Page 51 of Following His Orders

“Is there a reason you don’t want to tell me who he is? Bentley Johnson, I swear to God, if you’ve gone and hooked up with a mob boss or a president of a biker club or worse, I will lock you in your room until you come to your senses,” she says.

“What could be worse than a mob boss?” I ask her, honestly curious as to what her answer is.

“Ted Bundy,” she deadpans.

“Good news then. It’s not Ted Bundy.” I laugh.

Mum raises an eyebrow at me in question. She’s waiting for me to elaborate.

“It’s #hotboss AKA Nathan Miller,” Jules says, butting into the conversation as she enters the kitchen.

“You’re dating your boss?” Mum turns to me, but there’s no judgement in her voice.

“Kind of.” I cover my face with my hands.

She reaches out and pries my hands away. “Bentley, is he taking advantage of you?”

“What? No, of course not,” I tell her.

“Nope, she’s takingfull advantage of him, though. I heard he has a magic cock,” Jules adds with a grin.

“I’m going to kill you,” I hiss at my sister, who really needs to learn to keep her bloody mouth shut.

“You love me too much to do that.” She pokes her tongue out at me. Unfortunately, she’s right. I do love her too much. But I’d consider causing her some serious bodily harm. Something she’ll recover from… maybe.

“Bring him to dinner on Saturday night,” my mum directs at me, snapping me out of my daydream as I was listing all the ways I could get back at my sister in my head.

“Ah, I think he has plans already. Maybe another time,” I lie.

“You’re lying. Bring him to dinner, Bentley. If you like him as much as you say you do, then I’m sure I will too.” She leans in and kisses the top of my head. “I gotta run. I have to stop at the post office before work,” she says.

As soon as I hear the front door close, I turn my heated glare on Jules. “Really? Where’s the sisterly loyalty?”

“What? I was helping you. You were obviously too scared to fess up to earning extra benefits from the boss. What was it you called them at the bar? That’s right. O benefits.” She laughs.

“I hate you,” I groan.

“I hate you too,” she sings while pouring herself a glass of orange juice.

My phone vibrates on the table. Plucking it off the benchtop, I see a message from Nathan.

#HotBoss:

Morning, beautiful. Don’t forget we have a breakfast date. I’ll be by to pick you up in thirty minutes.

“Shit!” I scream and jump off the stool. “I’ve got to shower. Talk later,” I tell Jules as I run upstairs.

Exactly twenty-eight minutes later, I’m running out the front door and sliding into Nathan’s waiting car.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies. His hands cup both sides of my face right before his lips descend onto mine. His tongue pushes past the seam, swirling around the inside of my mouth. My fingers grasp the lapels of his jacket. Why the hell did I go home last night and not stay with him?

Then I remember and I break away from the kiss. “Why didn’t you wake me up yesterday?”

“What?” he asks, and his eyebrows draw down.

“You left me asleep while you went back to work. I have a job too. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

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