Obsessed with My Grumpy Boss (SUGAR & SILK #7) by Cassie Cassell EPUB & PDF

Obsessed with My Grumpy Boss (SUGAR & SILK #7) by Cassie Cassell EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  • Authors: Cassie Cassell
  • Language: English
  • Genre: contemporary romance
  • Format: PDF / EPUB
  • Size: 2 MB
  • Price: Free

Hazel
I hate my boss.
Sometimes, I fantasize about slamming him hard against the wall right
after he barks one of his insane orders at me. In my head, it goes
seamlessly, even though I’m 5’4” and he’s over a foot taller. He’s also a wall
of muscles, nicely tucked under a top-dollar Italian designer suit.

But back to my fantasy—I put him in his place, splaying my hands over
his chest, pressing my palm against his heart, and feeling it beat its way out
of his impressive chest. A small smile forms on my lips, the pang of triumph
finally running down my spine. Oh, yes. After a year of working for him and
putting up with all kinds of bullshit, things are coming to a head.

My contempt. My frustration. My… crazy hot arousal.
He groans, obviously shocked I have the nerve to put a man like him in
his place. But it’s been a long time coming… So I give him a once over and
press my body against him, tipping up my chin to get a glimpse of his dark
blue eyes. Eyes that almost darken to black when he’s upset. Which is often.

The man is miserable.
Sexy as hell and miserable like the devil. What an unfortunate
combination.
I wish I could—

“Hazel.” His deep voice sends prickles to every nerve in my body. He
pops his head out of his office and steps toward my desk.
I immediately drop my pen and close my journal. I shove it inside the
drawer, the second one from the top, and raise my gaze to his. When my
coworker, Emma, recommended journaling to relieve stress, I don’t know if
she meant it like this—at work, when I’m on the clock. I also may have
omitted to tell her I’m attracted to my boss, but if I share my obsession with
her, the whole office will know the next day.

“Yes?”
He narrows his eyes and cocks his head to the side. “My office.”
I stand, smoothing my hands over my sensible black blouse and pants
ensemble. “Of course.”

I make my way to his office, counting the ten steps to his heavy, dark
wood open double doors. As usual, the view of downtown Dallas greets me,
as does the skyline displayed on the glass wall behind the man sitting at the
desk.

His space represents him well: austere, sophisticated, and lacking in
emotional and personal touches. A few photographs stack the shelves,
mostly of him with influential people and the awards he’s won in the travel
industry. A set of leather sofas, a coffee table, and a wet bar occupy the
large right corner of the space.

He clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him.
The man. The devil himself. Archer Cromwell.

The forty-two-year-old CEO and founder of Cromwell Travel.
“Let’s go over your daily mistake,” he says sarcastically. “I asked you to
send flowers to Allegra.”

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