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  Snowed in with my Boss

  Mia Madison

  Snowed in with my Boss

  Copyright © 2017 by Mia Madison

  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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  1. Adam

  2. Kayla

  3. Adam

  4. Kayla

  5. Adam

  6. Kayla

  7. Adam

  8. Kayla

  9. Adam

  10. Kayla

  11. Adam

  12. Kayla

  13. Adam

  14. Kayla

  15. Adam

  About the Author

  Adam

  “The cabin has been prepared according to your requests, sir.”

  Jones stood in the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, regarding me with thinly veiled curiosity as I finished zipping up the last bag I required for my vacation. I nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him, and he took it as a sign to continue.

  “Your driver is waiting downstairs. Shall I take your bags to the car?”

  “I’ve got them, thanks. You’re dismissed, Jones. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  Jones kept the stoic expression firmly in place even as he shuffled on his feet by the door. I had a pretty good idea of what he intended to say, and it made my eye twitch in irritation.

  “Spit it out,” I ordered.

  The quicker he said it, the quicker I could get the hell out of here.

  “Are you sure this is how you want to spend your holiday, sir? In total isolation?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Your father—”

  “My father will be perfectly fine without my company this Christmas. In fact, I’m betting that he prefers it this way.”

  “That’s not what he implied when he called earlier.”

  I waved my hand through the air and scoffed. “Formalities. He argues the point because that’s what’s expected of him—not because he cares. Trust me, they’ll be happy to be rid of me.”

  Jones was silent as I lifted my bags and strode to the door, stepping in line behind me as we made our way to the elevator. Once the doors slid closed, he let out a heavy sigh and shot me an apologetic look.

  “I only mentioned it because I wish for you to have a wonderful holiday. No one should spend Christmas alone.”

  The corner of my lip curled up on its own accord. I could see Jones watching my expression with a frown, his eyebrows knitting together with confusion as I turned to him and smiled.

  “Who says I’ll be alone?”

  The thin layer of snow crunched under my feet as I walked up the sidewalk to the cabin. My driver followed dutifully behind, glancing around at the scenery as we made our way up the front steps and I moved to unlock the door.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thank you.”

  That was all the small talk—one of the many reasons I loved my driver and paid him handsomely to be available only to me. He wasn’t cold enough to never speak, but when he did, it was short and to the point. Considering how often I was forced to listen to long-winded speeches and the occasional lecture from my father, it was a welcome change.

  He stepped inside and waited by the door while I surveyed the cabin to make sure everything was in working condition and ready for an extended stay. I wouldn’t be leaving for two weeks and there wasn’t a store or restaurant who would make deliveries this far out. I’d be completely alone.

  Well, at least until—

  “I put the rest of the bags by the door. Everything good?”

  I snapped out of my thoughts and closed the refrigerator, turning back to Eric as I said, “Looks like. You’re free to go.”

  “All right. Call me if you need me.”

  “Will do. Happy holidays, Eric.”

  “Same to you, sir.”

  By the time the front door shut, I had moved into the living room area to inspect the fireplace. I listened to the car turn around and begin the trek down the driveway until I couldn’t hear it anymore. The moment it was out of range, I felt myself beginning to smile. I sat down on the couch and let the silence begin to seep in.

  My eyelids suddenly felt heavy and it didn’t take much consideration before I decided to let them drift shut. The cabin was silent save for the sound of my deep breaths.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I was so completely alone. Long enough to forget how relaxing it was. Just the thought of sitting around for two weeks reading, cooking, and doing anything not related to work was… liberating.

  I cracked open my eyes and raised my hips, digging into my back pocket and sliding out my cell. After connecting to the cabin’s internet signal, I brought up the local weather report and scrolled through the feed.

  A blizzard was expected within two days, giving me plenty of time to get everything set up and maybe even relax a bit as well. I stood and cracked my neck, rolling my shoulders and wincing at the stiffness. I wasn’t willing to rely on the power staying on through the storm, so I had a generator and plenty of gas delivered long before my arrival.

  But even a generator wouldn’t keep the cabin heated. The stock of firewood in the house was sparse. Before I could relax, I needed to make sure there was at least a fair amount stored in the shed.

  Freezing to death wasn’t on my vacation agenda.

  After donning my winter coat again, I made my way out to the woodshed. My axe was still hung on the wall where I left it during my last visit and the large stack of wood suggested that the man I hired to come by and chop wood two weeks ago had done a phenomenal job. There was no way I’d run out. I had enough to make it through at least a month of the harsh winter weather.

  Satisfied, I headed back to the cabin to unpack my bags.

  It was a struggle to keep my impatience in check during the hours that followed. Despite knowing I could spend the time relaxing, I felt tenser than ever while unpacking and cleaning up the bedroom of the house in preparation of my stay.

  Sleeping was difficult as well. The bedsheets were clean and the mattress was as comfortable as ever, but anticipation kept me awake for hours.

  Anticipation and maybe a hint of anxiety. Not that I intended to admit that.

  I kept a close eye on the weather report the next morning. The storm was moving in faster than they originally thought, now they were expecting the heavy snow to begin just before dinner time.

  I needed to act fast. I switched the stove off and rushed into the bedroom, removing my cell from the charger and mentally preparing myself for what I had to do.

  The time frame was challenge enough, but if I didn’t nail this short phone call, all my preparations would go to waste and I really would be spending the next two weeks completely alone.

  Kayla

  “Kay! Get in here!”

  “I’m coming!” I shouted, cursing under my breath as I towel dried my hair and reached for my bathrobe. Marcy called for me again and I groaned as I yelled, “Give me a minute!”

  “Hurry! It’s an emergency!”

  I shoved my arms into the sleeves and hastily tied the sash, rushing out of the bathroom to see what was going on. She sounded panicked. The urgency in her voice made my heart race as I practically sprinted to the living room.

  “What
is it? What’s wrong?” I asked, my eyes darting around the room, finding nothing out of place.

  Well, except for Marcy. She was standing beside her newest purchase—a fake Christmas tree—one foot on the floor and the other on one of our kitchen chairs. Between the chair and her sheepish expression, the ‘emergency’ was obvious.

  “I could’ve gotten it if our chairs weren’t so shit,” she whined as I marched over and plucked the angel from her hand.

  “Tall girl to the rescue,” I muttered, stretching up on my tiptoes to place the angel on the tree. “Ta-da! Can I get dressed now?”

  “Yep!”

  I turned to walk away, pausing with a frown as I looked back and surveyed the top of the tree.

  “Hey, how’d you get the ornaments up there?”

  A sly grin appeared on her lips as she held up a finger and darted to the coffee table. She raised a warped metal clothes hanger and tapped her skull with a single finger, winking at me.

  “Clever, huh?”

  I would have rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. After all, it was pretty clever.

  “You’re a genius, Marcy.”

  “I know, girl. Now go put your damn pants on. My folks will be here any minute.”

  I nodded and took the cue to leave, glancing back at her as she surveyed the tree critically, tapping her chin while muttering to herself before tweaking the location of ornaments in a few spots. I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling as I entered my room and went to my closet.

  Since my wardrobe was a lot less extensive than Marcy’s, I chose the bedroom with the smaller closet when we moved into this apartment. It was larger than the one I had growing up, though I kind of wished it wasn’t. It was embarrassingly empty.

  “Plenty of work clothes,” I muttered to myself, reaching out to touch the hem of a tailored pencil skirt. “But nothing for vacation.”

  When I started my job, I realized I had a choice. I could put together a well-rounded wardrobe and feel out of place at the office, or I could pour my spare money into professional clothing to fit in better.

  I’d been seriously considering the former right up until I met my new boss, Mr. Reynolds.

  Funny how quick meeting a gorgeous billionaire could change your mind about things. Every extra dollar I had went into building a stylish and sexy wardrobe crafted solely to impress him.

  What made the clothes so depressing was my efforts hadn’t done a damn bit of good. No matter how flattering the outfit or how I did my hair and make-up, I got nothing but Mr. Reynolds’s ire.

  I was warned about him when I started the job. ‘Assistants don’t last long with Mr. Reynolds.’ I had proven that wrong at the very least, but I wasn’t immune to the behavior that caused so many to quit. He was a demanding man, not to mention curt, cold, and occasionally rude.

  Everything needed to be perfect to earn even the tiniest bit of praise. He was generous with money—I’d been given four raises in my two years with him—but not so great with expressing his gratitude.

  Despite his flaws, he continued to intrigue me. I worked hard—not just because of my love for the job, but desperately hoping that I would one day attract his attention, even if it was only in a professional way. I just wanted… something. Some form of acknowledgment.

  Something to prove that I wasn’t invisible to him. That I was worthy of notice. Worthy of his notice.

  I hated that it all boiled down to a man’s approval. What made it worse was I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Not even on my first long vacation since starting this job.

  I had no idea what I was going to do with myself for the next two weeks. My entire life revolved around my job and Mr. Reynolds. The messed up part was I liked it that way.

  With a scowl, I flipped past my work clothes and grabbed one of my few pairs of jeans and a sweater.

  I was still muttering to myself when I heard Marcy shouting that her parents had arrived. I picked up the pace, running my fingers through my wet hair to make it less messy. Not that Sheila and Pete would mind. I’d been best friends with Marcy for years and had come to think of her mom and dad as the parents I no longer had.

  A mere foot away from passing through the doorway, my cell phone started to ring from my nightstand. I frowned at the noise—only one person had that specific ringtone—and rushed over to answer the call as if on autopilot.

  “Mr. Reynolds?” I dumbly asked, closing my eyes as soon as the question left my mouth.

  I could nearly see the twist of his lips as he sarcastically asked, ’Who else would be calling you from this number?’

  To my great surprise, those words never came over the line. After a beat of silence—no doubt to control a snippy response—he cleared his throat and said, “Yes. Hello.”

  “Hello,” I slowly replied, feeling my frown deepen with every second that passed. The silence stretched on without him breaking it, so I relented and asked, “Did you need something, sir?”

  “Yes. The files I asked you to go over last week. I need them now.”

  What?

  “I thought you were out of the city?” I asked incredulously.

  Had he seriously given up his vacation for work? I both admired his dedication and hated his workaholic tendencies at the same time.

  “I’m in a small town not far from Albany. I need those files and anything you have on the Cain project right away.”

  “You…. What? Albany is at least a two-hour drive!”

  Mr. Reynolds hummed in acknowledgement and said, “Then you best get a move on. Don’t worry—you’ll be compensated well for going so far out of your way.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll text you the address. See you soon.”

  The phone beeped in my hand right as my jaw dropped. I tugged it away from my face and stared at the screen, willing it to give me answers about what the hell was going on.

  I startled when my phone vibrated and beeped. I opened the text and plugged the address into Google Maps, groaning when the estimated drive time said it’d be closer to three hours than two.

  Marcy appeared in the doorway, her smile dropping when she saw the look on my face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I sighed and rushed around the room, gathering the files Mr. Reynolds requested and shoving them into my bag.

  “Go to lunch without me. I’ve got to drop these off to Mr. Reynolds.”

  “I thought you said he was going out of town.”

  “He did.”

  “Kay. Kayla! Stop.” Marcy grabbed my shoulders to hold me in place. “Did he seriously ask you to drive out to bumfuck to deliver work shit? What happened to vacation?”

  “I don’t know, but I need to get them to him. It’ll be worse if I don’t.” She opened her mouth to argue with me, so I gave her my brightest smile and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll go straight there and come straight back. I’ll be back for dinner with your parents. And hey—the overtime pay will be so worth it.”

  That got her. A pensive look flashed across her face before she broke into a large grin. She knew as well as I did that Mr. Reynolds would pay me heavily for this sort of favor. He gave me an extra two-hundred once just for picking up his dry-cleaning when his other assistant was sick.

  “We are so going shopping after you get your next paycheck.”

  “Hell yes!”

  “Okay. You get a move on and I’ll tell my folks about the change in plan. Drive safe, all right?”

  “I always do.”

  She disappeared and I double-checked that I had everything he requested. After a moment of hesitation, I also grabbed all the other work files I had in the apartment. It wouldn’t hurt to bring them just in case.

  After tossing my phone into my purse and grabbing my winter coat, I was officially ready to go. Straight there and straight back would hardly put a dent in my vacation.

  Six hours was no big deal.

  Adam

  The plan was set. All I had left to do was utilize
my patience while I waited for her to arrive.

  My first logical step was a shower and a shave. I grabbed a set of clean clothes and headed for the bathroom, twisting the shower knob and shedding my clothes.

  While I waited for the water to warm, I stood in front of the mirror and inspected my reflection. I wasn’t insecure in any way, though I seemed unable to stop myself from wondering what Kayla saw when she looked at me. She was fifteen years younger than myself, and while women typically appreciated my appearance, the looming thought that she might look at me and see a father-figure made me deeply uncomfortable.

  Not uncomfortable enough to subdue my half-hard cock, however. I looked down at it with a smirk, inspecting both it and my abdomen.

  If she saw me like this, there was no way she’d be able to resist seeing me as a man. I just needed to play my cards right to make sure I’d have an opportunity to show her.

  Standing under the spray of warm water and considering her reaction to my body didn’t help matters regarding my cock. By the time I finished washing my hair, it was fully stiff. I ignored it for as long as possible, but when it was time to wash it, I gave in to the urge to work my fist over the shaft repeatedly. I braced my other palm on the shower wall and closed my eyes, recalling various mental images of Kayla.

  Kayla’s shy smile on her first day of work.

  Kayla’s long legs in translucent tights and stiletto heels.

  Kayla’s ass in a tight pencil skirt, bending over to pick up something she’d dropped.

  Kayla’s eye twitch and look of frustration when I gave her too much work and not enough praise. The fire behind her eyes as she met my glare without fear.