Boss Undercover: Part 1 (Boss Undercover Series) Read online

  “I see your eyes,” he said through clenched teeth, midway of lifting the bar up again.

  “No, you don’t.” Then she diverted her eyes elsewhere, tempting herself into a playful mood. “Ooooh, look at that fella over there,” she whispered.

  “What?” He dropped the bar on the ledges and sat up. “Who?”

  “Packs a lot of muscle. I wonder what else,” she coyly suggested, observing Zack’s face through the corner of her eye.

  “Him?” He frowned. “You’re kidding. You’re into body builders?”

  The hefty man was lifting weights, ear plugs in, and probably fetishizing about himself and the weights, judging from the affectionate admiration of himself in the opposite wall-sized mirror. There was a lot of muscle. The man looked like the incredible hunk. Of course, that was way too much for her to even consider. He’d probably squash her in bed.

  “Oh, yes. I do have a type, you know? Tons of muscular—”

  She paused as she observed Zack discreetly checking himself out, scaling the size of himself in muscular mass to the other man.

  “Oh, your face!” she laughed.

  Zack scowled. “Not funny.”

  ***

  ZACK

  Zack’s brows knitted as she walked off towards the exercise bikes that sat ahead in the middle of the space. He could swear he was becoming more possessive by the minute. Not only was he jealous, but he was near to throwing a punch or two if need be. For goodness sake, he thought, what was seriously going on with that mind of his?

  Claire cycled a little faster as soon as he came over. He moved to the front of the bike, resting his arms onto the handles, hindering Claire’s ability to rest her hands on them properly.

  “What do you want now?” She sighed.

  “I’ve come to bug you. What else does it look like?” he mumbled, resting his chin into the groove of his folded arms. “So change of plan. I’m kind of self-conscious now, and due to your recent comment, I feel out of place and prefer if we went back home.”

  “Aw,” Claire cooed. “Does Zacky feel hurt that he won’t be as strong as those beefy men? Hm?”

  “Yeah, maybe you could kiss me better?”

  Funny how things changed between them like a turtle on steroids. It didn’t seem to matter how much she tried to distance herself or try to tell herself she wasn’t interested in Zack; she was a hypocrite. Maybe she just liked his attention? Maybe she wasn’t really interested? She begged for anything than confessing otherwise.

  “Fat chance. Now move on. I’m actually enjoying myself right now.”

  Zack pouted. “No kiss?”

  “No!” she spat.

  He shrugged his shoulders, moving off the bike. “Fine. I’ll be over in the corner cowardly crying.”

  “Yeah, you do that,” Claire said.

  Her stomach stopped fluttering as soon as he left, as did the wild spastic shivers down her back. If there was one thing she greatly despised, it was Zack's ability to affect her like that. She wondered with curiosity how this attraction would disappear.

  Less than twenty minutes later, and when she had the courage to look over to Zack, who was still working on his legs, she was about to give up until a stranger appeared at her side. Usually she was okay with confrontation, but the way he leered at her, it suddenly gave her the utter creeps.

  “Can I help you?” she asked as she got off the seat.

  “You sure can. How about you give me your number?” the man said, ogling inappropriately at her cleavage and then back up to her face.

  Claire shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said so. Now excuse me,” she replied politely, wanting him to move so she could get past. He hung his arm loosely on the bike’s handle, grinning with triumph. From the corner of her eye, and the fact the man kept briefly chuckling back towards his friends in the corner of the room, she suspected this was a game of some sort to them.

  “Would you move? I’ve asked you politely, now I’m getting pissed—so move,” she snapped, careful to keep her voice down so she wouldn’t bring too much attention towards the matter.

  “I’ll move if you give me your number, baby girl,” the man replied, again grinning ear to ear and only further being motivated by the chorus of laughter behind him.

  “Move it before I fucking punch you in the face, dickhead,” she hissed, her right hand balling into a fist. The man held his hands up, chuckling in defence as if suspecting slight truth in the statement—which to be honest, Claire did mean it.

  “Move.”

  Taking not another chance, the man laughed nervously. “Chill. I was kidding. I’m going. I’m going.” Then he quickly scuttled off back towards his group of friends, leaving both Claire and who she suspected butted in, Zack, alone.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, picking up her water bottle from the holder. “Although I was handling it.”

  Zack followed Claire towards the exit. “It sure looked like it.”

  “I was!” she objected. “I could have handled myself.”

  Zack sighed as he held the glass door open for her. “Claire, stop being so proud and just accept I helped you out there.”

  She sighed. “Fine…thank you, again.”

  A short escape of breath fled her lips as Zack clasped her arm, pushing her lightly towards a wall. Was it happening again? She expected him to meet her lips—instead, he tenderly kissed her right cheek.

  “Is that a pout I see?” he muttered, pulling gently back.

  Claire blushed as she denied it, laughing. “Shut up. Go eat a dick.”

  How more irresistible can he get? she thought, watching as he wetted his bottom lip with a flicker of his tongue. “Let’s be honest here, Claire…we all know that isn’t what you had in mind.”

  Claire coyly rolled her head to the side and intentionally began walking her fingers up his torso, stopping at the top of his tank top.

  ***

  ZACK

  Zack’s train of thought halted, eagerly anticipating what was to come next. With no hesitation, Claire brought her hands to either side of his face, observing how his eyes quivered with exuberance. Leaning in slowly, Zack’s insides clenched further with excitement, just like fireworks being setting off inside his stomach. Her lips were inches away from his own, yet remained stationary, allowing her to take control. Without warning, rather than joining lips, Zack felt the hot movement of her tongue gliding up his left cheek.

  “Did you just lick my cheek?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You…sly little fox,” he said with a grin.

  She was such a hypocrite. Don’t like the guy? Not even a bit?

  Chapter Fifteen

  CLAIRE

  Claire grinned at the unquestionable hunger dilating her pupils at the sight of the chicken nugget approaching her lips. Her stomach had been agreeably growling for the last five minutes, waiting for the arrival of crispy battered chicken. But no more could she wait. The familiar aroma chased through her nostrils, teasing her as if she were a dog salivating on command. Gradually, she opened her mouth, guiding the chicken in until abruptly it was snatched away.

  “Hey!” Claire yelled angrily, throwing both hands out.

  ***

  ZACK

  Zack roared with laughter, relishing the supreme control he had upon Claire to switch her temper on just like a ticking bomb. He took time to chew the chicken nugget, knowing he was irritating Claire further, and she responded predictably with a gasp.

  ***

  CLAIRE

  “You’re a fat motherfucker!” she hissed, folding her arms in fury. Seeing the satisfaction on his lips had totally affected her appetite—annoyed with his deliberate action to take first bite, Claire did not feel like eating at all.

  Claire felt guilty enough when reluctantly agreeing to order the chicken combo at a fast-food restaurant. They’d just been to the gym. Her stomach growled, it growled towards the imbecile that Claire
was, for allowing Zack to put her off—so with a quick swipe, she took a chicken nugget from the centre of the table and plopped it in her mouth, knowing she did not want to sacrifice her hunger for him.

  “I can’t believe I’ve just wasted burning calories for this,” she said, “but it was so worth it.”

  “So, how was your friend, anyway?” he asked, changing topics.

  “She was fine. Although I’m glad she’s gone, because I didn’t want you to endanger her,” she replied, shovelling a handful of fries onto her plate.

  Zack frowned lightly. “What did I do?”

  “What don’t you do?” She rolled her eyes.

  There was knock on the front door. Claire got up.

  “It seems so much effort to walk. Can’t you answer it?” she pleaded.

  “You’re up. You’ve pretty much made it already.”

  Claire sighed, narrowing her eyes at him before making her way out of the kitchen towards the front door. She was certain she wasn’t expecting anyone, and there were no services coming out like the plumber, so she had not a clue who it was. It wouldn’t be Abbey again. Nor would it be Darren, who couldn’t even remember what number she lived at. Was it someone Zack knew, or just some door-to-door salesman looking to flog off cheap products?

  She tightened her ponytail before opening the door. She was full of frustration when instantly she was taken aback by Jason standing there with a small bouquet of mixed flowers. “You didn’t forget, did you?” Jason joked half-heartedly, raising his right eyebrow up.

  “Claire!” Zack yelled from the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?”

  She pressed her lips briefly together before shouting back in an uncomfortable manner, “J-Just…shut up for one moment. I’ll be—” Before shutting up herself, she gaped again at Jason, who stood patiently waiting to be invited in.

  “I…went to the gym.”

  “So I see. You agreed on Friday that I was taking you out at seven?”

  “I did?” she whispered softly, utterly trying her hardest to recall that part of the day, but everything seemed to revolve around Zack. “Oh, wait!” she blurted out. “I did! I mean, of course I did.” She felt so embarrassed—both on his behalf and her own. How stupid could she have been? “Shoot…I mean…I just got back. There was—lots of traffic,” she added, hoping Jason would buy her lame lie. But come on! It didn’t sound legit at all, even as she said it.

  Jason nodded slowly. “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll just wait.” He was clearly referring to the living room that sat behind Claire with its sturdy couch and plush cushions.

  His polished shoe was inches away from entering when she exclaimed. “No—I mean.” She paused to settle her alarmed tone. “Wouldn’t it be better if you waited in the car? I’ll come out to you.”

  “Well, these are for you,” he said, giving her the flowers.

  Claire smiled lightly. “Thank you. They’re lovely.”

  So, was she still going along with this lie? Actually making him believe she’s interested just to be stubborn? The evidence was clearly there. She was clearly attracted to Zack. No, she told herself. But what about Jason? She didn’t fancy him at all.

  He stood there for perhaps a second or two, and so did she, uncomfortable with the silence that came after. She was relieved when he turned on the sole of his foot and headed down the corridor. If she felt any sense of achievement, it didn’t last very long, as she realised she now had to go along with the date.

  Closing the door, she placed the flowers onto the side table, cautious. She wasn’t sure she wanted Zack to see them as she headed back into the kitchen. With some revelation, Zack was washing up this morning’s plates and cutlery—something she never expected to see.

  “Wow, you’re actually doing something to help out?” Claire said, gobsmacked, forgetting her main priority for a moment.

  “Yes. Aren’t I just handy? Such a husband,” he joked, placing a wet dish onto the side. “So did you tell me to shut up because that was your delivery of porn magazines or something?” Zack teased.

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah, totally.”

  “Oh, so it was. I totally understand that you’re feeling a little inexperienced in my presence.”

  Claire sighed. “Really?”

  “Okay, okay. So, who was it then, really?” Zack asked as he dried his hands upon the teal tea towel left on the side counter. Claire hesitated for a second, debating whether to share the truth or brew up a little lie.

  “It was Jason,” she exhaled. His brows lifted, then fell, but he did not come up with any snarky comments.

  “What did he want, or should I say, what does he want?” he muttered, slightly unusual for Zack.

  “You know, from Friday—he messaged me,” Claire replied, her feet shuffling uncomfortably.

  “Oh.”

  Claire gulped. “S-So—I’m gonna go get changed then. You can still watch a film or TV programme without me. I’ll probably be back by nine o’clock.”

  “Okay.”

  ***

  The date wasn’t out of the ordinary—a classic meal between two people, a few shared tales and jokes around the table before splitting the bill. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep it all up, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She was finding it utterly stupid. What did she have to prove? If she was trying to prove to Zack that she wasn’t interested, she was failing. Any idiot could see she was attracted to the man. And here she was, stringing on some poor fella, someone she’d considered a friend, who liked her more than enough for a second date. Claire should stop this before it got all out of hand. Like, really? Would she be pretending till they got married, had a child, a house and dog called Rufus? This wasn’t right. It was pulling someone down for her own selfish sake.

  Jason switched off the engine. He’d just driven them from an Italian restaurant, and now the awkward silence enveloped them. He probably saw it as being bashful, but to Claire, it was a decision between life and death. As dramatic as that sounded, she really did have the opportunity now to set things straight, make Jason aware she wasn’t interested, and apologize for leading him on like that. That was the right thing to do. The other alternative was to lie, pretend, and make the guy fall more in love with her than he already was. Claire wished she had a potion, one that could wipe his entire memory of their dates.

  “I really enjoyed myself again.” He smiled sweetly, resting his hand on the centre joystick. And there was the silence, broken. It was now her turn to answer.

  What choice? Be truthful or lie? But why would she lie? It was pretty obvious to Zack. It should be pretty obvious to herself.

  “Oh, me too. It was another great catch up,” she replied, anxiously looking to her hands in her lap. Was that all? A subtle hint? Couldn’t she just tell him straight? She was looking outside now, begging herself to just get out.

  “Yeah, so, like—”

  “Erm, I’m sorry to be rude…” she interrupted. Now what, she said to herself. Just say it! Say you’re not interested, she pleaded inwardly.

  “Yes?”

  Yes, go on, Claire. Tell him. She could hear Zack prowling about in her head.

  She was an idiot. Instead of telling him the truth, she turned in the passenger’s seat, leaned over, and connected her lips with his. Somehow, she was trying to tell herself to feel. Want, need, anything, that could suggest she was interested in Jason. His soft, thin pink lips, became hungrier, greedier against hers, hers, that felt like a blank canvas being manipulated, no control, no nothing. His tongue then pushed through…it felt moist, fighting her own weak and defenceless. Claire hoped snogging him would invest some sort of emotional attachment—instead, it only cruelly led another man on for the sake of her stubbornness.

  Claire pulled back. “I have to go.”

  “I’ll see you Monday at work.” He smiled, tasting his bottom lip.

  She forced a smile as she opened the door and got out. Claire didn’t even feel she necessarily needed to wave him o
ff, so she sped a little in her strides towards the apartment door, buzzing in the code to enter. She felt disgusted with herself—this wasn’t right. Jason deserved better than a lie.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she cursed, once she was safely in her kitchen. She kicked off her high heels, pulling out the kitchen chair aggressively as she flopped her head into her hands. What was the point of the lying?

  “Someone doesn’t sound too pleased,” Zack said.

  She lifted her head from her arms.

  “So, how did it go?” he asked, insistent as he snatched the adjacent chair and sat down.

  “It was fine,” she grumbled. “Why do you care?”

  “I guess I care because I really don’t understand what you’re playing at, Claire. Do you?” he replied, sounding frustrated and a little offended.

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  “I mean, I thought I could be fucked up, but you’re really taking the biscuit,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

  “What do you want me to say, Zack?” she snapped.

  “Just what the fuck do you want? What’s my part in all of this? You’re fucking with another guy, and then you’re—I don’t even know what’s going on between us. I mean…” He got up off his chair, aggressively waving his hand about. “I could have slept with you Friday night. I wanted to. It would have been easy—”

  “Easy? Really? Now I’m easy, am I?” she cut him off.

  “I don’t mean it like that. You know what I mean,” he argued.

  “I don’t care what you mean. Just fuck you!” she shouted, getting up off the chair.

  “Fuck me? Fuck you, Claire,” he spat bitterly.

  Claire stomped out the kitchen, slamming her bedroom door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  CLAIRE