"Oh, no, Sierra, I think you've had enough alcohol for one night," my best friend, Athena, yells over the loud music, taking my freshly ordered whiskey away from me.

"I'm twenty-four, I think I can handle it," I say, attempting to get my glass back. Of course that doesn't work out the way I planned to.

Instead of reaching up to get my glass from her hands, I tip backwards, tumbling right into the embrace of a pretty good smelling guy. He has strong arms, ones I will continue to think of even hours later.

"I'm sorry." I apologise without even looking at the kind guy that so happened to catch me before this would have gotten embarrassing. Whoever he is, he is one of my colleagues, and it is bad enough that he will remember me as the woman that fell right into his arms at a work-party.

I haven't been working at Storm's Holdings Inc. long enough to recognise all the employees yet, and I'm glad about that now. Imagine if I had to walk up to Mr. life-saver tomorrow, knowing he caught me before my klutz-self kissed the floor hello... that would be totally embarrassing.

"Ms. Bloom, you should watch your alcohol intake," a deep voice speaks just when I'm about to run for an exit. I freeze. Whoever the man standing right behind me is, he sure has a deep and intimidating voice. And he knows me. Dammit. "You have a meeting to attend to, tomorrow morning at eight."

"Oh, my God," Athena mouths at me then presses her lips together. Her eyes are wide with horror, and I'm pretty sure if she had a gun with her right now, she would end me.

I squint my eyes, pressing them as close shut as possible. I turn to face the mysterious voice, praying it doesn't belong to the person I think it does.

"Mr. Storm." I'm sure my voice is barely audible over the music, and even if it was, I don't think I sounded it out. Perhaps I just mouthed his name. "I sincerely apologise for the inconvenient fall. I should have landed on the floor."

He grunts, I think. If he did, I didn't hear it, but he didn't speak either. All Mr. Storm does is turn and walk away like I've never fallen into his arms. He doesn't even so much to acknowledge my apology.

Well, I guess I'll be waiting for my termination papers then. There is no way Mr. Storm will keep me as his employee after what just happened.

The only other talk we've ever had was for my interview... and he didn't even interview me himself. No, he sent Athena. At some point he walked into the room, didn't even say hello, asked Athena if I'm good enough for his team and when she said yes, he nodded and left.

I'm pretty sure Athena only said yes because she's known me all her life, but who even cares? I have a job (as of now), I can pay my bills, I even have some money left for food, that's enough for me to be happy.

"You're so fired," Athena says when I'm in her arms instead of my boss's.

I groan but nod. I sure am.

"One more reason for us to enjoy this night. Let's go dancing," she yells, trying to pull me onto the dance-floor.

I shake my head. My feet are killing me. I've been wearing those heels for hours. If it weren't for Athena, I would have shown up to this party wearing leggings and a blouse. But no, Athena insisted on me dressing up. Now I'm stuck in one of her silky dresses and heels that feel like someone's using a butterknife to cut off my feet.

And besides, after my encounter with my boss, I'd much rather get back to my hotel room and cry for the rest of the night.

As far as I'm concerned, Mr. Storm, as his name gives it away, is a cloudy man. He is grumpy. He never smiles, ever. He has a harsh tone going on whenever he speaks to his employees, or anyone for that matter. And I'm pretty sure no one even knows his first name.

I also think no one ever really sees him in person. He's always in his office. The only person he talks to regularly is his assistant, aka Athena. She's also the only person he doesn't bark at, not at all times, at least.

I suppose he has a little more respect for the woman that basically runs his office.

"Sierra, get your ass on the dance-floor. We need to get you laid before you end up as grumpy as sir boss himself," Athena kindly lets me know. She has a point, I've been getting quite tense lately. Releasing some endorphins will—hopefully—be a relief for my stress.

Or not. But even then, it couldn't be bad... okay it could be, if the guy is bad in bed. Man, I have to stop thinking every guy has a one-inch dick and can't get a woman off.

"Fine." I give in. Dancing, even though my feet hurt like hell, still sounds better than bawling my eyes out over most definitely losing my job.

So I let Athena drag me through the ridiculously huge mass of people, right to the dance-floor. And because I've sobered up thanks to Mr. Storm, I even get to drink a couple more Piña Coladas.

I'm pretty sure an hour passes until I start to feel dizzy, and quite sweaty. And on top of that, my feet are now officially useless for the next two weeks.

I lean in to Athena, who happens to have her tongue stuck in some guy's throat. My eyebrows draw together. Something is off, but my brain can't process what the hell is happening. So instead I settle on ignoring my gut feeling. "I'm leaving." She just holds up her thumb, but at least she acknowledges me.

When I stare at them both a little while longer, I eventually shrug it off. Maybe it's not too far off that my best friend, who's engaged to my brother, mind you, has her tongue shoved down a blonde guy's throat.

Making my way out of the far too big ball room this hotel offers turns out to be more difficult than expected. Although it's after twelve, more than half of my colleagues are still here, dancing and getting drunk. God, Mr. Storm will bust all of their asses when they don't show up in less than six hours to our meeting.

Whoever decided to schedule a meeting at eight in the morning, right after a party, should honestly get fired. How cruel can one be?

Or maybe this was all Mr. Storm's doing. He certainly seems like the guy that does cruel things. Like... torment his employees to make sure only the good ones stay within his company. It's smart, but also not really.

When I finally exit the room and stand in the hallway, trying to find my way to the lobby to get upstairs into my room, I feel a hand placing down on my shoulder. It's a male hand, that much I can tell without having to look for confirmation.

The grip is strong, and the hand feels way too big for a woman, that's how I can tell. And the perfume hitting my nostrils.

"Whoever you are, please leave me alone," I say, closing my eyes. My brother taught me one thing about men, that being, if one ever touches me, I shall keep my cool and not freak out. If I keep a cool head, I will be better at handling the situation.

Not that I'm expecting anything bad to happen right now. But you know, men these days are... unpredictable.

My legs begin to shake as the hand doesn't leave my body. I'm about to elbow the guy in his guts when he speaks, "Sierra."

My name rolling over the guy's tongue sounds so... sexy. God, I can't believe I just thought that. Obviously it's been way too long since I've gotten laid, doesn't mean I should jump at the next possible opportunity.

"I am wearing heels, ones that can probably sting through skin. If you don't want holes in your body, I'd recommend taking a couple of steps back," I warn. I'm pretty sure my heels would break before they'd ever sting through any living being, but that doesn't matter right now.

Instead of leaving my body, the hand slides down, resting right over the small of my back.

"Sierra," he repeats, sounding breathy this time. "You smell good."

"Thank you?" Seriously, what the fuck? But hell, even though this situation is completely weirding me out, the depth of his voice sends shivers down my spine.

I can feel him coming closer, wrapping an arm around my waist. His nose strokes along my neck, up to my temple. Then suddenly, I can feel lips pressing against my skin, kissing me ever so softly.

"I've been fantasising about you for far too long."

Oh, okay.

"Help me get you out of my system," he speaks, his voice raspy, hoarse.

My head is spinning, the background fading into nothing but a big blur. Colours change, but I don't know why, everything around me seems far too unreal. If this is a dream, please wake me up because I do not even like men. Well, I do, but I fear them anyway.

Truthfully, I'm not even so sure if the man really said those words, or if these are made up by my mind because, hell, alcohol makes me kind of horny.

And suddenly his voice clicks in my head. "Mr. Storm," I breathe out. Yeah, I totally imagined what he said. There is no way Mr. Storm would ever say those to an employee.

His lips glide along my neck, kissing up and down. The hand that's not holding me by my waist comes up to my shoulder, one finger sliding beneath the strap of my dress.

"Help me out, Ms. Bloom."

Isn't there some kind of rule that forbids boss-employee relationships? I'm pretty sure Mr. Storm himself put it up, so what the hell is he doing?

He might very well be just as drunk as you.

"I can't," I say and move away from him. To my surprise, he doesn't try to keep me in his embrace. "I'd like to keep my job."

My back hits the wall on the opposite side of Mr. Storm, bringing much needed space between the two of us.

Mr. Storm takes a step towards me. His expression doesn't give anything away. Not amusement, not even the usual grumpiness he carries with him at all times. He just looks... blank. As if he doesn't feel any sort of emotion at all.

"You'd keep your job, Ms. Bloom." Yes, definitely drunk.

"No, I wouldn't." My voice is shaky, fearing the man that could ruin my whole life the second I get fired. When I lose my job, I most definitely have to move back home, and I can't be assed doing that. "You would have my termination ready by tomorrow morning. You'd probably even hand it to me on a silver platter."

"I have it done already."

I'm pretty sure that all of the colour on my face just went down the drain. I must be as white as a ghost.

"What?"

"Let's talk about this somewhere more private," he suggests. I suppose that's the better thing to do. Talk about my fired-ass somewhere private, somewhere that is not in front of a room filled with my fellow colleagues.

I nod and follow my boss wherever he takes me. If I wasn't drunk, I'm sure I would've been smarter, not so naïve. But I am drunk, and stupid, apparently.

We stop in front of a hotel room (obvs). He holds his hand out for mine, and as stupid as I am, I reach out and lay mine into his. Mr. Storm unlocks the room and pulls me inside.

Holy McChicken Nuggets. I am in a suite. A pretty huge, super fancy looking suite. I'm sure the door handle alone costs more than what I make monthly.

"Ms. Bloom," Mr. Storm says, leading me deeper inside.

"This doesn't seem appropriate at all, Mr. Storm."

For the first time, I allow myself to look him up and down. He is handsome, really painfully handsome. And the only thing I see as the entire room seems to be nothing but one big blur.

Mr. Storm always wears a suit, and this stupid suit fits him so perfectly well. He looks like he's muscular, with abs and all that. Can't confirm, but he just looks like that. His hands are big, and I'm sure if he wrapped them around- Stop this, Sierra. God. He is your boss.

This ass also has a pretty defined jawline. I hate him. Simply because he appears to be perfect. And he is rich. Ridiculously rich. He paid for all of his employee's stay here, and I'm sure he doesn't even see a dent in his bank account. Lucky bastard.

"It's just one night, Sierra," he speaks, his voice even deeper now. God, the things his voice alone does to me. I can feel the vibration from his voice travel down, right between my legs, to the point where I have to press my thighs together.

How can this one man be so effortlessly attractive... and he is totally off-limits. That's just unfair.

"Sir, we're here to discuss you firing me," I force myself to remind him. I really need to get out of here before I do something stupid.

Mr. Storm walks closer to me, so close his body comes in contact with mine. He holds me by my waist, pressing his hips against me. I can feel his erection press to my stomach, and holy hell, this is a really, really bad idea.

"Being attracted to my employee should get me fired."

"Well, I doubt you can get fired, unless you retire or something." I'm sure there are other ways, but my brain is incapable of thinking about some right now.

"Sierra, you're not getting fired, not yet anyway."

I gulp. What is that supposed to mean? Not yet.

"Sir, please, this is highly inappropriate."

Again, Mr. Storm strokes his nose along my neck, breathing me in. He plants kisses along my skin, some harder, some softer. His fingertips dig into my waist, pulling me a bit closer against his body.

"You need to leave, Ms. Bloom. Otherwise this will end with me inside of you."

It's tempting. Way too tempting. The man, the very same that doesn't so much as look at any of his employees, is kissing my neck, my cleavage. He is talking to me in any tone but the usual grumpy one. Though, he still doesn't sound all too nice.

I really should go. It's the mature, and appropriate thing to do. I should leave this room and avoid this man for the rest of my life. But something holds me back. Something, probably the alcohol in my system, tells me it's just one night.

I will get fired no matter what. Might as well end it with finding out if the grumpy, asshole boss of mine is good in bed.

"Last chance, Sierra." He looks into my eyes, probably for the very first time. He's got brown eyes, and they tell a million stories when he looks at me. Unfortunately, I hold no key to unlock those stories.

His hands loosen, giving me an obvious way out. And I can't believe I hate that he loosens his grip.

Instead of doing what I know deep down would be the best thing to do, I place my hands on his jawline, pulling the man I know absolutely nothing of, down to my face, and press my lips to his.

-♡-

My head is pounding. I definitely drank too much last night. I'm twenty-four, I should know my limits by now. Apparently, I don't.

And quite frankly, I don't even recall what happened last night. Everything after me falling into my boss's arms is completely black. I don't even remember how I found my way back into my hotel room.

I stretch on the way too cozy appearing bed. I reach over to grab my phone from the nightstand, slowly opening my eyes.

It's 7:40 a.m. Holy shit. My meeting starts in twenty minutes.

Jumping off the bed, I struggle to find the bathroom for a minute until I notice something. Something that turns my stomach upside down.

I am not in my hotel room.

And I am not wearing any clothes.

When I turn towards the bed, I'm mortified to find Mr. Storm lying on his stomach... buck naked.

Shit. This is not good at all.

What the hell happened last night? How the hell did I land in my boss's bed?

It doesn't matter anymore, I suppose. Because I am standing here, in his hotel room, blinking while barely breathing, staring at a man that hates everyone but himself.