“I didn’t realize you were ready for that.”
Across the room, Leila’s head remains buried in the contracts I gave to her. I pulled her resume to see what we’d hired her to do, and she has a finance degree from Yale. And we had her copying shit. What a waste.
“I’m going to have Leila work on it.”
“The temp?” Connor’s shocked.
“She has a finance degree. Why not?”
“That’s right. Also a champion chess player. She kind of reminds me of the girl in The Queen’s Gambit.”
I run my eyes over Leila’s blond hair and Cupid’s bow mouth. There’s a resemblance, I guess, but Leila’s a hundred times hotter. It makes me mad how turned on I am by her. I’m going to have to fuck her. That’s the only solution. If I don’t, the inferno building inside me is going to explode.
“You should stop thinking about Leila,” I instruct in a low, angry voice.
Connor sucks in a breath. “It’s like that?”
“Yeah. It’s fucking like that.” I disconnect the call and glare moodily across the room.
“I feel your eyes boring a hole in the top of my head. Did I copy something wrong? Is your assistant tattling on me?”
She’s got a sharp mouth on her, and it only serves to intensify the ache in my groin. “No,” I reply curtly.
She peeks up through a veil of lashes. “Do you hate your job? Every time you talk about work, you seem mad.”
“I love my work.”
“You love it so much you’re about to break your pen in half and it’s plastic, not wood.”
I look down at the writing utensil I’ve gripped between my fingers. The pressure is so fierce that my thumbs are white. I hadn’t even realized it. I toss the pen aside. “Are you a temp because you can’t keep a job with that smart mouth of yours or for some other reason?”
“Maybe someone slashed your tires because they think you’re a bad boss for harassing them at work?” she fires back.
“Sounds like that’s a yes, you were fired because of your back chat. Maybe we should bring back corporal punishment. A few whacks, and you wouldn’t be so chatty.”
“What is your obsession with spanking?”
The words come out of her mouth before she realizes I never mentioned her ass needed to be the body part that should be smacked. She jumps to her feet. “I hear—I gotta—”
I leap out of my chair and am across the room before she can escape. I grab her wrist in one motion, slam the door shut in another, and swing her back to the wall. Her eyes are huge, and her breath is coming out in short, hot pants. I slam my hands on either side of her head and cage her in.
“If you wanted me to paddle you until you can’t walk, you should have said something, sweetheart. I am here for you one hundred percent.”
“I never said that,” she squeaks.
“You must’ve been thinking about it.” I lean in close. “Why else would that pop out? Is that why you’re a mouthy brat? Because you want me to discipline you?” I drop a hand to her hip. She quivers under my touch. I can practically smell her desire. “Does it get you wet to think about being draped over my lap while your thighs grow red from my hand?”
“Where else would you whack someone? On their toes? Of course, it would be the butt. It’s a natural conclusion.” She tries to argue, but her cheeks are rosy and her chest is heaving.
“I agree that this is all very natural.” I wrench off my tie and capture one of her wrists in the silk and then the other. “To show you what a good boss I am, I’ll give you a taste of what you’re so clearly begging for.”
Chapter Eleven
Leila
What the hell is happening here? Furthermore, why am I not trying to stop him? Even as he wraps his tie around my wrists, I don’t try to resist but willingly let him. My whole body is on fire with need. I should detest this man. He’s the enemy. I had nothing, and still he’s taken more from me.
He pulls on the tie, bringing me forward. In one quick move, he spins me around and pushes everything off the desk. Papers and folders go flying as he bends me over the side of it. None of this should be turning me on but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t. Actually I believe I’m way beyond that at this point.
“Warren.” I say his name.
“Yes, sweetheart?” His hand runs down the curve of my ass. He takes his time like he’s memorizing the feel of me under his hand.
“Stop calling me that.” It’s not that I don’t enjoy hearing him call me that but that it does weird shit to my insides. He can’t have a pet name for me. That’s going too far, crossing lines I’m trying to put up to keep him at a distance. Yet he continues to step right over them with all his lingering touches.
“You give a lot of orders for a girl bent over my desk.”
I moan when I feel his cock press into my ass. His hand slips around to go under my shirt. His fingers trail across my stomach until he reaches the button on my slacks. He tugs, popping the button loose before shoving my pants down my legs.
“Is this what you had in mind? When you kept running your mouth?” This time when he runs his hand down my stomach, he keeps going all the way down to between my thighs.
I bite the inside of my cheek when I hear him let out a low curse under his breath. I close my eyes. I’m not sure if it’s shame or shyness, but there is no denying now that I am turned on. My wet panties are all the evidence that he needed.
“Answer me,” he demands.
“Go to hell.” I let out a small scream when his hand comes down onto my ass. The shock of pain hits me, somehow traveling straight to my clit. I try to press my thighs together, but he catches me. He uses his foot to spread my feet wider apart.
“Do you want to try that again?” he asks, his hand rubbing the spot he smacked. I don’t say a word. Not even to tell him to stop. “Okay then.” He yanks my panties down next, dragging them halfway down my thighs. His hand comes down on me again, this time on my bare ass.
The sound of the smack hitting my skin is as erotic as the feel of his hand on me. He rubs again. When he pulls his hand back, I know he’s going to spank me again and again until I answer him. The throb between my legs continues to grow with no relief in sight. Even my breasts are starting to ache. I need release, but how much am I willing to give up to get it?
“I don’t know why I do it,” I blurt out. It’s the truth. I’ve never worked in an office, but at the diner I would never have talked to the manager—let alone the owner—the way I speak to him. I shouldn’t be doing it now. I can’t lose this job. That would mean I failed. But still I push and push as if I’m a child pressing the boundaries to see what I can get away with.
“See. Was that so hard?” His hand runs back down between my thighs, but he only cups my sex. I shamelessly try and press down on his hand, needing more. I cry out when he removes his hand, but a moment later it’s coming back down onto my sex.
I gasp. All the air leaves my lungs. He did not just spank me there! My legs start to tremble. I’m not sure how much more I can take. I want to push up off the desk and attack him. Demand that he finish what he started.