Free The Boss Vol. 2 (The Boss #2) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott Page B

taking charge when it came to sex.
    When the bill came, I took it without glancing at the total and reached for my wallet. The remaining afterglow in her cheeks faded as she watched me withdraw my card.
    “I’ll pay my share. Let me see the bill.”
    I didn’t mean to laugh. She, on the other hand, definitely intended to pinch my tensed thigh, which had the unintentional consequence of causing my cock to jerk.
    “You’re not paying,” I said through gritted teeth. “So unless you intend to do for me what I did for you, save your pinches for another time.”
    “This isn’t a date, and I always pay my own way.”
    “It’s not a date, and I don’t care what you always do. I ordered, I’m paying. And when we leave here, I intend to fuck you so hard you forget how to argue with me.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Your dick isn’t that big, pal.”
    “Oh no?” I grabbed her hand and brought it to the placket of my pants, completely unconcerned at the crudeness of the gesture. Watching her pupils drown out her sea-toned irises was ridiculously satisfying. “Maybe I should start by fucking your mouth.”
    She darted her gaze to her hand as it closed reflexively around my shaft. I nearly groaned aloud. Slowly, she licked her lips. “Maybe you should.”
    Damn, this woman.
    “Next time I’ll pay,” she said as I signed the charge slip. I didn’t laugh this time. Rather, I shot her a speculative glance. Her hand was still on my dick, and she was talking about next times.
    “At lunch in the office or whatever,” she muttered, yanking her hand back and reaching for the lanterns we’d placed on the seat. Only our two remained. We’d given the rest away.
    I said nothing as the waiter took the bill and my card.
    Once he returned my credit card to me, I urged Grace out of the booth and we walked out into the chilly night. She shivered in her light jacket so I offered her my black trenchcoat, which she refused.
    Shocker.
    Neither of us spoke on our walk back to Triton Tower. We ascended in silence to the roof, though I saw Grace’s dark mood begin to lift once she spotted the helicopter. I didn’t even have to nudge her to get inside. She’d taken her seat and set aside the lanterns to work on her harness before I even reached the aircraft.
    “Need help?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “I watched you the first time. I’m good.”
    More than a little disappointed I wouldn’t get to cop a feel as I had the first time, I took my seat behind the controls.
    In moments, we were in the air again. Grace was straining against the straps, her fingers clenching and unclenching against her thighs as she took in the view of the landscape below.
    “I wonder what it’s like to fuck up here,” she said above the roar of the rotors and I nearly came in my pants.
    For once, I was absolutely speechless.
    I hadn’t recovered by the time we touched down on the roof of my building. She seemed reluctant to undo her harness, and for a moment, I wished I’d thought to extend our night ride.
    “Next time, we’ll stay out longer,” I said, swallowing hard as she shot me a sharp look. She finished undoing her straps, grabbed the lanterns and got down from the cockpit before I could unglue my tongue.
    I disembarked and joined her near the wall that circled the roof. The view from this high up was stunning. Glittering lights from the myriad skyscrapers that made up downtown Boston competed with the view of the harbor. The sliver of moonlight cast diamonds upon the black sheet of water, and a tumult of dark clouds rushed across the milky gray sky.
    And Grace stood against the wind, her pale hands clutching the wall, her golden hair streaming behind her.
    She was another kind of angel. An angel of the darkness, capable of causing men to fall to their deaths from the highest peaks.
    I moved up behind her, well aware of the cameras that now recorded our movements. But I didn’t care. If I didn’t get my hands on her again, I was going to