Contents

  Copyright

  About Tempted by the Bosshole

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Tamed by the Bad Boy Daddy

  Seducing the Innocent

  Also by Shayla Black

  About Shayla Black

  TEMPTED BY THE BOSSHOLE

  A Forbidden Confession: Filthy Rich Bosses

  Written by Shayla Black

  * * *

  This book is an original publication by Shayla Black.

  * * *

  Copyright 2024 Shelley Bradley LLC

  * * *

  Cover Design by: Rachel Connolly

  Edited by: G. G. Royale

  Proofread by: Mallory Black

  Excerpt from Seducing the Innocent © 2020 by Shelley Bradley LLC

  * * *

  ISBN: 978-1-958075-12-8

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by an electronic or mechanical means—except for brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews—without express written permission.

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away, as it is illegal and an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  ABOUT TEMPTED BY THE BOSSHOLE

  * * *

  My best friend’s daughter is off-limits—until I seduce her for revenge.

  When my business partner skips town, he takes everything.

  Except his daughter.

  Burning for retribution, I hire pretty, desperate Isabella to work under me.

  Little does she know, that’s where she’ll spend all her nights and weekends, too.

  * * *

  Until I’ve stolen her future and her will.

  Until I’ve wed and bred her.

  When my former pal returns, he’ll find that all he valued is mine—and I play for keeps.

  Chapter One

  December 1

  Boston

  * * *

  Nathan

  “Okay, spill,” my older brother demands, lounging on my living room sofa and tossing back a swallow of beer. “You’re up to no good.”

  I stare into my whiskey glass, repressing a grin. “What makes you say that?”

  “You’re way too quiet not to be plotting something.”

  He’s not wrong. “Guess.”

  “Well, you tolerated Douglas Shay stealing the money from your joint venture years ago only because he paid you back⁠—”

  “After I threatened the living shit out of him.”

  Steve nods. “So the asshole knows you won’t take the fact he stole your wife lying down.”

  I snort. There’s no way I’d let that son of a bitch steal from me twice.

  “He didn’t.” Julia and I were already on the verge of divorce. “After I ended things, he moved in with her.”

  “Semantics. They were already fucking.”

  “By then, I didn’t care who she spread her legs for. We were done.” In fact, my heart purged Julia as soon as I realized she lied to me for a decade.

  “Then what’s your beef with Shay?”

  “Besides the fact he’s a backstabbing asshole? Julia got half of everything in the divorce. Now she plans to marry that bastard, so he’ll get back all the money he once stole from me—with interest.”

  Steve winces. “That would piss me off, too.”

  “You’ll never have to worry about that, bro. You’ve got the best wife in Laurel.”

  “I do,” Steve says smugly.

  He deserves happiness—and his amazing wife. My sister-in-law is kind, generous, funny, smart… They have a great marriage and a passel of kids, the last of whom just left for college. Besides love, he’s also been blessed with money, success, and security. Steve is living the dream.

  “I want the same for you, Nate. It’s been months since Julia and Doug announced their engagement, and you’ve let this go way longer than I expected.”

  “Eleven months, seven days, and two hours. Who says I’ve let it go?”

  “So you are up to no good.” Steve grins. “Tell me your plan.”

  “Did I mention that Doug has a daughter?”

  He raises a brow. “How old is she?”

  “Fresh out of college. And looking for a job. Or she was until I hired her.”

  His jaw drops. “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, I did. She starts Monday.”

  “Holy shit. Seriously? She must know there’s bad blood between you and Doug.”

  “I don’t think so. During her phone interview, she said she hadn’t spoken to her father in a while.”

  “What did you hire her to do?”

  I grin. “She’ll be my personal assistant, at my beck and call, working directly under me.”

  He nearly chokes on his beer. “Dude, you’re forty. And she’s…what, twenty-two?”

  “Twenty-three.” I shrug. “Why does it matter? She’s an adult, and I’m not dead.”

  “How will you get her into bed, unless… You already have dirt on her, don’t you?”

  I merely smile. My brother knows me too well to think I have qualms about blackmailing Isabella Shay.

  “You son of a bitch.” He laughs. “I almost feel sorry for her. But if she’s anything like her father...”

  “Probably everything like her father.” Though I’ve barely talked to Isabella since she was a gangly thirteen.

  “So…what’s your end game? What do you want from this girl besides raunchy sex?”

  “Fucking her will merely be a fringe benefit. Let’s just say that by the time Julia and Doug return from their honeymoon after New Year’s, everything he left behind will belong to me.” Including his daughter.

  And she will give me the one thing my ex-wife refused to…

  December 16

  Isabella

  “You look hot.” Jen eyes me suggestively. “If you weren’t my best friend⁠—”

  “But I am, and you’re strictly dickly.” I smooth my hands down the figure-hugging red velvet dress, wishing I wasn’t too broke to buy my own. Thank god we wear the same size. “It’s not too much?”

  “Only half your tits are hanging out, and I can’t see vag, so it’s super classy.”

  “Jen…” I huff.

  “I’m kidding!”

  “No, it’s too much.” I pull another dress from her closet. “The black one would be better.”

  She yanks it free and shoves it back on the rack. “God, no. I wear this to funerals. And my exes’ weddings. You’re going to a Christmas party! Wear the red. It looks amazing on you, especially because you have the man-magnet trifecta: great tits, a tiny waist, and fantastic legs. You’re smart and nice, too. I’d hate you if I didn’t love you so much.”

  “If I’m such a man magnet, how come you’re the one always having orgasmic sex with super-hot guys?” I’m definitely not.

  “Because I’m looking for a human vibrator, not a husband.” She scowls. “Eric doesn’t deserve you. He never puts you first, even in the orgasm department.”

  Jen hates my boyfriend…but she’s not wrong. Eric and I have been together since our junior year in high school. I fell hard and fast, convinced he was “the one.” But lately, he’s seemed distant. When he looks at me, I’d swear he’s looking through me. We’d planned to get engaged after my graduation. But weeks have passed since I received my degree, and Eric hasn’t popped the question. I’m wondering if he even wants us anymore. I don’t know what to do.

  But tonight is about a party. Nothing that happens at the Force Financial holiday bash will decide my future.

  I stare at myself in the mirror. “Are you sure about this dress? It’s awfully short.”

  “It’s festive,” she corrects.

  “This one-shoulder neckline exposes so much of me that I can’t wear a bra.”

  “You’re fine. Your girls are perky. And hey, maybe you’ll finally attract someone who can get you off.”

  “I still have a boyfriend.”

  “This dress could help you change that.”

  “It’s my office Christmas party!”

  She shrugs. “Bonus. Whoever you hook up with can’t ghost you.”

  “Jen!”

  “Fine.” She sighs. “Tell me again why dipshit couldn’t go with you.”

  Eric doesn’t do “office” things, even parties. As a trust-fund kid, he only has to pick out his next fancy car and play X-Box. He has no real responsibility. But he’s otherwise decent…most of the time. “Don’t start. Please.”

  “I swear I saw him at Murphy’s last weekend with your neighbor.”

  Mariah? Not possible. “He was in Florida with his buddies. He even sent me a group picture from Universal Studios.”

  She glares skeptically. “If you say so.”

  Eric isn’t perfect. I know he needs to mature some. But I wouldn’t cheat on him. Besides, if
we split up now, I don’t have anywhere to live. Until I get my first paycheck, I won’t have the money for a place of my own.

  “Can we focus? I’m not trying to attract a new boyfriend at this party, especially since I’ve only worked for Force Financial for two weeks. I want to send the right message. I’m professional. I’m dependable.” I wince. “I should wear the black dress.”

  Jen blocks the closet door before I can reach for it. “You shouldn’t. It says boring. It says you’ve given up on yourself. It says you’ve only ever had missionary-style sex, none of which is true, right?”

  I blush. Jen would be horrified if I was honest. “Of course.”

  “What about your mysterious boss?”

  “I’m not trying to hook up with him, either. He’s married.” Or at least he was when I met him a decade ago.

  “I meant are you finally meeting Nathan Price tonight?”

  “Technically, we already met.”

  Jen rolls her eyes. “When you were a kid doesn’t count.”

  “Why not?” After graduation, I figured it couldn’t hurt to apply for a job at the swanky financial firm he works for. I don’t remember him much, except that, at thirteen, I thought he was hot. And way nicer than his standoffish wife.

  “Why aren’t he and your dad business partners anymore?”

  “I don’t know.” Most of my dad’s life, especially his current whereabouts, are a mystery. “But I doubt Mr. Price will be at the party tonight. The big business emergency in Hawaii, whatever it was, got resolved. Still, if you could spend an extra weekend in paradise and avoid the Boston winter—along with the office Christmas party—wouldn’t you?”

  “So he’s out until Monday. Got it.” She bumps my shoulder. “That means you can relax and enjoy yourself.”

  “I hardly know anyone, so I doubt I’ll stay long.” Really, I should cut the evening short and spend some time with Eric. Since graduation, I’ve been busy finding a job so I can start paying off my student loans. I’ve barely spent time with him. Maybe that’s the cause of the rift I sense between us.

  “Does the party have an open bar?”

  “Yeah, but⁠—”

  “Live a little, girl!” She lifts my arms wide and gives me a once-over. “You look great. The fuck-me shoes totally make the outfit.”

  They’ll last fifteen minutes. I keep a pair of black flats at my desk. They’ll be perfect for blending in. “Thanks.”

  “Here.” She shoves a little gold purse in my grasp. “Have a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Call me tomorrow. I love you.”

  I’ll probably be home by ten. “I love you, too.”

  After a hug from Jen and a meow from her cat, Dude, I’m out the door and in my car.

  The truth is, I don’t love this time of year. A decade ago, Dad left Mom and me just before the holidays. Five years later, when I was barely eighteen, Mom died. I spent that Christmas alone sobbing in the funeral home. Those were the darkest days of my life. I went to college because she wanted me to. Dad and I still have a strained relationship, but he helped financially—until last year when he basically disappeared. I’ve looked everywhere for him, even broke into his last known address. Nothing.

  Who gets ghosted by their own father?

  After I start the car, I glance in the rearview mirror. This dress would look more elegant—and less boobalicious—if I had something to distract from my cleavage. The clock tells me I have ten spare minutes to run home and grab my mother’s pendant. Yes, it’s a fourteen-carat-gold security blanket, but it would make me feel better.

  A few minutes later, I dash through snow flurries from the parking lot to the front door of our apartment overlooking the water. Despite the fact Jen would frown at me throwing a coat over her slutastic dress, since I’m here I’ll grab one of those, too.

  When I open the door, light from inside floods the elegant stoop. Instead of an empty pizza box and a loud video game, I’m greeted by a sexy R-and-B tune drifting from the back of our apartment.

  I tiptoe down the hall, toward the bedroom with a frown. The song ends. In the silence before another begins, I hear the shower running.

  He finally decided to get clean after two days of BO…

  My first clue that something’s wrong is the bra strewn across the threshold of our bedroom. Since all my lingerie is practical, I know the red-lace underwire number isn’t mine. Neither is the accompanying thong next to our bed.

  Eric is cheating on me. The realization hits me like an anvil.

  I go cold all over. The bottom falls out of my stomach.

  God, is this really happening?

  Our mussed bed and the discarded condom wrapper on my nightstand tell me it is.

  Holy cow. Holy. Cow.

  He is cheating on me. That bastard!

  “Oh, fuck, yeah, babe…” Eric moans.

  Babe. That’s what he calls me, too.

  Why does that make the betrayal somehow worse?

  “That’s it. Use that tongue to get my cock nice and clean so I can get it all dirty in your pussy again.”

  “You’re sure we’ll have time?” a woman asks.

  “Yeah. Izzy will be at this boring-as-fuck party until at least ten.”

  She laughs. “Do you think she has any idea?”

  “Nah. I’ve got her fooled. I even photoshopped myself into a pic all the guys took last weekend in Orlando. She’s too gullible to figure it out.”

  No, I’m too trusting. I knew something was off.

  God, I feel as if Eric slapped me. I’m humiliated. Embarrassed. Furious.

  And I’m done.

  I stomp over to the shower curtain and yank it wide, stepping back to avoid the spray, and take in the sight of my boyfriend of nearly two years standing with his back to the water and our neighbor on her knees with his softening dick in her mouth. “No need for her to rush out. I won’t be coming home tonight. Or ever. It’s over, Eric.”

  He pushes back from the brunette with mascara running down her face and darts out of the shower after me.

  I step over the skank’s underwear and sprint down the hall, only to find Eric chasing me as he wraps a towel around his naked ass. “C’mon, babe. Wait. We should… Fuck, I don’t know. Talk about this.”

  “Talk?” I toss over my shoulder without slowing down. “What is there to say? You’d rather sleep with Marcella⁠—”

  “Mariah,” he corrects.

  I know. “I don’t care.”

  Out the front door, I rush down the stairs and head for my car.

  He follows. “Fuck, would you just come back inside? It’s freezing.” He shivers, ignoring the side-eye from a guy walking his dog. “You can’t just leave.”

  “I can. I am. I’ll get my things later.”

  And the fact I’m not devastated should tell me something. Right now, I’m too mad to figure it out.

  “If you get in that car and drive away, don’t expect to come back.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it. You and Marina deserve each other.”

  “Mariah.”

  “I still don’t care.” I turn to face him. He’s stomping his foot like an agitated kid who isn’t getting his way. “Someday, I hope she cheats on you so you can see exactly how this feels.”

  “Ah, come on. What she and I did…it didn’t mean anything.”

  “If you think that, then you and I didn’t mean anything, either. Jen was right⁠—”

  “That bitch fills your head with stupid ideas.”

  “Well, she told me I could do better, and I should have listened sooner. Know what else she told me? To go out tonight, have fun, and let some hot stranger blow my doors off since you never have. This time, I plan to take her advice. The next back I dig my nails into won’t be yours. Buh-bye.”