Hot for Boss Read online

  Hot For Boss

  Tracey Carter

  Contents

  Blurb

  Title

  Note to Readers

  1. Rochelle

  2. Rochelle

  3. Michael

  4. Rochelle

  5. Rochelle

  6. Michael

  Epilogue

  Other Titles by Tracey Carter

  Note to Readers

  About the Author

  Hot for Boss 2019 by Tracey Carter

  All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  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 persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Blurb

  Who knew that mixing business and pleasure could lead to love?

  Michael

  I’ve had Rochelle working as my assistant for years, admiring her beautiful dark skin and curvy body from afar. How would want a man so much older than them? She could have anyone she wanted. But when a potential business partner wants to have dinner with me and my non-existent girlfriend, I grab at the chance to take her out, even if she thinks it’s all fake.

  Rochelle

  I’ve had a secret crush on my boss since the moment I walked into his office for my interview three years ago. Older, hot, rich, and tattooed, not to mention the nicest man a woman could ever meet. What’s not to love? But he can have anyone. When I blow a major deal for him, I know not only is my job destroyed, but any chances of something more. Imagine my surprise when he refuses to let go so easily.

  Title

  Hot for Boss

  An Older Man Younger Woman, BBW,

  Interracial, Steamy, Sweet Romance

  Tracey Carter

  Note to Readers

  Thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you’ve enjoyed it, I would deeply appreciate it if you left a review. If you would like to know when I have new releases, promotions, or anything else, please sign up for my newsletter by clicking below. Plus, an EXCLUSIVE, FREE short story!

  Sign up for my newsletter!

  And if you want to read my past releases, you can find them here!

  Chapter One

  Rochelle

  It should be illegal for my boss to be as hot as he is. There is something about a powerful man covered in tattoos that triggers something in me. When I first started working for Michael Driver three years ago, I was instantly attracted to him. Blond with ice-cold eyes and tattoos on his neck and down his arms to his hands.

  When I did my interview to become his personal assistant, I knew if I got the job I would have to get over whatever crush I was developing on him. Yet, here I am, three years later and still at the point that when he walks by my desk, I have to pull myself together and get my job done. It doesn't help that he is genius levels smart and a pretty kind man, despite his gruff nature.

  This is what runs through my mind today, instead of typing up the notes from Michael's latest acquisition meeting. Sure, him buying out yet another business to add to his empire should be important, but all I want to think about is how good he looked in his suit during the meeting. That man can pull off a nice suit, especially since he takes so much pride in his appearance and only wears custom-tailored suits.

  The phone rings and jerks me out of my thoughts. "Good afternoon, Michael Driver's office." I nod, though no one can see me, and I take down the message. Shortly after I hang up the phone, a hush falls over the office. That can only mean one thing: Michael is here.

  I stand up, smoothing down my pencil skirt and patting my hair to make sure my twist out is still good. Michael is kind, but he is a tough boss and only expects the best. So whenever he comes into the office everyone snaps to attention and is on their best behavior.

  "Good, afternoon, Mr. Driver."

  "How many times do I have to ask youth call my Michael, Rochelle?" It is only through years of working with him, that I know he is teasing.

  I smile at him, "As I always say, at least one more time, Mr. Driver."

  He lets out a quiet snort. "Any messages?"

  "Mr. Banks has called about setting up a dinner to finalize his deal. There were also a few calls from assistants in other departments wanting approval for expenses."

  Michael nods absently and moves to sit behind his desk. "Hmm" is all he says. I didn't expect much more. He is generally a man of few words.

  I don't wait for him to dismiss me and when I leave his office, he does nothing to stop me. That's his way. When he needs me again he will buzz for me and I will come running to him. Because I am a damn good assistant, not because I am half in love with my boss.

  Michael

  It takes everything in me not to curse the world. I haven't made it to where I am today because I am quick to lose my temper. I learned to control that when I was just a teen trying to scrape together any little bit I could and realized that my anger would run more people off than bring me money.

  But, in this instance, it was a strenuous exercise in effort.

  Mr. Banks, the man that had almost 20 million dollars in contracts that would send my company to the next level, was a bit of an old fashioned coot. I'd personally returned his call after Rochelle told me he wanted to me. Color me surprised when he specified he wanted to meet for dinner. He and his wife and me and my non-existent girlfriend.

  He wanted to know that his company would be in the hands of a man that held the same values as his own. So, of course, I told him that he would meet the man for dinner that night, girlfriend in tow. What else had there been for me to do? I wanted his company and if that meant fudging the truth a little to get it, then so be it.

  Now the problem is to find a "girlfriend" in the next few hours. It's not as if I don't have a metaphorical Rolodex of women I could call up, but none of them seem quite right for dinner with Mr. Banks. I need someone I could trust, but would also know the dinner was purely business and not to expect more.

  A soft knock comes at my door. "Come in."

  Rochelle, my assistant, comes in. "Can I order you a lunch today, Mr. Driver?"

  For a moment, I am struck dumb. Rochelle is perfect. I've always known she was a beautiful woman with her golden brown skin and natural, curly hair a halo around her face. She wasn't one of those too skinny girls where you could count her ribs. No, she had some weight on her that gave her glorious curves. Plus, she was witty and intelligent. Way too smart to be my assistant, but I was waiting on the perfect position to place her in.

  Rochelle would make the perfect dinner companion for my dinner with Mr. Banks tonight.

  Instead of answering her question, I lean forward, resting my elbows on my desk and ask her my own question. "What are you doing tonight?"

  She looks surprised at my question. "Um, nothing, sir. Do you need me to go over some paperwork for you?"

  "Would you care to go to dinner with me tonight?" She is even more surprised by that, so I quickly explain the situation to her and she nods her understanding, quickly agreeing.

  With that in place, I instruct her to leave a little early this afternoon and use the company card to get something appropriate to wear and I would pick her up in a town car around 7. It is all too easy and I am glad I have someone as wonderful as Rochelle by my side.

  Chapter Two

  Rochelle

  I never thought in a million years I would ever
be going on a date with Michael. I know it's not a real date, but even this fake one for a client is going to give me the tiniest of peeks into what being his woman would be like. With how masculine and demanding he is in the boardroom, there is no doubt he would be just the same in the bedroom.

  My cheeks heat at the thought of Michael in the bedroom. Being able to see exactly how far those tattoos spread.

  I run to the bathroom to freshen myself. His driver should be here any minute to pick me up and I don't want to smell of my arousal to be obvious. How embarrassing would that be?

  When Michael gave me money to get something to wear tonight, I was reluctant to take it at first. I hate the type of women I have seen on his arms before. Plastics that only care about what is in his pants and his wallet. I would hate to seem like them and take his money. But I reasoned with myself that I am going to be a representative of not only Michael's company tonight but of Michael himself.

  With that in mind, I took myself out to one of those little boutiques that would normally be completely out of my price range. There were entirely too many overpriced options, but I wanted to pick something that would impress Michael and his business partner. At first, I was nervous that those little boutiques wouldn't carry something that would fit my full size sixteen figure, but this one little store specialized in high-end clothes for plus size women and I fell in love.

  I ended up settling on a dark purple A-line dress that looked amazing against my dark skin and the skirt flared beautifully against my full hips. I made sure to get a pair of shoes that went with the dress, but I knew I had a clutch that would work with the dress, so I didn't waste his money on needless things.

  The one thing I did splurge on was a necklace. While I was walking to the bus stop after getting the dress and shoes, I saw a small jewelry store and could not stop myself from stepping in. Something about the store called to me. As soon as I walked in I knew why it called to me. On display was a necklace that I had to have.

  It was a simple, delicate looking thing. Plain white gold with a crescent moon hanging on the chain. It was dumb and I didn't need it, but I went ahead and bought it. When I put it on with the dress, I knew it was the perfect accessory to go with it.

  I feel beautiful and I really hope Michael agrees. I would hate for him to think he wasted his time having me come with him and his money getting me a dress.

  When the doorbell rings, I am giddy with excitement. I rush to the door to greet the driver but am surprised to see Michael himself at the door.

  "Mr. Driver! What are you doing here? I thought I would be meeting you at the restaurant."

  He shakes his head. "What kind of date would I be if I had you delivered like some sort of package? I had my driver bring me so I could properly take you out. Wouldn't want Mr. Banks to call bullshit on this relationship. At least not until all the papers are signed."

  At first, my heart was soaring. Michael thought of it as a real date with me. But then, the last two sentences rip that hope out o my heart and curb stomps it. Right. He wants to make sure everything just looks real for Mr. Banks. How could I be so stupid as to think a man like him could ever be remotely interested in me?

  I give him a smile and agree.

  During the drive to the restaurant, I feel like Michael's eyes never leave me. We make small talk that is comfortable, especially considering this is the first time we have ever really spent time together in a semi-social situation. There has been the occasional time we've spoken in a group at a work function when he descends upon us plebeians to make the party stiff for the half an hour he stays. But those times are different. We are never alone and definitely not on a quasi-date.

  But I have spent the last few years around him a lot. I probably know more about Michael's tastes and preferences than anyone else and I know we have much in common. That makes it easy to steer the conversation to topics I know won't bore him.

  The ride feels too short when we arrive at the restaurant.

  Michael, the strong, assertive man that he is, does not bother waiting for the driver to get out and open the door for us. He hops out of the door on his side and rushes over to my door to open it for me. When he holds my hand to help me out of the car, I swear a feel a spark course through our hands straight to my aching pussy.

  We've arrived ahead of Mr. Banks and the woman I know to be his much younger new wife. I can't judge the man too much. Rumor has it that it truly is a love match and I have been lusting after Michael for years and he has to be at least fifteen years my senior.

  With them not here yet, it gives Michael and me a chance to continue talking. What he asks me shocks me, not just because it is personal, but also who knows when Mr. Banks will arrive and overhear us.

  "How is it that you are still single? You've worked for me for how long? Three years? And I've never heard any hint of a man in your life."

  A part of me bristles at the connotation of his question and I am quick to disabuse him of the notion that men don't desire me. I may be a bigger woman and some men look down at that, but I never expected it from Michael.

  "I have dated on and off. I actually have a robust dating life, I just never find someone I connect with well enough to stay with long term. And I prefer to keep my professional life and personal life separate, so I don't bring that kind of thing into work."

  He must catch the hint of anger in my voice and realize his gaff because he is quick to apologize. "I didn't mean it that way. I am sure plenty of men want you. That is actually why I am surprised you are single. You are smart, beautiful, and have an amazing figure."

  As he says this, his eyes wander down to where the crescent moon rests on my collarbone, right above the swell of my breasts. My face heats at the feel of him appreciating my body.

  "I could ask the same about you," I tease, now that I know he isn't trying to insult me. He has me flushing over the idea that he thinks so well of me and that I am beautiful, so it is better for me to put the focus back on him. I can't handle having those blue eyes assessing me so intently and liking what they see. "You come through the office and events with a different woman every time. Why not just pick one and settle?"

  Michael makes a dismissive sound. "Those women only want me for my money. Most of the time they are vapid and can barely string two sentences together that doesn't revolve around how rich I am, how handsome I am, how beautiful they are, and how good we look together."

  "So why not try to find someone more real?"

  He doesn't get a chance to answer that. He thinks for several moments and right when he is about to open his mouth and answer, Mr. and Mrs. Banks approach our table. The two of us stand to greet them.

  "Mr. Banks, very nice to see you again," Michael says. "This is my girlfriend Rochelle. Rochelle, this is Mr. Timothy Banks and his lovely wife, Jane."

  We politely exchange our greetings. Mr. Banks is a kindly looking old man, with stark white hair that makes him look a little like a clean-shaven Santa Claus. The jolly aura about him clashes with the shrewd look I see in his eyes. There is nothing that can ever mask a person's true nature if you look in their eyes.

  Dinner is a fun affair. Jane is a lot more interesting to talk to than I was originally going to give her credit for. I knew that Mr. Banks was said to have married her for more than her looks, but it was nice to see a May-December relationship work so well between them. Though our age difference isn’t as large as theirs, it gives my crush on Michael just a little more hope.

  We are all having such a good time, that we decide to put in orders for dessert. While waiting for that, I excuse myself to visit the ladies’ room. Jane quickly gets up to join me.

  As soon as we are out of earshot, she gives me a conspiratorial grin and says, “Finally, I don’t know if I could listen to them talk shop anymore. I adore my Timmy, but I swear, men and their business.”

  I laugh along with her. “Yes, I swear if Michael could sleep at the office every night, he would.”

  She gasps, “I h
ope you don’t let him. He should be spending his time at home spoiling a beautiful woman like you.”

  I blush and say nothing. I’m cute, but having someone as classically attractive as Jane call me beautiful is almost as embarrassing as when Michael did.

  Chapter Three

  Michael

  When the ladies left, Mr. Banks and I continued talking shop for only a moment or two longer. Silence falls for a moment before the older man smiles at me. "Nice young lady you have there." He nods in the general direction of where the ladies walked off. "She isn't what I expected of you?"

  Dreaded confusion drapes over me. I am almost afraid to ask, but I didn't get where I am now by letting my fear rule me. "What do you mean?"

  He smirks. "Handsome young man like you? Rich to boot? I expect you to have someone more like my Jane, though I suppose some men like the fatter ones."

  The world around me turns red. Then, even worse, I see Rochelle and Jane right behind Mr. Banks. It is clear from the hurt look on Rochelle's face she heard what Mr. Banks said.

  I tear my gaze from her and glare at him. "How dare you say that?" I don't give him a chance to reply. I stand up and throw the white linen napkin that had been resting on my lap onto the table. "I thought you were a man of principles and honor, but now I see you are just a narcissistic, shallow asshole. Keep your fucking business. I would rather be in a real bed with a big and beautiful woman like Rochelle than a metaphorical the likes of you."