting change took time to implement. One small step at a time would suit her, so long as that step was in the right direction.

She led the way into the boardroom and acknowledged Quinn as if they hadn’t spent the night in each other’s arms.

‘Magenta,’ he greeted her in much the same way. ‘Would you and your team like to sit down? ‘

‘Thank you.’

Ever the gentleman, Quinn remained standing until he and his team had seen all the women comfortably settled around the table. Quinn had clearly briefed his team in advance, as Magenta had, and she took this as a good sign. Quinn had also recognised that nothing could be achieved in an atmosphere of taunts and sneering remarks.

‘Would you care to begin?’ he said. His eyes reflected nothing more than professional interest.