Hooked: Club Decadence Book 7, page 8
Granting her a reprieve from the all-nude weekend, he still limited her attire for brunch to a sundress and sandals, nothing else. This fell under Joseph’s newly implemented no-panties-with-dresses rule.
“Are there going to be a lot of them?” she asked as she surrendered her lace bikini panties—that were so skimpy they really shouldn’t count—on the way to his car.
“A lot of what?” he asked, grinning, as he tucked them into his jeans pocket.
“Rules,” she replied.
He eyed her, one dark brow raised as if to say, you work for me and you have to ask?
She remembered typing the revised employee handbook that filled a three-inch binder. Livia added one just like it to her mental shopping list so she could keep up with them all.
As he handed into the car, like a gentleman, she asked, “Why no panties? It’s not like we can do anything in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”
His grinning response, “You’d be surprised,” concerned her. But then he elaborated. “Being bare will be a reminder of my dominance over you, not to mention it will keep you wet and hungry and ready—just how I like you.”
The heated glance he gave her, even though it had been only minutes since their quickie, had her squirming in her seat.
Being naked at home with him or under her dress in public made her aware of her body and her proximity to his. She soon caught on to his plan of using texture and touches to push her to the very limits of her control. Like when he brushed by her in the kitchen, allowing the coarseness of his trousers to abrade her bare behind. Or, when he pulled her close for a hug or a kiss ensuring that her hard nipples—which had been in a state of near perpetual stimulation since he’d left her naked and wanting in her apartment—rubbed the placket of his shirt or caught on a button.
Even the few times he allowed her to dress, he’d used subtle touches to keep her aroused. While out for breakfast, while they walked to their table, his hand rode her lower back, but two of his fingers dipped to her behind and rubbed the material of her dress over her pantyless cheeks. Even when they snuggled on the couch while reading the paper or watching the news, he’d curled her into his side such that his shirtsleeve rubbed across her nipples every time he moved.
It was driving her mad. Fortunately, he took her often, relieving the edgy buildup. The only times that she was ill at ease all weekend were when he dragged her down to sit perched on his thigh, a position he seemed to favor but left her uncomfortably aware of the press of her drenched pussy against his pants. When he permitted her to get up, she did so, praying she hadn’t left an embarrassing wet spot.
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. He ordered her closer with a soft, “come here, pet,” whenever she wandered too far away.
If occupied with a task, he delighted in posing her provocatively. While preparing their lunch on Saturday—that he cooked was something else new she learned about him—he picked her up and plopped her bare bottom on the cold granite counter. He positioned her like a mud flap pinup, leaning 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 armrests, 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 played 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 and he hadn’t been joking.
As much great sex as they had, they were also incredibly intimate on a nonsexual 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 Livia 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.
Afterward, lying on the plush area rug in his living room, relaxed in one another’s arms, she blurted out, “Why didn’t you ever marry?”
Silence followed.
“If you want to tell me, I mean,” she rushed to say. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”
The arm wrapped around her waist gave her a firm squeeze. “Hush, baby. I’ve got nothing to hide. I was married once, a long time ago.”
She rose on an elbow and gazed down at him. “I don’t think anyone knows that at work.”
“The office gossip mill must be on the fritz. Have you heard any other good dirt about me?”
“It can’t be very accurate. No one knows you’re a dom.”
“I should hope not.” He reached up and tucked several strands of loose blonde hair coiled on his chest behind her ear. “Not that I’m ashamed of what I am, but I prefer keeping my private life private. That’s why I play at the club.”
“Because it’s two hours away,” she said, nodding. She’d done the same thing.
“That and because they thoroughly screen their members. And guests have to come by recommendation of a member, or they don’t get in.”
“I didn’t,” she replied, although she had to fill out a bunch of paperwork.
“You just wandered in off the street?” he challenged.
“Well, no. I had an invitation that was arranged by a friend of a friend.”
“One or both of whom vouched for you.”
“Ah...”
“You also had to sign an ironclad confidentiality agreement which, if broken could be financially painful. I know because I wrote it.” He tapped her nose with his finger. “And you, my pretty pet, typed it for me.”
“I did?”
“Yep. About two years ago. It may have seemed generic, but believe me, it wasn’t.”
She shifted, stacked her fists on his chest and her chin on top of them. “What happened that your marriage didn’t work out?”
“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. 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 nearly 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 shifted and toppled her onto her back. Then, propped on a forearm, he leaned over her, cupping her cheek in his free hand.
“If you’re trying to find out if I’m anti-marriage and anti-kids, I’m not. Although this weekend has proven we have something very promising growing here, three days might be a bit early to write vows and hire a decorator for the nursery.”
She balked. “Oh no, I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t, pet. 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 fully on top of her. “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 a bottom drawer when you were around? I put everything down low on purpose. If you had looked, you would have found all the top ones completely empty.”
When he blinked, she could practically see all the times she’d stuck her bottom virtually in his face flash 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, straitlaced, 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, Livia, 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 9
THEIR IDYLLIC WEEKEND flew by and reality returned bright and early Monday morning. Nattily dressed in a suit—a lightweight tweed in blue, gray, and brown over-check with coordinating blue buttons and solid trousers—jaw clean-shaven and smooth, his hair perfectly combed, Joseph drove her to the office in his Jag. She sat beside him in her usual snug skirt, silk blouse, and four-inch heels. Outwardly, she tried to put on a brave front, but inside, her stomach was twisted in knots.
He pulled into his reserved parking space and switched off the ignition at the same time she released a tremulous sigh.
“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 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 in the office grapevine, Joseph.”
“Perhaps, but it will pass quickly. 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 don’t plan 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 with a kiss, undeterred when she turned her head at the last moment. Instead, he whispered teasingly in her ear, “How about I reserve all fucking for my office behind the locked door? Will that do?”
Even if this wasn’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 his, sobering when he took in her distress.
“Aw, pet, 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 aboveboard 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, if there is the first hint of nastiness, I’ll nip it in the bud.”
Her hand rose to his cheek. 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 about 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 client interviews, 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 the close of business the following day, she was missing him terribly.
To make matters worse, his return flight was delayed. When he walked in after lunch, giving her only a discreet peck on the cheek in greeting, she regretted her request for professionalism in the office.
The adage be careful what you ask for rattled around in her head, not stopping when Joseph came out of his office an hour later on his way to court.
“Do you have those two motions 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. He was the only man she knew who wore a bow tie, but as sexy as Joseph was, he worked it.
Distracted by his glittering green-eyed gaze and warm smile, she handed him the folder with the documents. Her vision became hazy with longing 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 when he glanced her way again.
“Get us a table at the Fig Tree tonight,” he said quietly. “My mouth is watering for Sea Scallops.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she replied, thinking a kiss and them getting naked on the couch in his office sounded a million times better than the city’s best seafood.
“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 and her fantasies were on the lustful side as she stood staring longingly at the empty doorway for some 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 then pulled out drawers and sifted 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 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 over 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 typewritten 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 mitigate the damage.”
