My Boss Will Stop At Nothing To Have Me

Lillian's POV

The moment I stepped into the apartment, something felt off.

It wasn't the scattered shoes by the door or the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with vanilla perfume. It was the energy, thick, tense, almost like the walls were holding their breath.

I dropped my purse on the console table and took a cautious step forward. The TV was off. The kitchen light was dim. And then... I heard it.

A soft giggle.

A moan.

My stomach twisted as my pulse quickened.

I knew that laugh.

I knew that voice.

Without thinking, I pushed the bedroom door open.

And there they were.

Daniel. The man I had spent years loving, trusting, building a life with.

And Jasmine. My best friend.

Their bodies were tangled in my sheets, my bed. Our bed.

Jasmine let out a sharp gasp, yanking the covers up to her chest, as if modesty suddenly mattered. "Lillian..."

Daniel cursed under his breath, scrambling upright, his face drained of color.

For a moment, I couldn't speak. My throat burned, my vision blurred. A part of me wanted to scream, to throw something, to make them feel the way I felt, betrayed, broken, humiliated.

But instead, I laughed. A dry, hollow sound that didn't belong to me.

Daniel tried to step toward me. "Babe, I..."

"Don't." My voice was sharp enough to slice through steel.

Jasmine opened her mouth, probably to spill some pathetic excuse, but I cut her off with a look that made her shrink back.

I turned back to Daniel, my hands curling into fists. "Get your things and get the hell out of my house."

"Lillian, please.. "

"Now."

He hesitated. For a moment, I saw the wheels turning in his head, probably calculating whether he could manipulate me into forgiving him. Not this time.

I turned on my heels and walked out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The club was loud, the bass thrumming through my veins as I drowned my anger in shots of tequila. The betrayal, the pain, the years wasted on a man who didn't deserve me, it all simmered under my skin, waiting to explode.

I needed an escape.

And that's when I saw him.

Dark hair, sharp jawline, piercing eyes that locked onto mine like he could see every thought running through my head.

He smirked as if he knew exactly what I was looking for.

I leaned in. "Buy me a drink?"

He didn't hesitate. "Only if you let me take you home after."

I smirked. "Whiskey sour."

His lips quirked up at the corner. "Classy."

Our drinks arrived, and I took a slow sip, my eyes not leaving his.

"Rough night?" he asked.

I let out a breathy laugh. "Something like that."

He didn't pry. Just lifted his glass and clinked it against mine. "To forgetting for a few hours, then."

I held his gaze, feeling something stir inside me, a reckless need.

"To forgetting," I murmured, taking another sip.

He let the silence settle between us again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was charged.

After a moment, he leaned in just enough for me to catch the warm scent of cologne and something distinctly masculine.

"I have a place not far from here," he said, his voice smooth, deep, unrushed. "If you want to get out of here."

My pulse skipped.

He didn't assume. Didn't grab my wrist or act like I owed him anything.

He gave me a choice.

I searched his face, strong jaw, full lips, golden eyes that held not only curiosity, but a bit of arrogance. He was sure of himself.

And for the first time that night, I wanted something.

I set my glass down. "Let's go."

The ride to his place was quiet, but not awkward. He helped me with my coat, his fingers brushing my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, walking to the bar in the corner. "Another drink?"

I shook my head. "I think I've had enough."

He nodded, pouring himself a small glass of bourbon before turning to me. "You can say no at any time."

I blinked.

His expression remained calm, but there was an edge of intensity in his voice. "You don't owe me anything because you came here. If you want to just sit and talk, we can. If you want to leave, I'll call you a car."

My breath hitched.

Despite the arrogance I sensed, he was giving me control.

I swallowed, then stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt. "I don't want to leave."

His golden eyes darkened, his fingers grazing her hip, slow, deliberate. "Then tell me what you want."

My pulse pounded.

I wasn't used to being asked.

I wasn't used to choosing.

So, I met his gaze, steady and certain.

"I want you to kiss me."

He exhaled, then leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was demanding.

His hands never wandered without permission.

His lips coaxed.

And when his fingers trailed down my back, gripping my waist, he whispered, "Still okay?"

I let out a shaky breath. "Yes."

His grip tightened, and when he deepened the kiss, I melted into him.

Tonight, I won't think about Daniel.

Tonight, I won't feel broken.

Tonight, I choose to forget.

I let myself sink into his kiss, into the warmth of his hands as they settled on my waist, strong like he was holding something fragile.

Maybe I was.

Maybe I was more broken than I wanted to admit.

But right now, I didn't feel broken.

Right now, I felt wanted.

His lips traced along my jaw, down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. A shiver ran through me, and I arched into him, my fingers twisting into his shirt.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured, his voice deep and steady, vibrating against my throat.

I didn't want him to stop.

I wanted more.

"Don't stop," I whispered.

A soft groan rumbled from his chest as he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me toward the bedroom.

He laid me down gently, his golden eyes searching mine as he hovered above me.

"Still okay?"

The way he kept asking, the way he made sure I was with him every step of the way, it sent a different kind of heat through me, something deeper than just physical need.

I nodded, my hands reaching for him, pulling him closer. "I'm more than okay."

That was all he needed.

His mouth claimed mine again, slow, like he wanted to memorize every inch of me. His hands roamed my body with the same care, tracing my curves, mapping the places that made me shiver.

When he pulled my dress over my head, he took a moment to look at me, his gaze dark with appreciation.

"You're stunning," he murmured, running a thumb along my cheek.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding. No one had ever looked at me like that before, not like I was just something to conquer, but something to savor.

He kissed his way down my body, slow and teasing, taking his time as if he wasn't in a hurry to get anywhere, just lost in his little way of exploring me.

My breath hitched as his lips brushed my stomach, his hands parting my thighs. His touch was firm as if he knew this wasn't just about pleasure, it was about letting go, about reclaiming something I thought I had lost.

The moment his mouth found me, my back arched, a gasp slipping from my lips.

He didn't rush. He took his time, teasing, building the pleasure until I was trembling beneath him, my fingers gripping the sheets, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

"Let go," he murmured, his voice like velvet against my skin.

And I did.

Pleasure crashed over me, raw and overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel broken. I felt whole. I felt alive.

Before I could catch my breath, he was back above me, his lips claiming mine again, swallowing my moans as he positioned himself between my thighs.

His forehead rested against mine, his breath heavy, his eyes locked on me as he slowly pushed inside.

A deep, satisfied groan escaped him as he filled me, stretching me in the most delicious way.

I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he stilled, letting me adjust.

"You feel incredible," he murmured against my lips. "I could stay like this forever."

My heart clenched at his words, at the unexpected tenderness in them.

I didn't want tenderness.

I wanted to forget.

"Then don't be gentle," I whispered, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

Something dark flickered in his eyes, and the next thrust was deeper, harder, pulling a moan from my lips.

He moved with a steady rhythm at first, slow and deliberate, making me feel every inch of him. But as my body responded, as I wrapped my legs around his waist and begged for more, his restraint snapped.

The pace quickened, his thrusts more urgent, more desperate, as if he needed this just as much as I did.

The air was filled with heavy breathing, whispered curses, the sound of skin meeting skin.

Pleasure coiled tight inside me again, sharp and insistent, building until I was teetering on the edge.

"Let go, baby." he groaned, his lips at my ear, his voice thick with need. There was something about the way he said baby. I melted.

And just like before, I let go.

I shattered beneath him, pleasure rippling through me in waves so intense I could barely breathe.

He followed moments later, his body tensing before he collapsed against me, both of us spent, our hearts pounding in sync.

For the first time that night, I wasn't thinking about Daniel.

For the first time in years, I let myself feel something real.

And as I drifted into sleep, tangled in the sheets and his warmth, I realized one terrifying truth.

I might not even know his name...

But he had just ruined me for anyone else.

***

The next morning, reality hit me like a truck.

My head throbbed as I stumbled into the office, regretting every tequila shot I had downed the night before.

"Rough night?" Mia, my coworker, smirked as she passed me in the hallway.

I forced a tight-lipped smile. If only she knew.

I dropped into my chair, rubbing my temples. Maybe I could survive the day without collapsing. Maybe...

The sound of the elevator doors opening caught my attention, followed by the low murmur of voices as he walked in.

I glanced up... and my breath caught in my throat.

No.

No, no, no.

It couldn't be.

But it was.

The stranger from last night. The man whose name I hadn't even bothered to ask.

Standing there in a sharp suit, looking effortlessly powerful, completely in control.

And the entire office stood up as he walked past.

My boss.

The man I had just slept with was my boss.

Nathaniel's POV

I wasn't a man easily swayed by temptation.

Discipline had been ingrained in me since childhood, work hard, stay focused, and never let emotions cloud your judgment. That was how I built my success, how I earned my father's approval, and how I maintained control over every aspect of my life.

So why was it that, for the first time in years, I felt that control slipping?

Her name was Lillian Carter.

She worked in the finance department, buried in numbers and reports, efficient and professional. I had barely noticed her before, not because she wasn't noticeable, but because I never allowed myself to notice.

But today was different.

Today, I walked into the office, expecting just another ordinary morning of back-to-back meetings, mind-numbing negotiations, and my usual routine of drowning in work. Instead, my eyes found her.

She wasn't even doing anything spectacular, just standing near the break room, laughing at something a colleague had said, her eyes bright, her lips curved into a soft smile.

And just like that, I was staring.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

I dragged my gaze away, gripping the file in my hand a little too tightly.

"This is ridiculous, Nathaniel." I told myself.

I had no business noticing her, no business admiring the way her dark hair framed her face, or the way she absentmindedly tucked a strand behind her ear as she listened to her coworker.

I was engaged.

To Isabelle, the daughter of my father's closest friend, the woman who had been by my side for the past three years, the woman everyone expected me to marry.

And yet, in this moment, Isabelle might as well have been a world away.

Because for the first time in my life, I felt something I shouldn't.

Lust.

For someone who wasn't my fiancée.

I clenched my jaw and turned away, heading straight for my office without acknowledging anyone. The moment the door shut behind me, I exhaled, setting the file down with more force than necessary.

This wasn't happening. I wasn't going to let it happen.

Lillian Carter was just an employee. Just another face in a sea of workers who came in every morning and left every evening. She would remain exactly that.

Even if my hands still tingled from the moment I had brushed past her in the hallway yesterday.

Even if my mind replayed the way her lips had parted in surprise when I had accidentally locked eyes with her in the boardroom.

Even if I knew, deep down, that ignoring this wouldn't make it go away.

But I had no choice.

Because if there was one thing I knew with certainty, it was this. Nathaniel Montgomery didn't break rules.

And wanting Lillian Carter would be the biggest mistake of my life.

I needed to clear my head. Noticing her effortless grace was driving me insane.

This. Whatever it was, needed to stop. And I knew exactly how to make it stop.

I needed to remind myself of the woman I was supposed to be with. Isabelle. My fiancée. The woman I had spent three years building a future with. She was beautiful, sophisticated, and from a family that made perfect sense alongside mine. Everything about us made sense.

So tonight, I was going to remind myself why I chose her.

I left the office early, ignoring the questioning looks from my assistant, and drove straight to Isabelle's house. No calls, no texts. I wanted to surprise her.

I imagined how it would go. I'd walk in, she'd be delighted to see me, and we'd spend the evening together, reconnecting. I'd channel every bit of this restless energy into her, where it belonged. All pun intended.

By the time I reached her apartment, the tension in my body had turned into anticipation. I loosened my tie, raking a hand through my hair as I stepped out of the car.

The lights inside were on. She was home. I smiled to myself, stepping up to the front door. I didn't knock. I had a spare key, we were engaged, after all. I pushed the door open, ready to call her name.

But then I heard it.

A sound I knew too well.

A low moan. A breathy gasp. The unmistakable rhythm of bodies moving together. Skin slapping against skin.

The blood drained from my face.

For a split second, I froze. My mind tried to rationalize it, maybe I was imagining things, maybe it was the TV, maybe...

Another moan. A deep, masculine groan. Definitely not mine. Rage surged through me.

I stepped forward, moving through the hallway in a daze. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to turn around, to leave, to not do this to myself. But I couldn't.

I reached her bedroom door, which was half open, and I saw.

Isabelle.

My fiancée.

Beneath another man.

Her head was thrown back, her nails digging into his back, her voice breathy and desperate as she whispered things to him that she had once whispered to me.

For a moment, I couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe.

A sickening feeling spread through my chest, she didn't even notice me standing there.

I didn't know how long I stood frozen at the doorway, watching my perfectly controlled life shatter.

And then, finally, something inside me snapped.

I stepped forward, deliberately.

The sound of my shoes against the hardwood made them jerk apart.

Isabelle's eyes flew open. She turned, still breathless, still tangled in sheets and sin, and when she saw me, all color drained from her face.

"Nathaniel..." she gasped, scrambling up, clutching the sheets to her chest. "I...I can explain..."

I laughed. A cold, empty and dangerous laugh.

Explain? What was there to explain?

The man beside her had gone rigid, with panic. I didn't even look at him. I didn't care who he was.

My eyes were on Isabelle. The woman I had planned to marry. The woman I had just spent the entire drive here convincing myself I wanted.

The irony burned.

"Nathaniel, please, let me..."

I turned around and walked out.

Not another word. Not another glance.

I refused to let her see how much she had just wrecked me. She called after me, her voice frantic.

I didn't stop. Didn't look back.

The moment I stepped outside, I exhaled, shoving a hand through my hair, my heart pounding in my ears.

I should have been devastated.

Should have been furious.

But all I felt was...

Relief.

A dark, twisted sense of relief.

Because now, there was nothing holding me back.

Now, I didn't have to restrain myself anymore.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to think about Lillian Carter.

And I didn't feel guilty at all. To make the matter beautiful, she was handed to me on a silver platter...

...and I just couldn't resist.

Lillian's POV

I was officially the queen of evasion.

For the past three days, I had successfully dodged, sidestepped, and outright avoided any form of contact with Nathaniel Caldwell. My boss.

The man I had unknowingly slept with.

The same man I had been trying to scrub out of my memory, only to be slapped in the face with reality when I walked into the office Monday morning and saw him looking irresistible as he walked to he elevator.

I had felt the blood drain from my face so fast I nearly passed out.

And since then, I had been playing an elaborate game of cat and mouse, except in this case, the cat had no idea the mouse was desperately scurrying to avoid being seen.

Any time my boss in the finance department needed a report delivered to the CEO, I came up with the most ridiculous excuses.

"Lillian, can you have this delivered to the boss's office, please. Linda just started to work on a report." He said and my eyes widened, thankfully he didn't catch on.

"Oh, I just got a call, I need to run an urgent errand." I quickly put my phone against my ear and ran out of the office like the place was on fire.

"But..." I sent a polite smile his way and never looked back.

But, I think fate decided to gang up on me, because soon enough, there was another paper report that needed to be delivered to the CEO office and I was the only one available.

Yet, another excuse.

"My shoes are giving me blisters, can someone else go?"

I think at this point, my boss was on to me.

"I think I might be coming down with something, I don't want to spread it."

My coworkers began to get suspicious. But, who would blame them.

Hell, I was suspicious of myself.

It wasn't like I had done anything wrong.

We were two consenting adults, meeting in a club, acting on impulse and attraction.

The problem was, I had done all that thinking I'd never see the man again.

And now?

Now, every time I so much as heard his name, my stomach twisted into knots. And not in a good way. In a way that I want to go back to that night where it was all about me, where he paid extra attention to every of my need.

But, I couldn't risk facing him.

Couldn't handle the moment his gorgeous, piercing gaze locked onto mine again, threatening to unravel me the way he had that night.

So I kept avoiding.

Until today.

Because, as karma would have it, my luck was bound to run out.

***

It started the same way it had the past few days.

I had just received a printed quarterly report from my manager, meant for the CEO's desk.

The CEO's office . The report said and it was dropped on my desk.

I turned to my colleague, Janet, flashing my best help-me-out smile.

"Hey, Janet, can you drop this off in the CEO's office? I..."

She held up a hand, cutting me off.

"Nope."

I blinked. "What?" when did Janet get so brave? She used to be so timid around everyone.

She smirked, arms crossed. "I don't know what's going on with you, Lillian, but this is the fourth time this week you've asked me to take something up there for you. Whatever you're avoiding, you need to handle it yourself."

I opened my mouth to protest, to lie my way out again.

But before I could, she grabbed her purse and shot me a knowing look.

"Good luck," she said, before walking out the door and leaving me alone with my misery.

I sighed, looking down at the report in my hands.

My fingers curled around it, heart hammering as I realized I had no choice.

If I didn't take this report to Nathaniel myself, my manager would start asking questions. And the last thing I needed was more attention.

With a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and forced myself to move. Each step toward his office felt like I was walking into a trap.

By the time I reached his office, my pulse was pounding so hard it echoed in my ears. His secretary was not on seat.

I lifted my hand, hesitated, then knocked.

"Come in," came his deep, authoritative voice.

I swallowed, pushing the door open.

And there he was.

Seated behind his massive desk, one hand resting against his temple as he studied a document.

His jacket was off, his white dress shirt rolled up to his forearms, his tie loosened just enough to look deliciously undone.

It was a problem.

A big problem.

Because now all I could think about was how that same man had been on top of me just nights ago.

He looked up, and the moment his eyes met mine, the air in the room shifted.

Something flickered across his face, surprise, recognition... amusement? I couldn't tell. But, I cleared my throat, shoving the report forward.

"Quarterly analysis from finance, sir."

Nathaniel didn't take it.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze never leaving mine.

"I was starting to think you didn't work here anymore."

My breath caught.

He noticed.

Of course he did. He wasn't an idiot.

I straightened, forcing a neutral expression. "Just been busy."

He let out a quiet chuckle, low and rich, like he saw right through my pathetic attempt at nonchalance.

"Busy avoiding me, you mean."

My stomach flipped.

I refused to confirm it.

Instead, I placed the report on his desk and turned to leave. "Enjoy the report sir."

But before I could reach the door, "I don't regret it."

I froze. I turned, my heart pounding as I met his gaze again.

His expression was unreadable, but there was something undeniable in his voice.

"Do you?" he asked.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. Because, I didn't know how to answer. I wasn't sure I wanted to.

But what scared me the most was that, deep down... I already knew the answer. And no, I don't regret it.

Infact, I crave for more.