The Gentleman
Author
Laila Black
Reads
4.2M
Chapters
45
After Rosalie Millar has a one-night stand with a handsome stranger, she vows to never do it again. The trouble is...she can’t get him out of her mind! As it turns out, the stranger isn’t much of a stranger at all—he’s Daniel Rossi, owner of the publishing company she just started working for! At first, Rose wonders if he even remembers their heated encounter—he doesn’t seem to recognize her at all. But when Rose pens an erotic story based on their night together and submits it to a writing contest...her manuscript ends up on Mr. Rossi’s desk.
Age Rating: 18+
1: The Gentleman’s T-shirt
ROSE
I gave my cheeks a quick pinch, tucking my hair behind my ears. The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and I turned around to face the familiar sight of his penthouse.
“You sure took your time.”
Daniel was quick to undress me as soon as I stepped into his apartment, my dress pooling at my feet. He looked at me with a hunger in his eyes before he moved in, like a predator that hadn’t eaten in days.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous.”
He trailed hot kisses along my neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.
I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, tossing it aside without a second glance. He lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried me through the hallway and dropped me onto the bed.
He pinned my hands above my head, his touch igniting a fire within me. He kissed his way down my body, pausing at my stomach to blow cool air over my heated skin.
His eyes met mine before he disappeared between my legs, his nose brushing against the inside of my thighs.
“Rose.” My name sounded like a sweet melody on his lips, his light accent stirring a warmth deep within me.
It was a warning, and I should have been ready for what came next. A moan slipped past my lips, my head falling back as he skillfully teased my clit, drawing slow circles around it.
“Daniel, please.” I squirmed under his touch, the anticipation building. I turned my head to the side, squeezing my eyes shut against the pressure building within me.
“Look at me,” he commanded, lifting my chin with his finger and tracing lazy circles on my bottom lip. He slipped his thumb into my mouth, watching as I sucked on it, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
Suddenly, he focused his attention on my clit, his fingers moving in and out of me at a steady rhythm.
I ran my fingers through his jet-black hair, the dark strands shining under the moonlight streaming in through the tall windows.
My hips jerked under his touch, my knees trembling as I cried out in pleasure.
He held my hips down, continuing his ministrations, pushing me over the edge again and again. His fingers teased my nipples, lightly pinching the sensitive flesh.
“Oh—” I came back to reality to find his eyes burning with desire.
I heard the sound of a zipper being undone and watched as he ripped open a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled it onto his length.
He pushed my knees up, spreading my thighs wide, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. I gasped at his size, earning a chuckle from him. His cock was thick and curved just right to make me burn.
He gently bit my earlobe before whispering, “I can’t take it slow today, love.”
I shivered at his words, meeting his gaze. “That’s fine by me.”
Before I could catch my breath, he thrust into me, making me whimper and dig my nails into his back as he peppered my cheek with soft kisses.
I moved my hips against his, the curve of his cock hitting a spot inside me that made me gasp. Taking my response as encouragement, he quickened his pace, thrusting in and out relentlessly.
He pushed my knees back and further apart, allowing him to go deeper. I was a mess, his thumb returning to my clit.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, his lips crashing onto mine in a passionate kiss, his minty taste becoming addictive.
He played with my nipples, pinching and pulling, drawing moans from me. He took one into his mouth, lightly sucking on the sensitive flesh, flicking the bud with his tongue.
His thrusts became faster, and I felt myself start to unravel again, the waves of pleasure building. He bit lightly into my shoulder, a series of low groans escaping him as he came hard, pushing me over the edge once more.
He collapsed next to me, pulling me against his chest. I draped myself over him, my body begging for rest.
“You’re something else, aren’t you?” He traced lazy circles on my shoulder.
If we were a couple, this would have been considered cute. Or sweet. Maybe even passionate.
But we weren’t.
He was my boss, and I was his employee.
And he had no idea.
I’m Rose Millar, and this is the story of how I ended up in my boss’s bed.
In the grand scheme of things, this fact is insignificant—what really matters is that my manuscript ended up on his desk.
The manuscript that was an erotica.
About him.
***
The early morning sun peeked through my eyelids, casting a golden glow across the room. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and I groaned when I saw my torn dress.
The bed was cold next to me, my face heating up at the thought of the awkward conversation that was bound to happen.
I replayed the events of last night in my head, focusing on one detail—Daniel.
Well, at least I know his name.
I rolled out of the bed, wincing at the soreness between my legs. The sound of running water reached my ears, and I let out a sigh of relief.
I looked around for something to cover myself with, my eyes landing on a large black T-shirt.
After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled the shirt over my body, glancing warily at the bathroom door. Guilt weighed heavy in my stomach as I paced the room nervously.
I can’t just take his T-shirt.
I made a mental note to never have a one-night stand again as I started the hunt for my belongings, finding one shoe at the front door and the other under the bed before slipping them on.
Panic washed over me as the sound of the running water stopped. I took a deep breath, spotting a notepad on the bedside table with a pen on top.
I sat down to write him a note, to tell him I’d return his T-shirt, but I found a message already written on the page.
Have breakfast with me~.
I gasped, my cheeks turning a deep shade of red as I remembered the sinful things he had whispered in my ear while thrusting into me last night.
I was at a loss for what to do, so I did the only thing that came to mind.
I took off.
Leaving the notepad behind, I dashed out of the room, making a beeline for the front door just as the bathroom door creaked open.
Without daring to glance back, I closed the door behind me, scrambling through the house and down the stairs.
***
The warm water cascaded over my bare skin, soothing my sore muscles. My wandering fingers found their way to my core as my mind drifted back to the previous night. I let out a sigh.
I’d never experienced sex like that before, raw and wild, skin against heated skin.
After a quick towel dry, I wiped the steamy mirror clear, my skin radiating a fresh glow. My stomach growled loudly, pleading for breakfast.
Grabbing a mug of coffee from the kitchen, I hobbled into the living room, silently cursing the man from last night.
I settled into the couch, flipping open my laptop to view my manuscript. The scene I’d been itching to write filled the screen—I’d been saving it for last. Something spicy and sensual.
My mind wandered back to the night before, to his intoxicating scent and intense gaze.
My fingers clenched the cushion as I recalled the way my orgasms had washed over me and how his fingers had felt against my skin.
With those thoughts swirling in my mind, I started to type, illustrating the night with my words.
There was no denying it—it was incredible. Guilt twisted in my gut as I pictured his surprise at finding an empty bed.
And his missing T-shirt.
Heat spread across my skin, warmth gathering in my core with every word I typed. A sudden ring startled me. Clearing my throat, I picked up my phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Rosalie, how are you doing?”
I suppressed a groan at her overly cheerful voice, easily detecting the spite in her tone.
Despite my numerous requests for my manager to call me Rose, she clung to Rosalie stubbornly.
“I’m good, thanks. How are yo—”
“Great, so you’ll be able to come into the office today.” She stated it as a fact, interrupting me.
“Excuse me? But I—”
“I know you usually come in once a week, but the new boss wants to meet each employee personally.”
Her words came out in a rapid-fire, making it hard to keep up.
“That’s nice of him—”
She laughed coldly, “He’s far from nice—he’s planning staff cuts on his first day, so do yourself a favor and get your British ass here.”
I brushed off her comment, my face turning pale. “He’s firing people?”
“Yes, and—”
Now it was my turn to interrupt. “I’ll be there as soon as I can!”
