He Cheated So I Did Too With My Obsessive Boss

The moon shone brighter than usual that evening, casting a soft, silvery glow over our quiet suburban neighborhood. I was thrilled because my husband, Richard, was finally coming home after a grueling two-week business trip. To surprise him, I slipped into a fancy, sexy red nightgown that hugged my curves perfectly, the silky fabric whispering against my skin as I moved. My heart raced with anticipation as I heard his car pull into the driveway.

"He's here," I whispered to myself, a smile spreading across my face. I hurried to the door, my bare feet padding softly on the cool hardwood floor. He opened the door, flicked on the lights, and his eyes widened when he saw me.

"Wow, baby, you look incredible," he said, his voice laced with a hint of surprise.

"Do you like it?" I teased, wrapping my arms around him and running my fingers through his tousled hair.

"Of course I do," he replied, kissing me gently as he dropped his suitcase with a thud on the floor.

Slowly, I began unbuttoning his shirt, my hands exploring the familiar contours of his chest. "Let's do it right here, in the living room," I whispered seductively in his ear, wrapping his hand around my waist. He kissed me deeply for a moment, his lips warm and inviting.

Babe please." His hands caught my wrists-gently, but firmly pulling back slightly. "I just got back, and I'm exhausted. Can we do this later?" He pleaded, his eyes heavy with fatigue.

The word landed like a slap.

I searched his face for the man who used to lift me onto the kitchen counter without warning, who used to growl my name like a prayer. He wasn't there.

Before I could respond, he picked up his suitcase and headed straight to the bathroom, leaving me standing there alone in the dimly lit room.

This had been my reality for the past three years-no matter how hard I tried, Richard always found an excuse to turn me away. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sank onto the couch. Ever since the tragic loss of our three-month-old baby, things had changed between us. Even though he insisted it wasn't my fault, I knew deep down he blamed me. I pulled my knees to my chest, burying my face in them as hot tears streamed down my cheeks, the silence of the house amplifying my loneliness.

The next day, I was at the office where I worked as an executive assistant, meticulously arranging some documents on my cluttered desk, when one of my colleagues burst into my office.

"Hey, Payton, he's here!" Brooke exclaimed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushed to my desk, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Who?" I asked, curiosity piqued despite my lingering melancholy from the night before.

"Our new CEO, of course-Teddy Murphy. Don't tell me you forgot!"

"Hmm, not really," I replied absently. That was the least of my concerns right now.

"He's so hot and sexy, like the most handsome man on earth," she gushed, fanning herself dramatically.

"Brooke, please stop. You forget I'm married," I said, trying to sound stern but failing to hide a small smile.

"Oh, come on, Payton," she said, perching on the edge of my desk and leaning in closer. "It's not a crime to admire God's creation. Anyways, how are you coping at home?"

"Everything is fine, Brooke, and thanks for asking," I lied smoothly, standing up with a stack of documents in hand. "Now, I have to go give our new CEO his schedule for the day."

"Fine, but tell me all you noticed about him when you get back," she said with a wink. I smiled weakly and left the room.

At his office door, I paused to smooth down my pencil skirt and adjust my blouse, wanting to look professional. I knocked softly.

"Yes, come in," he called out in a deep, resonant voice that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Looking up, I was struck by how stunning he was-handsome as hell, with chiseled features, dark hair neatly styled, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through me as I approached his desk.

"Good morning, sir," I said, standing confidently in front of him.

"Good morning...?" He trailed off, prompting me with a raised eyebrow.

"Payton, sir," I managed, momentarily lost in how handsome and commanding he appeared, his broad shoulders filling out his tailored suit perfectly.

"Payton, I guess you're my assistant," he said with a warm smile that revealed perfect white teeth.

"Yes, sir. Here are some documents outlining your schedule for the week," I said, handing them over. As he took them, his fingers brushed against mine, sending a spark of electricity through me. He held my gaze with those intense blue eyes, and suddenly, I felt a rush of heat building inside, something I hadn't experienced in years.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his tone genuinely concerned, a slight furrow forming on his brow.

"Yes, of course, sir," I replied quickly, trying to steady my breathing.

"Call me Teddy, please. I'm not that old," he said, chuckling lightly. It felt almost like he was flirting, the way his eyes lingered on me.

"Uh... okay."

"Anything else?"

"No, I should go now," I said, turning to leave. I could feel his eyes tracing my figure as I walked out. Once outside, I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and clutching my chest. "Payton, what is wrong with you? You're married," I muttered, pressing my hand to my forehead.

Walking back to my office, Brooke rushed up to me again.

"He is hot, right? See, I told you!"

"Brooke, go gossip with someone else,"

I said, closing my office door behind me.

Back in my office I collapsed into my chair. My skin still buzzed where his fingers had touched mine. I closed my eyes and-God help me-I saw him again: those eyes stripping me bare, that voice saying my name like a promise instead of a question.

Three years without being touched.

Three years of being looked through.

And now this man-stranger, boss, temptation-had looked at me like I was starving and he knew exactly what I was hungry for.

I pressed my thighs together, ashamed of the sudden, sharp ache blooming low in my belly.

"Get yourself together," I whispered, shaking my head to dispel the forbidden thoughts of intimacy that had begun to creep in.

Every day became a quiet war of glances.

In the hallway outside the boardroom, our eyes would catch and hold a second too long.

In the coffee shop line, his shoulder would brush mine as he reached for cream, and the contact lingered like a brand.

In his office, when I delivered reports, he'd lean back in his chair, fingers steepled, watching me with that steady blue intensity until I felt naked under fluorescent lights.

In my own office, I'd look up from my screen and find him standing in the doorway-silent, unannounced-before he'd simply nod once and disappear.

The worst was the boardroom meeting that Thursday.

Everyone was filing out, voices overlapping in post-meeting chatter. I stayed behind to gather my notes. Teddy walked past last. As he did, his hand found my shoulder-firm, deliberate-then slid slowly down my arm until his fingers closed over mine on the table. He lifted the pen I was still holding, his thumb grazing the inside of my wrist.

"Can I borrow this?" he murmured, voice so low it vibrated against my ear.

I couldn't speak. I could only nod, pulse roaring in my throat, as he took the pen and walked away without looking back.

This is bad, I told myself, the words tasting like ash.

This is very, very bad.

That Saturday evening I escaped to my favorite dimly lit bar, the one with the low jazz and amber lighting that made everything feel like a secret. I ordered my usual-a dirty martini, extra olives-and then another. And another. Richard had left again that morning for another "critical" trip. No goodbye kiss. No promise of when he'd be back. Just the sound of the front door closing behind him like a full stop.

By the fourth cocktail, the room tilted softly. My anger had curdled into something sharper-grief, maybe, or self-loathing. I replayed our last fight in vicious loops.

I'd cornered him in the bedroom, voice cracking.

"Tell me what I've done. Tell me why you treat me like I disgust you."

He'd caught my wrists when I shoved at his chest, not hard, just desperate.

"Get a grip, Payton," he'd said quietly, eyes flat. "I'll be back in a week. We'll talk then."

Then he walked out

Now the alcohol burned behind my eyes. I pushed off the stool, unsteady, determined to get home before I embarrassed myself further.

The floor rushed up.

Strong arms caught me before I hit the tiles.

That scent-clean cedar, expensive aftershave, something darkly masculine-hit me like memory.

I looked up through the haze.

Teddy.

"Oh great," I slurred, laughing once, bitterly. "Now I'm hallucinating."

My hand lifted on its own, fingertip tracing the sharp line of his jaw, then brushing across his lips.

"Oh, Teddy..."

He caught my finger gently between his teeth-a small, teasing bite-then released it.

"Are you drunk?" Concern edged his voice, but his eyes were dark, pupils blown.

Instead of answering, I surged up and kissed him.

It was reckless, hungry, three years of pent-up want poured into one collision. His mouth opened under mine instantly, hot and sure. His hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him until there was no space left for guilt. I moaned into the kiss as his tongue slid against mine-slow, claiming-and my fingers curled into his shirt like I'd drown if I let go.

We broke apart gasping, foreheads pressed together, his breath ragged against my swollen lips.

"Wow," he whispered, the word rough.

My head was spinning, but clarity was creeping back in cruel waves.

"What... what is happening right now?"

He tilted my chin up with two fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"I must be very drunk. I'm so sorry." I tried to step back.

His hand closed around my wrist-not tight, just enough to stop me.

"Where are you going?"

I stared at him, chest heaving.

"What's wrong? Teddy, I'm married. This never happened. I have to go."

"At least let me take you home."

I closed my eyes, took a shaky breath.

"You don't have to. I'm... I'm sober enough now. I'll take a taxi."

I pulled free and walked away on trembling legs, feeling his stare burn into my back the entire way to the door.

Monday morning the elevator bank was crowded, air thick with coffee breath and Monday dread.My phone buzzed.

Richard: Baby! Sorry for not messaging sooner. Been slammed. Will call later. Love you.

I stared at the screen until it blurred, then shoved the phone into my bag without replying.

A warm presence appeared at my side.

Teddy.

I kept my eyes on the floor numbers, cheeks burning.

"Good morning, sir," I mumbled.

The doors opened. People shuffled out. We stepped in. The doors closed-and suddenly it was just us.

He moved in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Don't even think of avoiding me," he said quietly.

His hand rose, fingertips stroking slowly through the blunt ends of my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear.

"Sir, please," I whispered, the plea thin and unconvincing.

"I told you," he said, voice dropping lower, "call me Teddy."

Those eyes-storm-dark now, unblinking-held mine hostage.

The elevator dinged. Doors slid open.

He stepped back smoothly, as though nothing had happened.

"Come to my office," he said loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, already walking away. "I need to talk to you."

I stood rooted in the hallway, heart slamming against my ribs.

I glanced around-no one was watching. Phones, conversations, rushing footsteps. Business as usual.

I swallowed hard.

Guilt and want twisted together in my stomach, sharp and sickening.

I should turn around. Go back to my desk. Pretend the weekend never happened.

Instead my feet moved.

One step.

Then another.

By the time I reached his door, my pulse was deafening. Pleasure-hot, traitorous-curled low in my belly, warring with the shame that tasted like bile.

I lifted my hand to knock.

Even if I denied myself, every trembling inch of me was already screaming for him.

I stood outside his door for what felt like an eternity, heart slamming against my ribs so hard I was sure the entire floor could hear it. One deep, shaky breath. Then another. My fingers curled into a fist, nails biting into my palm, before I finally raised my hand and knocked-three soft, uncertain taps.

The door opened almost instantly.

Teddy didn't speak. He simply reached out, fingers closing around my wrist like a manacle made of heat, and pulled me inside with one swift, possessive tug. The door clicked shut behind us before I could even draw a full breath. My back hit the wall with a soft thud, and suddenly he was everywhere-his body pinning mine, one thigh sliding between my legs, hands braced on either side of my head.

"I want you," he growled against my ear, voice rough and low. His tongue traced the sensitive shell, then dipped lower to flick the spot just behind my lobe-my secret weakness, the one that always turned my knees to liquid.

A broken sound escaped me. My hands flew to his biceps, gripping hard to keep from collapsing. "Teddy..."

He lifted his head just enough to look at me-those blue eyes dark with raw hunger. I felt the thick, insistent press of his arousal against my thigh, hot and unyielding through our clothes. My breath hitched. God, someone drag me out of here before I beg.

His hand moved between us, cupping one breast through my blouse, thumb circling the already-hard nipple until I arched involuntarily. "I can't take it anymore, Payton," he rasped, voice fraying at the edges. "I need you beneath me. I need to feel my cock buried deep inside you-slow at first, then hard. So hard you forget every other name but mine."

" Please stop I..I can't do this." I whispered but didn't push him away.

He leaned in and licked the seam of my parted lips, tasting me, teasing, before claiming my mouth in a kiss that felt like possession. Savage. Desperate. His free hand slid to my thigh, hooking under my knee and lifting one of my leg to wrap around his hip. My skirt rode up as his palm glided higher, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my ass with bruising force.

"Fuck," he groaned into my mouth, the word vibrating against my tongue.

I was lost. Every starved nerve in my body screamed for more. Three years of denial had left me hollow, aching, and now every cell was alight with the promise of being filled, stretched, taken. I wanted it rough. I wanted the edge of pain that would finally drown out the emptiness. I wanted him to fuck me until I couldn't remember why I'd ever tried to resist.

Please," he whispered against the frantic pulse at my neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire down to my collarbone. "Let me fuck you, Payton. Please."

The words stopped me cold.

Wait-what am I doing?

Slowly, I dropped my leg and pushed him away, my hands shaking.

"Please... I can't do this," I said,

breathless. "I'm married."

He was breathing just as hard.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

But he didn't listen. He pressed me back against the wall, tried to kiss me again. I turned my face away-

-and then the office phone rang, shattering the moment.

We paused, frozen, as his office phone erupted into relentless ringing. Neither of us moved. I blinked a few times, then gently pressed my palm against his chest, easing him back.

"You should get that," I said quietly.

His expression darkened in an instant-anger flashing through those fearless eyes.

"Hell, who could that be?" he muttered.

He finally released me and stepped away, but not before helping smooth my skirt back into place with careful, almost reluctant hands.

"I should go," I said, quickly adjusting my blouse and hair. I slipped out of his office before either of us could say anything more.

I nearly collided with Brooke in the hallway.

My heart lurched.

"Hey, Payton," she said brightly. "I swung by your office earlier, but you weren't there. Looks like you were just leaving our resident sexy boss's domain."

I forced a casual smile. "Of course. I'm his assistant, remember?"

"That's just a fancy excuse to see him every day," she teased, her eyes narrowing with playful suspicion.

"brooke stop. Please." I sighed. "I'm married. I love my husband. I'm not gossiping about this kind of thing."

She raised both hands in mock surrender.

I brushed past her. "I have to get back to work. You should too."

Back at my desk, I couldn't focus on anything. My mind replayed the heat of Teddy's mouth on mine, the way his hands had gripped me, the ache still pulsing between my thighs. I was restless, needy, and wet. I paced my small office until I finally dropped into my chair.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Richard. I needed to hear his voice-needed the reminder that I was married.

"Hello, babe," I said when he picked up.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Let's make up already," he replied, sounding genuinely remorseful.

"Richard, I miss you so much," I said, my voice cracking slightly. "When are you coming back? This is driving me crazy. I want to have sex with you. Is that really too much to ask from my husband?"

He went quiet for a long moment. "I understand. I'll make it up to you."

"When?" I pressed.

"When I get back. I have to go now. I love you." The line went dead.

Frustration crashed over me like a wave. Tears stung my eyes. Deep down, I already knew he'd have another excuse when he finally returned. He always did.

Still drowning in that familiar ache and disappointment, my office phone rang . I cleared my throat and answered.

"Hello, Payton speaking."

"The meeting with E&Y has been moved to Hawaii," Teddy's voice filled the line-cool, professional, all business. "We leave Friday."

"But sir-"

"No buts. It's strictly business. Start making the preparations." He hung up without waiting for a reply.

I exhaled slowly. His tone had been clipped, detached-like he'd already rebuilt the wall between us. Maybe pushing him away earlier had worked. Maybe he'd stop looking at me like that. Maybe he'd even start ignoring me completely.

It should feel like a relief. He was my boss, after all.

I stared at the phone for a long moment, then forced myself to open my calendar.

This was for the best.

I repeated the words in my head, trying to convince myself I didn't secretly wish he still wanted me.

Then suddenly.

Throughout the week, things between me and Teddy stayed strictly professional. No lingering glances, no stolen moments-just cold, efficient business. He'd changed overnight, and it felt like a slow-motion nightmare. I couldn't figure out what was going through his head or why he'd suddenly decided to pretend I didn't exist. Part of me told myself it was for the best. I almost believed it.

Thursday evening, I was at home folding laundry when I tried calling Richard. The call wouldn't connect, so I left a quick voicemail: "Hey, I'm heading to Hawaii tomorrow for a business meeting with my boss. Call me when you receive this."

The next morning at eight sharp, I climbed into a cab and headed to the airport. Teddy was already there, waiting in the terminal hallway-tall, imposing, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, wheeling a sleek suitcase, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. He watched me approach without a word.

When I reached him, he gave a curt nod.

"Let's go."

He turned and walked. I followed.

The flight from New York was long. By the time we landed in Hawaii that evening, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. We checked into our various rooms, I immediately dropped my bag, and headed straight for the bathroom. The deep, clean tub called to me. I sank into steaming water, letting the heat loosen the knots in my shoulders, trying not to think about what came next.

Later, wrapped in the hotel's soft white robe, I sat on the edge of the bed scrolling through my phone. No messages from Richard. Nothing.

A knock startled me.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Teddy."

I stood quickly, happily but trying my best to look professional before opening the door.

God, he looked good. Fresh from his own shower, hair still slightly damp, wearing a crisp white button-down and tailored black trousers. His gaze locked on me, steady and unreadable.

"May I come in?"

"Of course." I stepped aside, gesturing him into the room.

I turned to face him. "So... what's up?" My voice held a flicker of excitement I couldn't quite hide.

"The meeting starts tonight," he said. He stepped closer, voice lowering. "I'd like you to dress... a little sexy this evening." His eyes traced me slowly. "Can I count on you?"

"Certainly." The word came out softer than I intended.

He reached out suddenly, fingers curling gently around the back of my neck, thumb brushing slow circles against my skin. Heat flared through me.

"What did I tell you about calling me 'sir'?"

"I thought we were keeping things professional these days," I murmured.

Something flickered in his expression-memory, maybe regret. He released me and stepped back.

"Call me when you're ready. I'll be waiting in the lobby." At the door he paused, glancing back. "Please hurry."

I smiled to myself after he left. He was still affected. Good.

I chose the red gown-the long, clinging one that left most of my back bare. When I stepped into the lobby, Teddy's eyes darkened with appreciation.

"You look stunning," he said quietly, offering his arm.

"Thank you." I slipped my hand through it.

"Shall we?"

We walked side by side into the warm Hawaiian night.

At the upscale restaurant, we were deep in conversation with the client when I glanced through the wide glass window-and froze.

A man who looked exactly like Richard was walking past, arm around a young woman. They were laughing, heads close. My stomach dropped.

It couldn't be him. Richard was supposed to be in Seattle on business. It had to be a mistake.

But curiosity-and dread-pulled me to my feet.

"Excuse me," I said abruptly.

Teddy's brow furrowed. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back."

I slipped outside and followed them at a distance until they disappeared into a nearby resort. Hidden behind a palm, I watched as Richard kissed her-deep, familiar, laughing against her mouth. They hugged like lovers who'd known each other forever.

My chest cracked open. Richard, my steady, dependable husband, a cheater? I couldn't believe it. No wonder he hadn't touched me in years. He'd been getting his pleasure somewhere else. What had I done that was so unforgivable? One terrible mistake-one I hadn't even chosen-and this was the punishment?

I took a step forward, ready to storm over and demand answers.

A firm hand closed around my arm.

"Don't," Teddy said quietly. "Don't make a scene."

I whirled on him. "That's my husband. He's supposed to be in Seattle. Instead he is here with another woman."

"I know." His voice was gentle, almost tender. "But you're shaking. You're not thinking straight. Confront him later-when the anger isn't burning through you."

Tears blurred my vision. I looked back at Richard one last time, then turned into Teddy's chest and clung to him.

"Please," I whispered, voice breaking. "Take me back to the hotel."

He held me for a long moment, steady and warm.

I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.

"And fuck me, Teddy."