She also learned he was extremely visual, and she often found him watching her. He’d admitted to enjoying the sway of her breasts as she moved, admiring the tempting curves of her hips, and what he called her “exquisitely formed ass.” Joseph wanted her close, touching her near constantly when they were in the same room, ordering her closer with a soft, “come here,” if she wandered too far away. He delighted in posing her provocatively if he was occupied with a task, draping her over the counter in the kitchen while he cooked—something else she learned he enjoyed doing. During lunch preparations on Saturday, for example, he picked her up and plopped her bare bottom on the cold granite counter. He positioned her to his liking, leaning her back on her hands, breasts uplifted, and legs spread with her heels to her ass leaving her pussy on blatant display. He’d sliced fresh fruit, playfully placing slices of strawberry on her nipples and kiwi low on her belly. As their omelet was cooking, he’d nibbled each piece off, licking her belly and lingering over her aching tips long after any residue of flavor could have lingered.
Later that day, while he was taking a phone call in his office, he had her on his lap at his desk. Facing him, with her feet flat on the arm rests, legs splayed wide apart, he pushed her head back until it was resting on his desktop. Then the evil man had put the phone on speaker and proceeded to play with her—fingers and mouth teasing her hard nipples and playing with her clit—while she bit her tongue and tried desperately to hold back her moans. He’d told her to be prepared to surrender if she came to him on her knees that Friday and he hadn’t been joking.
As much great sex as they had, they were also incredibly intimate on a non-sexual level, snuggling and holding each other close as they talked. At one point she asked Joseph something she’d always wondered. They were lying on the couch in the aftermath of Joseph taking her against the living room wall. Brought on by the simple act of Livvy walking across the room, he’d lifted her until their hips aligned, then with her legs around his waist and her back to the wall, he’d taken her. It was carnal, spontaneous and utterly amazing.
Afterwards, as they relaxed in one another’s arms, she blurted out, “Why didn’t you ever marry?”
“I was married once, a long time ago.”
“Tell me,” she urged, propping up on an elbow.
“It was right out of law school. We were both focused on our careers more than each other and definitely didn’t jive in the bedroom. She was strictly vanilla.”
“Why on earth did you marry her?”
“Ella and I were friends, classmates, and lovers, but we were never in love. It was a huge mistake. At twenty-five, I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted other than my career. Needless to say, that came through loud and clear in a relationship. After the divorce, a friend of mine introduced me to the club scene. Dominance and submission felt instantly right to me and filled a void that previous relationships had not. After that, vanilla was a flavor I no longer enjoyed.”
“That was twenty years ago. Did you give up on marriage after that?”
“Not necessarily. I was open to it, if I found the right woman. You know as well as I how difficult that can be in the lifestyle.”
She did. She’d crashed and burned too many times.
“Do you regret not having children?”
“Not with Ella. It was a clean break, children would have made it extremely messy.”
She frowned. Not liking the sound of that at all.
Well attuned to her moods even after such a short time, Joseph nudged her elbow so she flopped back on the couch, then rose up on a forearm, cupping her cheek in his free hand. “If you’re trying to find out if I’m anti-marriage and anti-kids, Livvy, I’m not. Although this weekend has proven we have something very promising growing here, three days might be a bit early to start writing vows and hiring a decorator for the nursery.”
She balked. “Oh no, I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t, pet. Rest assured that with me, marriage and kids are still on the table, so you aren’t spinning your wheels. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.” She flushed at his ability to read her so easily. “Were you always this perceptive?”
“Hardly,” he laughed, shifting so that he was on top. “I had a beautiful submissive under my nose for three years and didn’t know it. That’s pretty clueless, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, for a while there I thought you were gay.”
His head, which had lowered to nibble along her bare shoulder, reared back in surprise. “What? Why on earth did you think that?”
“Joseph, if my skirts were any tighter I would have split a seam. When you didn’t notice or ever make a pass, I thought I wasn’t your type, or gender.”
“Damn.”
She giggled. “Didn’t you wonder why I was always getting things out of bottom drawers? I put everything down low on purpose. If you had looked, you would have found all the top ones completely empty.”
He blinked down at her. She could practically see all the times she’d stuck her bottom virtually in his face flashing before his eyes. “You imp,” he accused as his fingers danced along her ribs, grinning as she squirmed and laughed beneath his merciless tickling. When she begged him to stop, he did, kissing her hard instead.
After a moment, he raised his head, pure green sparkled down on her as a hand slipped to her backside and he palmed a cheek. “I noticed everything about this glorious ass, every shimmy, shake, and definitely every tight little skirt. Believe me.” He dipped his head to brush her lips again lightly. “I missed the submissive signs, clearly. In my fantasies you were the submissive of my dreams, but in reality, you were my efficient, straight-laced, extremely hot secretary who I didn’t want to offend with unwanted advances even when she made me rock hard every day.”
“They wouldn’t have been unwanted.”
“I know that now, Livvy, but for all that time I was blind.” His mouth kicked up on one side in a grin. “Take a memo, Miss Wright. First thing Monday morning make an appointment with my optometrist. Obviously, I need a stronger prescription.”
Chapter Nine
Unfortunately, their idyllic weekend flew by and reality returned bright and early on Monday morning. Joseph was once again nattily dressed in a suit—a lightweight tweed in blue, gray and brown over-check with coordinating blue buttons and solid trousers—his hair perfectly combed, his glasses clear and bright while she wore her usual snug skirt, silk blouse and four-inch heels. He pulled into his reserved parking space and switched off the ignition at the same time her tremulous sigh broadcast her nervousness.
“Olivia, relax.”
“Arriving in the same car and walking in together is as good as taking out a billboard at Fredericksburg Road and the 410 Loop. Everyone will know.”
“So what if they do?”
“I can hear the gossip and jokes now. It’s like the old stereotype about the boss chasing the secretary around his desk, they’ll know I was caught and surrendered in the end.”
Turning to her with a grin, his finger brushed down her cheek in a now familiar caress. “And in quite spectacular fashion, I must say.”
Blushing, she glanced away. “I’ll be crucified on the office grapevine, Joseph.”
“It will pass quickly, Livvy. Someone else will have a more scandalous and juicier tidbit of gossip in a day or two and we’ll be forgotten.”
“Would it be okay if we keep up the appearance of professionalism while at work?”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to fuck you on your desk with the door wide open, if that’s your concern.”
“Joseph!” His language she noted got rather blunt and quite kitschy when he spoke of sex. Until a few days ago, the worst she’d ever heard him utter was damn.
He leaned in to brush her lips, undeterred when she turned her head at the last moment and whispered teasingly in her ear instead. “How about I reserve all fucking for my office behind the locked door. Will that do?”
Even if this was
n’t the 1950s or the set of Mad Men, where a little office slap and tickle or being bent over the boss’s desk was the norm, women still took the hit in the reputation column with an office affair. She was serious and he was being flippant. It stung and to cover the mist of tears that threatened to become a deluge, she looked away.
His fingers caught her chin and turned her face back to him, sobering when he took in her distress. “Aw, Livvy, I’m sorry. You have valid concerns about this and I’m being crass.” His other hand came up and with both thumbs he wiped away the few tears that had already escaped. “We’ll keep things above board at the office if that’s what you want. And, despite my off color humor just now, I have no intention of flaunting it or embarrassing you. I’m not hiding our relationship, however, just the intimate details. If I want to have lunch with you or take you to a cocktail party as my date, I will. They're used to seeing us together, soon, they’ll be used to us as a couple. You can trust me on this. And, I promise, the first hint of nastiness will be nipped in the bud by me personally.”
Her hand came up to his cheek and she nodded. That he thought he had power over titillating gossip and the office rumor mill was naïve, but sweet. “I do trust you, Joseph. Thank you.”
His lips brushed hers softly. “We better go or we’ll be late. You know how the boss is on punctuality.”
She grinned when he winked. As he walked around to open her door, images of being called on the carpet by Mr. Hooks and being taken to task over his desk, filled her oversexed mind.
*****
The week flew by. With a huge class action filing imminent, the firm was busy and it was all hands on deck preparing the documents. Joseph’s schedule was hectic with court three days, new clients and an impromptu return to Ft. Worth for another deposition on Thursday. She’d been in his bed for five straight nights, but on Wednesday went home alone. By end of business the next day, she was missing him. To make matters worse, he was delayed returning. Although he’d called and let her know, she was feeling a bit neglected. By the time Friday rolled around and he returned, giving her only a small, discreet peck on the cheek in greeting, she was beginning to regret her request for professionalism in the office.
Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.
The old adage kept rattling around in her head not stopping when Joseph came out of his office early Friday afternoon on his way to court.
“Do you have those two contracts for me to look over?” he asked as he strode out, his briefcase in one hand while he straightened his tie with the other. A black and white pin dot bow tie to be exact, which contrasted perfectly with another lightweight tweed suit, in dark gray this time. He was the only man she knew who wore a bow tie, but as sexy as Joseph was, he worked it.
Distracted by his soft green-eyed gaze and warm smile, she handed him the folder with the contracts. Her vision became hazy with lust when he ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek in thanks. As her eyes followed him to the door, she noticed the long square box on the console table.
“I almost forgot. That package came for you earlier.” She motioned toward it when he glanced back. Stopping briefly, he eyed the label while saying nothing, but there was a sparkle of excitement illuminating his gaze that hadn’t been there before.
“Get us a table at the Fig Tree tonight,” he said quietly. “My mouth is watering for Sea Scallops.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said aloud, thinking that a kiss sounded better than the city’s best seafood about now.
“Make it for six o’clock. We’ll be home by nine for dessert. I missed you, pet, so be warned. You are the only sweet course I have in mind.” With a wink, he was gone.
Warmth spread through her as she imagined her body, feeding his sweet tooth tonight. Her fantasies were running wild and on the lustful side as she sat staring longingly at the empty doorway for a long time. With a deep sigh, she forced herself to get back to work. Taking her seat, her eyes scanned the files scattered across the surface of her desk. That’s when it hit her. Frantically, she rifled through several folders, pulling out several drawers, sifting through the file folders there as well. When she found the one she was looking for, she opened it and scanned the documents. Then she groaned, dropping her head on her desk with a thud.
Feeling lonely yesterday, she’d had a fleeting idea. It was silly, childish really, so she’d pushed it aside and gone back to work. But the idea kept returning along with her recurring fantasy of Joseph spanking her over her desk. Throughout the long day, it kept popping into her head at the oddest times. Frustrated, she set out to make it a reality. It hadn’t taken her more than ten minutes to switch the names of two clients on two different contracts. When she was done, she stared down at the documents, the incorrect names patently obvious and practically leaping off the type written pages.
She’d thought to force his hand, testing how he would react to such a careless error now that their relationship had changed. Knowing it was a stupid and immature game, she’d abandoned the idea and had meant to shred them, but someone had come in and distracted her. She had no intention of following through with her silly scheme.
Crap! How could she have given him the wrong file?
She picked up the phone and dialed Emma. “Got time for coffee?” she asked without a greeting when her best friend answered on the first ring. “I’ve screwed up big time and need some advice on how to minimize the damage.”
*****
Entering his client’s plea took only a few minutes and despite the busy time of day, the trip to the courthouse and back took no more than thirty, which placed him back in the office in under an hour.
Livvy’s desk was conspicuously empty when he returned. With a pile of work waiting on his desk, he got right to it, leaving his door open. A few minutes passed before he heard her in the outer office.
“Olivia, come in here, please.” He didn’t have to raise his voice or call twice, hearing her chair roll across the floor as soon as he’d asked for her. When she appeared in the doorway, he added, “Bring the package with you.”
Through the open doorway, he saw her cross the room, losing sight of her for a moment as she retrieved the box. Only a few seconds ticked by until she reappeared, stepping into his office almost hesitantly, long box in hand. He refrained from grinning, just barely, at his little imp. She knew exactly what he wanted, as if he would miss such an obvious blunder. He’d perceived her game in an instant; Livvy didn’t make those kinds of careless mistakes.
“Come in and shut the door.” As she pulled the door closed, he ordered, “Lock it.” He saw her stiffen a moment later the soft snick of the lock echoed in the quiet room. With her back to him, he heard her take a slow, steadying breath before she turned to face him. When she started to approach, he stopped her.
“Stay right there.”
She halted mid-stride, then moved back. Cheeks flushed, her hands clasped the box in a white knuckled grip that he expected would crush the box any minute. She fidgeted slightly, shifting her weight restlessly from side to side as she waited. She was the picture of a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“The contracts you gave me earlier were unacceptable, Olivia. Imagine if Sister Ernestine at St. Lady of Benedict’s got Mr. Armenture’s will leaving all his worldly possessions, not to his wife, but his three mistresses instead.”
She blanched. He wondered if she just now caught the irony of her gaffe.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself? This is quite unlike you.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Sir. I’ll have the new contracts to you in a jiffy.”
“You seem a bit tense. Is there something you aren’t telling me?” He stood and walked around to the front of his desk. Perching on the edge, he leaned back, crossing his ankles in a laidback manner. He then proceeded to remove a cloth from his jacket pocket and nonchalantly cleaned his glasses.
“Only that I’m very sorry for my carelessness and it won’t happen again.”
“Open the package for me. A special order, one I hadn’t expected to need so soon, but it seems it will come in handy today.”
She peeled off the packing tape and opened the flap. Looking inside, her face went pale and her eyes shot to him.
“Remove the contents, please, and bring it here. I’ll need to inspect each item before I use it on such a valuable possession.”
Backhanded praise, if he’d ever heard it. She frowned, as he knew she would.
“Come along, Olivia. Don’t add procrastination to your list of misdeeds today.”
She removed the items he’d selected expressly with Livvy in mind. The first a riding crop, with a wide flapper on the end. She gave it a cursory glance obviously having seen one before.
He held out his hand. “I’ll take that. What else do we have?”
Her brows gathered fiercely as she withdrew the Dragon Cane. Denser, with greater flexibility, it was less likely to fracture than other rattan canes. It also had a handle, which made for a better grip and less slippage, which could lead to injury. The idea of an unintentional mark on her fine ass was unthinkable. Palm outstretched, he silently asked for the cane as well.
“There should be one more item.”
“What in the world?” she whispered as she held up the Broom Brush, which was a modern day birching rod.
He relieved her of the implement and the box, setting the latter on the floor out of his way.
“I’ll explain while you strip.”
Visibly, she swallowed, but her fingers began working the buttons on her blouse.
“This brush, sweet Livvy, is inspired by the birch rod, a Victorian punishment tool of old, made available to us with a modern day twist. In 1870, had you made such an egregious error, I would have collected a bundle of switches and thwacked away at your naughty bottom.” He shook his head making a tsking sound. “Imagine how messy that was with the bark and broken bits flying all about as the Master flailed the inattentiveness out of his charge.”
Hooked (Decadence Nights Book 1) Page 7