Boss's Demands: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

By Amber Young

Mathilda

I’m strong, feisty and independent. Who needs a man when you have yourself?

Even if you have a three hundred thousand dollar debt and the clock is ticking. I can handle it, right?

My boss Victor Teele is an older man and a billionaire. All he wants is to get me into his corner.

Nope, not this girl. At least I try hard to not be that girl. Something about him makes me tremble with warm vibes and dirty feelings.

Too bad my due date is moved up to pay my loan back—in full!

Now I’m stuck in a rock and a hard place.

Until he comes and breaks all my rules.

And melts the ice border around my heart.

Victor

Women lie. They all do.

I’ve built a shield around my emotions, giving them strict limits.

Then she walks into my office. Mathilda Bell.

The beast in me wakes up and refuses to sleep until I have her.

She can play this game of not wanting me all she wants.

But will a taste of her prove to destroy me?

Boss’s Demands is a novella length romance. And it will burn your screens, so be careful reading it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Jul 24, 2018

Book preview

Story

Boss's Demands

Copyright © 2018 by Amber Young

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Everyone in this story is 18 or older.

I'm not really afraid that I've broken the contract yet. But if I don't call him, that eight million will go poof and so will I. And not in a good way.

Okay, just call and apologize, that's all you have to do, I say to myself.

And whatever you do, don't get too excited over him. He's a man! You're not that dependent on him no matter what some contract says. You're the one doing business with him. You have just as equal control.

I scroll through the contacts to see his name there. Naturally he doesn't skip any details. I bet this thing is trackable too. Images of him coming to my door and making his way inside to take me flashes through my head. Urgh. I'm getting wet again and he'd love to know that. The way he's making me melt between my legs.

Okay, Mathilda, just calm down and call the man.

I press the dial button and hear it ring. It rings only once and he picks up. Sorry, I say, before anything else is spoken. I was just nervous. I've never--

It's okay, Mathilda. I'm glad you called. Are you feeling all right? he asks. His voice is sex to the ears.

Yeah, I'm just... Don't say wet. Don't say horny. Are you still aroused? he asks.

I should be revolted that he's asking this. I'm not though. Instead, I leap to the conversation like water on a hot day.

Y-yes. Stop making me-- Are you wet?

Okay, time to curl up on the bed, this is going to get nasty. Just go with the flow. He's gonna be fessing up eight million dollar in two weeks. The least I can do is indulge in this.

Chapter One

Mathilda

The clock is ticking.

I need to hurry and come up with the money or else my butt is toast.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. But here I am, working a boring job as a secretary at an engineering firm. I don’t give the commands I take them. That’s not me. And for every second that goes by, I feel like screaming aloud, demanding that everyone listen to me, that I’m the boss now.

But no, this old man in the big pretty office behind me is the boss. Good thing he’s at least good looking. Sexy to be brutally honest. Which is the only reason I’m here. For now.

The clock ticks a slow solemn rhythm as I type away documents and file various things left on my desk. It’s against the rules to bring your phone to the desk with you, but anyone who knows me knows that rules don’t really mesh that well with me.

I glance behind me, making sure the coast is clear and like the twenty year old me I am, I did into my bra and take out my phone. I blaze through my social media profiles and see if there’s anything interesting going on in the news. The only thing that seems interesting is a woman who has been caught streaking nude in a fucking park. Wow, never been so desperate for drama in my life.

A notification pops up on the top bar of my phone, I click it and the heading reads empty. Something has got to be in there. So I do more clicking and open up my email app.

Look behind you, idiot, he could be hovering over you watching.

What’s this? I whisper, looking at the number figure in the email.

It reads, ‘$300,000 deadline has moved up, due date is in two weeks’.

I remember that number well… my gut drops. The clothes I’m wearing begin to feel tighter rather than sexy, and I need fresh air. I don’t have that now! What the hell is going on?

I read the name of the sender. Yup, Daniel Reed, the man I got the loan from. Shit, I know what they do to people that are behind on their payments. Coupling the fact that I’m a virgin female and sexy doesn’t sit well with me for once.

I shift in my seat, grabbing at the little scrapes of sanity I have left. Urgency compels my body to move, do something. Anything than just sitting here collecting a medium wage. Possible answers to solutions swirl in my head. Now I feel crazy trying to think my way out of this. Why are they moving up my payment in full date? I don’t have everything yet, they know that.

Stop, Mathilda, calm down! I tell myself aloud. Just breathe. It’s not like it’s due tomorrow. You have decent credit, just go to a bank.

Life is demanding too damn much from me. I should be the one doing that. The time on the clock that hangs across from me taunts me. There’s no time to mess around. Banks take days, if not, weeks to approve loans, and every minute down to the second counts. Panic tugs at my legs, telling them to get up and run against my will.

Damn it, I can’t do this. I need to take care of that debt now! Or else I never will! Ugh!

Straightening my short black pencil skirt, I get up and collect my things. There are a ton of women I could grab in the hallway to watch the desk for me, after all, the women here constantly wet their panties about our boss. Not that I blame them. I find myself doing that at times too.

The door opens behind me and Victor Teele’s face pops out, a frown drawing down his face. God, I love those thin lines men get around their mouth as they get older. His salt and pepper stubble compliments it as well as his slicked back dark brown hair.

Calm down, this is no time to be feeling horny over your boss!

Ms. Bell, in my office, he orders in a stern low voice. Oh damn, what did I do? There goes my clean record.

I followed him in his office as he took wide strides to sit down at his desk. His eyes meet mine and then scans my body like built in X-rays.

I’ve been trying to call you into my office for the last five minutes. When I looked at the camera, I saw you on your phone. Might I remind you of my strict no phone policy? The irritation is his voice makes me wet, a welcomed distraction from the panic and fear that had been riding my back a few seconds ago.

This virgin status of mine is starting to irritate me more than ever the last year. But I need to remember, I’m a girl who needs no man to look after. No one at all. I’m independent and it shows through my personality and my horny as hell virginity. Not even a dildo has been up there.

Sorry, Boss. I just had an emergency pop up on— He cuts me off, I don’t care. How rude. His sexy ass. Well I do—

And I don’t. Mind you, I sign your paycheck, Ms. Bell. He smirks at me. That devil.

Victor

Mathilda Bell, a pretty thorn in my side. If it weren’t for her vivacious and refreshing attitude, I’d have fired her a long time ago. She has a stylish flair a lot of the women who work here try to achieve and