In Bed With Her Shithead Boss (By Ellie Wynters) novel Chapter 159

Her brain was frying itself. He's a man, right? Men get hard over anything and everything. A stiff breeze. A suggestive text. With Alexei, even a fly landing in the right spot. So, it means nothing. Right?

The way he was looking at her... that didn't feel like nothing.

He had never made a move on her before… True, the invisible sign that appeared above her head with "Back Off" written on it might have something to do with it… She had never seen it, but both her sisters had told her it often appeared high, bright and in flashing neon. It didn't really, but it was the vibe she gave off. It was a standing joke in their family.

But their cousin Laura was totally the opposite; she was a lifelong member of Sluts Are Us.

"Alexei," she whispered, not sure if she was warning him or asking for something she couldn't name.

He drew in a sharp breath at the sound of his name on her lips. His hand tightened on her waist, drawing her infinitesimally closer.

"We should stop," she said, but made no move to pull away.

"Yes," he agreed, his voice rough. "We should."

Neither of them stopped dancing.

Around them, the music continued, people were oblivious to the silent battle taking place on the dance floor. Keira felt caught in a current, pulled toward something both terrifying and inevitable. This was not safe.

She'd set professional boundaries with Alexei. But those boundaries had never accounted for this. For the way her body responded to his touch, for the electricity that sparked between them when his gaze met hers.

"The song's ending," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

Reality crashed back in. Keira stepped back slightly, breaking the spell. "Good. I need a drink. A stiff one. Make it a bucket."

His lips curved into a knowing smile. "Running away, Warner?"

"Tactical retreat," she corrected, smoothing down her dress with hands that weren't entirely steady. She just couldn't look at him. "There's a difference."

"Is there?" He offered his arm again, the perfect prince once more. "Let me escort you to the bar, then."

She hesitated, then placed her hand on his arm, careful to maintain distance between their bodies. She had, from very early on, called him Alexei, but by using his title now, she was reminding herself they couldn't do this.

As they moved through the crowd, Keira tried to ignore the lingering heat in her veins, the memory of his arousal against her, the dangerous way her body had responded to his touch.

This was exactly why boundaries existed. Why lines shouldn't be crossed. She'd come to the gala as his assistant, nothing more. There was no way she was going to end up in his bed. No matter how much he fried her brain cells.

Alexei walked Keira to the bar. She ordered a whiskey neat, knocking it back in one swift motion while he watched with a raised eyebrow.

"Another," she told the bartender, avoiding Alexei's gaze.

Alexei leaned against the bar, getting into her line of sight, studying her with those penetrating eyes. The air between them crackled with unresolved tension.

"About what happened on the dance floor—" he began.

"Nothing happened on the dance floor," Keira cut him off. "Just some... biological reaction. Happens to the best of us. Even princes, apparently."

"You felt it too."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Look, I get it. You're a man. Men are basically walking hormones. No big deal."

"I wasn't just talking about that."

She had felt a pull towards him, but she wasn't going to admit that. "All I felt," she said carefully, "was a biological reaction. Your body pressed against mine, and you got hard. It happens. I'm not special."

His jaw tightened. "That's not what this is."

"It's fine, really." Her words rushed out too quickly. "Just don't make it weird. Monday morning, we go back to normal. You being all princely and demanding, me telling you when you're being an ass. Simple."

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