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Claimed By Her Boss
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Which is why I should never have hired Emilia. I knew I’d never be able to keep my hands off her. Besides, she’s too young for an old man like me.
But I want her too bad to let her slip away, and now she’s working beside me weekend after weekend, and I keep feeling that urge to make her mine.
I want to own her, and let the whole world know she’s taken…by me.
But being at college for the first time has me thinking about exploring, and experiencing new things.
I don’t want to be a virgin forever. And I might just have to admit to myself that I’ve finally found a man who is worth giving everything to.
But is he giving me the truth, or just telling me what I want to hear…thinking that’s all it takes for a young, naïve girl to make him her first, and only?
*Claimed By Her Boss is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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I sit back in my chair, studying the pile of resumes in front of me and feeling like I would much rather stick a pen into one of my eyeballs than see one more applicant.
What is it with the kids in this town? Every single person who applied for the weekend waiting job at my diner is some kind of idiot. One of them turned up a day and three hours late. Another one of them thought they had applied to be a chef.
Almost all of them displayed none of the qualities I would expect in a professional member of my staff.
It may only be a diner in a small town, but it’s my diner, and I’m not going to hire just anyone. If I have to wait every single table myself as well as doing every other damn task in the place, then I will. Better that than hire some high school kid with more boils on his face than I get through in a day in the kitchen.
The door opens, the bell above it chiming. I have a love-hate relationship with that bell. Usually it signals the entrance of money, but a lot of the times I also want to tear it out to stop it from making that damn noise.
“Hello? I’m supposed to meet Mr. Winchester for an interview?”
I look up, and my breathing stops.
This girl that just came in…she must be my next candidate. Emilia Kirkland. I remember her name from the pile.
But there was no picture attached to that resume, and I sure as hell didn’t expect this.
I don’t suppose I ever really thought about what my ideal woman would look like. Now I don’t ever need to again, because I’ve seen her in the flesh.
She is stunning, but she’s only eighteen. I know this because I checked her date of birth while I was going over her paperwork. She just moved here to study at the nearby college, and she’s living in the dorms between here and there. I guess the jobs closer to the school must all be taken.
Which is an absolutely good thing for me.
“Are you Mr. Winchester?” she asks, uncertainly, tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear.
I clear my throat, remembering where I am. “Yes. Take a seat. Ms. Kirkland, is it?”
She nods in agreement and walks forward to take a seat. I spend the moment admiring what I can of her body before she tucks it away behind the table. Long, slim legs and a petite waist, flowing up to a large chest. Not cartoonishly large given her figure, but big enough that one glance is enough to have me imagining my face buried in it.
She sits, interrupting my admiration…though, of course, the good news is that I can still watch her breasts straining against the white cotton shirt she’s wearing.
“Thank you for inviting me to interview,” she says, politely. “I’m really excited about the chance to work here at Cole’s Diner.”
I grunt. I know she’s lying. Who would be excited to work in a small-town diner? It might be the best eats for miles around, but that doesn’t mean an out-of-towner knows that.
“Tell me about your work history,” I say, running off-script. My brain can’t exactly function correctly at this moment in time, and while she talks, I drink her in.
She has a full, pouty mouth that is just begging to be kissed. Begging for other things, too. I shift in my chair, trying to dissuade my dick from twitching at that thought. I know she can’t see me from this angle, but still. Got to stay professional.
Her eyes are big and wide, the kind of innocent country-girl look that we don’t actually see out here at all. Most of the girls in this town have screwed their way through every eligible man before they head out to college. But Emilia? I can clearly see she’s not that kind of girl, at all.
And that, combined with every other thing about her, makes me want to make her one very special kind of girl. My girl.
I’m lost in imagining how it would feel to wrap my hands in her hair, hold her tight, and shove my tongue into her mouth when she finishes talking.
“Great,” I say, startled into action. “Well, what kind of skills do you think you could bring to the table?”
“I’m great at dealing with customers,” she says.
She keeps talking, giving me examples of all the times she’s served people well, and all I can think about is having her serve me. I imagine how she would look laid back over the table with her legs spread on either side of me, and her white shirt ripped open giving me access to her breasts.
I make it through the rest of the interview in a kind of daze, picturing her in increasingly dirty positions. God, the way her mouth comes together when she says my name. Even her voice…I want to hear how it sounds when she moans and groans and screams.