BOSS_His Wealth. His Power. His Demands.

by Maggie Carpenter

  "Which is?"

  "How am I going to punish you?"

  "Punish me?"

  "Of course. You want me to, and you need me to. Right?"

  Circling her arms around his neck, she hugged him tightly and whispered,

  "Yes, please, boss."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Though still unable to look him in the eye, Colleen wasn't sorry. Her scheme had worked out wonderfully, but given he'd seen right through her from the start, she also knew it could have been an unmitigated disaster.

  "It's okay," he said softly, tilting up her chin. "Well, it's not okay, but yeah, it's okay."

  "What happens now?"

  "Right now…or in the future now?"

  "Both I guess."

  "Right now we're going upstairs and we're going to get a good night's sleep. You must be exhausted after all that plotting, not to mention the manual labor involved."

  "I am, although the manual labor part wasn't much. And the future?"

  "One day at a time. As long as those days are mostly happy, they'll turn into weeks and months, but I do have one question. How long were you planning on keeping your mischief a secret?"

  "I wasn't thinking about that at the time, but when we were at Mabel's and you invited me to stay, I felt a major pang of guilt."

  "How often have you done this sort of thing?"

  "You said you had one question, not two."

  "Stop quibbling. You're already in hot water."

  "Just personally, or professionally as well?"

  "Whatever you want to tell me."

  "When I first took over Kiss Me Cosmetics, I'd go into the expensive boutiques, buy lipstick, creams, whatever, and a couple of days later I'd take them back and complain. Once my money was refunded, I'd say something like, I wish you carried Kiss Me Cosmetics. Their products are so much better than this stuff. A week later I'd send in a sales rep. It worked almost every time. That's how I broke into the boutique market. They have such limited space it's a tough nut to crack, but in those stores I didn't have to compete with half-a-dozen big name brands."

  "Aren't you a clever girl!"

  "Thank you, but, uh, what are you going to do?"

  "About your punishment?"

  "Yes. I feel weird."

  "Didn't you say your college boyfriend spanked you?"

  "It was weird then too, but I loved it and it helped me focus. At dinner, when I said I had a favor to ask, that was it."

  "You were going to ask me to spank you?"

  "To help me focus. But that was a plan too. I thought if you took me up on it, one thing would lead to another."

  "You really are conniving."

  "But I didn't go through with it."

  "You thought about it!" he said, raising his eyebrows. "As to your punishment, I'm going to give it some thought. I have an idea or two, but rest assured, tomorrow when I leave you'll have a very tender backside."

  "I can't stand it."

  "What?"

  "Waiting. Can't you spank me now? How will I sleep?"

  "Anticipation is an important part of discipline. Don't you know that?"

  "Yes," she said breathlessly, feeling a fresh blush cross her face.

  "You are so cute. I swear I want to gobble you up."

  "Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

  "Of course you're forgiven, but you're still going over my knee."

  "Can't you do it now?"

  "We're both too tired. It's time for bed," he declared, moving her off his lap and reaching for her hand.

  "Will you hold me until I fall asleep?"

  "Colleen, I intend to hold you all night long."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  As the black van drove up the dark winding hill, Chelsea Brown stared straight ahead. Playing the role of a tarot card reader had come as easily as breathing, but she'd always had exceptional instincts. Except when it came to Scott. Following a difficult early life moving from foster home to foster home, she'd worked as a waitress and lived alone in a tiny studio apartment. He'd come into the diner almost every day, all smiles, charm, and big tips. He'd artfully seduced her and given her a sense of belonging.

  After a few idyllic months he cajoled her into helping him with a few petty crimes. Initially it had been fun, but when the crimes became more serious she wanted nothing to do with them, and she'd had serious doubts about staying with him. She'd broached the subject about moving out and moving on, but using a combination of threats and loving reassurances, he'd made it clear there was no out. They were a team. They needed each other and they were together—for good. The emotional conversation had been almost three years before, and as Scott had become increasingly possessive, Chelsea had grown to feel completely trapped.

  But now she'd wondered if maybe a way out had walked into her life.

  The card said the man's name was Frank Hunter, but aside from his phone number there was no other information. As she and Scott had shared a late night snack, then climbed into the van to drive to Tony McIntyre's house, the caring stranger was all she'd been able to think about. But her life with Scott was the devil she knew. Taking a leap of faith with a man she didn't know was truly frightening.

  "Why don't these fucking houses have their numbers showing anywhere?" Scott grunted as he slowed down.

  "I think I see something on that wall," she declared, lowering her window and shining her flashlight against the brick. "That's it."

  "Finally! Do you see a call box anywhere?"

  "No, nothing."

  "That's weird. Get out and see if you can open the gates."

  "It's raining pretty hard. Maybe we should wait until it passes."

  "You get wet every time you take a shower," he growled. "Get out and open the goddamned gate!"

  Stuffing her hair under her stretchy woolen hat, she opened the van door and hurried through the downpour. Reaching the gates, she shone her flashlight across the top of the pillars to check for security cameras. There were none, but as the beam swept over the post, she spied a black metal plate with a white button. Assuming it rang the house she ignored it and began pushing on the gates. They didn't budge. Dashing back to the van through the rain, breathless and soaking wet, she climbed back in.

  "There's a button in the post," she panted. "I guess it alerts the house. The gates wouldn't move."

  "Try the button. Maybe there's a housekeeper. If she answers tell her you have an urgent delivery."

  "But if there's someone home…"

  "I'll deal with it."

  "Please, Scott, we only do houses that are empty. I don't want anyone getting hurt."

  "Calm down. No-one's going to get hurt. This is a big house. We'll make a killing. Now get out of the van, go to the gate, and push the fucking button."

  She knew there was no arguing with him, so she climbed out, ran to the post and pressed it. To her shock the gates swung open. The van's headlights shone over her as Scott drove it forward, and as it rolled into the driveway and came to a stop, she dashed through the rain to catch up.

  "Did anyone speak, or did the gates just open?" he demanded as she clambered in.

  "They just opened. Don't you think that's strange?"

  "I don't know and I don't give a shit. We're in."

  Turning off the headlights, he drove slowly forward, and as the house came into view, so did the white Lexus parked in the motor court.

  "Shit," he muttered. "I don't like that."

  "Why?"

  "Think about it. That's not a maid's car, and if it belonged to McIntyre it wouldn't be sitting out in the rain. Because it is sitting out in the rain, it means his garage is full. Either he hasn't left and he has a visitor, or he took a limo to the airport and there's someone else in the house. Maids are easy, but like I said, that pricey car doesn't belong to a fucking maid."

  "Scott. The second floor. A light just went on."

  "They won't be able to see us. The van's black and it's pissing down. Get a pen and paper from the glove box and write d
own the license plate of that SUV."

  "I can't see it."

  "Then I suggest you get closer."

  "You mean, get out and go over to it?"

  "No, I mean press your head against the windshield," he said sarcastically. "Of course get out!"

  "Can't we just go?"

  "If the person who owns that Lexus is here, their house might be empty. Chelsea, I know what I'm doing. Or would you rather me go in there and deal with whoever turned on that light?"

  "Okay, I'm going."

  "Hang on, I'm turning off the cab light so it won't go on when you open the door. Okay. Go!"

  Once again stepping into the nasty weather, barely able to see where she was going she hurried forward, but as she neared the Lexus she tripped on a coiled hose near the grass verge. Tumbling forward, her arms instinctively flew out to break her fall. Her hands scraped against the concrete, her leg twisted, and she banged her elbow on the hard cement. Sharp pain sliced through her arm, and lying on the ground in the cold dark night being pounded by the pouring rain, she couldn't stop the tears.

  "I hate my life. I hate it, I hate it," she sobbed, wishing a bolt of lightning would crackle from the sky and put an end to her suffering. "I can't do this anymore. I can't."

  She knew her cries of anguish and her pitiful sobs would be drowned out by the weather. But she also knew Scott wouldn't care even if he'd heard them, and if she didn't struggle forward and write down the plate number there'd be hell to pay. He could go for days without speaking, or become violent and hurl things around the house as he screamed at her. She never knew which was worse. At least his fits of temper ended quickly. Crawling forward, she found the paper and pen she'd dropped, then wrote down the information, but as she rose unsteadily to her feet, a hot pain pierced her knee. Hobbling slowly back to the van, she barely managed to make it back inside.

  "Here," she whimpered, handing him the small white pad with shaking fingers.

  "What the fuck happened?"

  "I tripped over a hose. My elbow is killing me, and my knee is too."

  "Stupid bitch. Next time watch where you're going."

  "Don't you care that I'm hurt? Don't you care about me at all?"

  "Of course I do," he replied, his voice changing in an instant, "but baby, I can't stop and take care of you right now. We need to get out of here. Call Winston and give him that plate number."

  "He won't mind if we wake him up?" she asked, taking the pad back and pulling out her phone.

  "Chelsea, why are you being so damned difficult tonight? Fuck. You're questioning everything I say. Just do as you're told."

  Thinking a constant hum would blend in with the sound of the storm, Scott hadn't cut the engine, but as he turned around he glanced in his rearview mirror. A flood of light was illuminating the front of the house and the motor court. On the off-chance they'd been seen he accelerated down the driveway. To his great relief the gates opened, and turning quickly onto the street, he raced up the hill.

  "Where are we going?"

  "I think someone saw us. If they did the security patrol will be looking for a vehicle going down, not up. I'll stop further on and park for about fifteen minutes. Did you call Winston?"

  "I'm doing it now," she said quickly. "Sorry, I got worried when you raced forward like that."

  It was only a few minutes later they had the address for the owner of the Lexus. Her name was Colleen O'Connell.

  "You've got to be shittin' me," Scott said with a huge grin. "This is too good to be true."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Colleen had woken Tony from a deep sleep, shaking his shoulder and softly calling his name.

  "What is it, babe?"

  "I just heard a car out front."

  "You must have been dreaming."

  "No. I heard an engine."

  Turning on the bedside lamp, he sat up, yawned, then padded across the room and stared down at the motor court. It was virtually impossible to see anything through the weather, but he thought he could make out the faint outline of a van.

  "That's weird."

  "Is there someone down there?"

  "I'm not sure. I'll be right back."

  "Tony, maybe you should call the police."

  "And tell them what? I'm not sure I'm seeing anything. Don't worry, I'll turn on the outdoor lights before I open the door. They'll flood the whole area. If there is someone out there, it'll scare the bejesus out of them and they'll take off."

  "Or maybe they won't. I'm coming with you."

  "You stay right where you are."

  "But—"

  "I said, stay here. It's probably nothing, but if I do have an uninvited visitor I don't need them to see you. Stay put."

  Hurrying from the bedroom, Tony trotted down the stairs, flicked the light switches on the foyer wall, and standing to the side of the drapes he peered outside. As far as he could tell the area was empty, but just to be sure he opened his front door and stepped on the porch. Except for Colleen's Lexus, there was nothing to see but the wind-driven rain.

  Then he abruptly remembered he hadn't turned off the entry button.

  Moving back inside, he walked across to the alarm box and changed the setting. Letting out a breath of relief, as he turned to start back up the stairs, he saw Colleen on the way down dressed only in his T-shirt.

  "Tony? Is everything okay?"

  "Fine," he replied, striding up towards her. "Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "Yes, but nothing," he scolded, taking her by the upper arm. "Come on."

  Marching her up the stairs and into the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed, yanked her over his knee and pushed his shirt up to her waist.

  "Stop! What are you doing?"

  "What do you think?" he exclaimed, quickly landing half-a-dozen hard slaps. "I told you to stay put for good reason."

  "Ow, stop, ow, ow."

  "There's no telling what I might have found," he continued, grabbing her wrist as she threw her hand behind her. "I'm the boss in the office, and I'm the boss in situations like this. Got it?"

  "Yes, yes."

  "I'm not kidding around."

  As he sent his open palm from cheek-to-cheek, he could feel his cock stirring to life. Delivering the last hard swat, he pulled her up, bent her over the bed and touched between her legs. She was dripping.

  "Apparently my hot hand makes for a hot pussy," he growled, grabbing a condom from the nightstand drawer. "You really are such a brat."

  "And you really are very strict," she whimpered, staring at him over her shoulder.

  "Only when I have to be."

  His cock sheathed, he separated her pussy lips with his thumbs, lined himself up, and slid into her soaked channel. Filled with an urgent need, he had no desire to take his time, and gripping her hips, he stroked with fast, hard thrusts. With her squeals and gasps driving him forward, he accelerated, refusing to pause for even a moment. When he saw her fingers ball into fists, and she let out a wild wail, a powerful orgasm rocketed through his loins. Moments later he slipped from her sex, and breathlessly helping her on to the bed, he flopped on his back.

  "Tony?" she panted, curling next to him.

  "Yeah, babe?"

  "You spanked me hard."

  "You bet."

  "I'm sorry. You're right. I should've stayed up here. Coming down the stairs like that was stupid."

  "You did it to test me."

  "Shit."

  "Maybe one day you'll be able to pull the wool over my eyes, but your beautiful backside will pay the price every time you try."

  "I think I'll give it a rest for a while."

  "Might be wise. Goodnight, cutie pie."

  "Goodnight, Mr. Bossman."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  When Tony's cell phone buzzed him awake, he was shocked to discover it was almost nine-fifteen. Sleepily picking it up he stared at the screen. It was Emily. He'd told her he wouldn't be in until later that morning, but he was alway
s on the phone with her first thing.

  "Emily, good morning."

  "Good morning. I hope everything's all right."

  "I overslept," he replied as Colleen snuggled against him. "I was up in the middle of the night. I thought I had a prowler."

  "I figured something must have happened. Did you see anyone?"

  "No, thank goodness. What have I missed?"

  "Nothing urgent. I don't see any problems rescheduling the meetings you had for today and tomorrow, but on Wednesday you're supposed to be at the conference with Senator Hansen about the proposed lake development."

  "I know," Tony said thoughtfully. "I've been mulling it over. If I'm this undecided I should pass. Send the senator a warm note saying thank you, but no thank you. Be sure and add I'd be interested in similar projects in the future. Anything else?"

  "Are you still planning to come in, or are you going directly to the airport."

  "I'll come in. Call me if you need me."

  "You're very impressive when you're barking orders," Colleen purred, wrapping her fingers around his cock as he ended the call. "It's such a turn-on."

  "I don't bark—do I?"

  "Not all the time," she said with a giggle, "but you're still impressive."

  "When I get back from Houston, I'm taking you into my office, and—"

  "And what?" she asked, cutting him off. "Will you bend me over your desk and have your way with me."

  "Maybe, or maybe I'll make you sit underneath it and unzip me."

  "While you conduct business?"

  "I'm not sure about that," he said with a chuckle, "but are you ready to hear about the rest of your punishment?"

  "Uh, I suppose."

  "You're going to masturbate three times today and tomorrow, but you're not allowed to orgasm."

  "That's not fair!"

  "Tony, you won't believe it," he said, mimicking her voice, "but my pipes exploded. My house is a swimming pool! I have to stay at a hotel."

  "Okay, okay," she muttered, burying her face in his chest.