Submitting to the Boss (3 page)

Her body heated against his, and her scent
rose to cloud his mind. She moved against him, sinuously. A sound
escaped her throat. It could have been a moan.

Then she pushed her hands between them and
shoved. Holt gave way.

“I’ll come into your office when you call,”
she said, her tone biting, “but only to do my job.” She got in the
last word as she yanked on the knob. Ruby always made sure to get
the last word.

He smiled as the door slammed behind her. She
would come when he called because she was dying to know what her
next punishment would be and hoping it proved even better than the
spanking.

* * * * *

The man’s nerve. Ruby practically threw
herself into the driver’s seat of her sporty little BMW. How dare
he?

But oh, her pussy was still singing. She
wanted more. For a moment, when he had her pinned to the door, his
cock pressed into her skirt at just the right spot, she’d thought
he’d take her. She wouldn’t have stopped him. She’d have castigated
him afterward, but she would have let him give her what her body
craved.

Though she might enjoy whatever he had
planned for her so-called punishment, she would have to turn the
tables on him. Right now, however, she had other fish to fry. Clay.
He’d granted Holt
permission
to punish her?

She started the engine, and the tires
squealed as she pulled out of the lot.

All right, Clay had kicked her out and maybe
she’d deserved that. She’d broken his rules. In retrospect, she
fully admitted she’d gone too far. Things had gotten a little
boring. She’d tried to spice them up, but she hadn’t been prudent
in her method. In her defense, Clay loved having her come home to
him after she’d been with another man. That’s what their
relationship was all about. She was his hotwife—even if they
weren’t married—and he got off on the scent of another man’s come
on her. He went wild when she told him all the dirty details. The
problem: Bradley Palmer was not the right man and Clay’s desk was
not the right place. But to simply give her to Holt? Like she was a
thing
he could pass around?

Ruby’s blood boiled. She did the choosing,
not the man.

A faint tremor passed through her, a little
aftershock of that sublime orgasm. Okay, she’d enjoyed it. No,
she’d
loved
it. U
nder different
circumstances, she never would have stalked out of Holt’s office.
Even if he was her boss. But she couldn’t let him think she was
giving an inch. And she was going to give Clay Blackwell a piece of
her mind.

West Coast’s headquarters wasn’t far from the
house she’d formerly lived in. She was about to pull into the
driveway, but there was another car there. Ruby rolled to a stop at
the curb. She knew that car.

Jessica Murphy’s car.

Her heart flipped over, then started to pound
in her chest. She actually felt the prick of tears at the corners
of her eyes.

He’d really turned to that woman. He’d tossed
Ruby out on her hind end and invited that woman in. Jessica Murphy,
or, as Ruby liked to think of her, Little Miss Muffet. It wasn’t
fair.

In her heart of hearts, though, she had to
admit the truth to herself. She’d practically thrown Clay into
Little Miss Muffet’s arms. Then he’d blithely given Ruby to Holt.
Could things be any more unfair?

Well, screw him. How would he feel if he saw
how much she loved being with Holt? How she did everything Holt
told her to? That would be a fine payback.

Clay thought Holt was punishing her? Well,
let him think she absolutely adored the punishment. And wanted more
of it. Yes, it was perfect. She wouldn’t let him have the
satisfaction of knowing she hated it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t
give a rash of crap to Holt at the same time. Ruby was very good at
playing both sides of the fence.

Yes, she’d show them both.

If everything else Holt did to her was as
good as that orgasm in his office, she couldn’t lose.

Chapter Three

Holt was ignoring her. Well, not
ignoring
, but he was all business Friday morning, as if he
hadn’t done a thing to her in his office the night before.

What’s up with that?

Ruby didn’t like being ignored by a man who
had so recently given her such a powerful orgasm. Worse, it was
Holt. He’d changed all the rules on her last night. She’d actually
dreamed about the man, waking in the night to touch herself in the
darkness of her lonely hotel room.

And now? She was simply his admin again.

“Ruby,” he called from his office. “Can you
bring me the Gorton file, please?”

See, he was like normal—asking instead of
demanding, saying please and thank you instead of issuing orders.
As if last night had never happened.

She retrieved the file, stalked into his
office, and slapped the folder on his desk. He raised an eyebrow,
but all he did was thank her.

He didn’t even look at her—at least not below
the neck. She’d worn a tight sweater with four buttons left undone
to show off her cleavage, not to mention the slacks that fit as if
they were suction-cupped to her derriere. But did Holt even bother
to look? No.

She stormed from the office and sat down so
quickly her chair almost slid out from under her. Wouldn’t that be
the icing on the cake, falling flat on her ass?

Men. She’d thought she knew them inside and
out, always able to tell what they were thinking and anticipating
how best to use that to her advantage. Holt managed to throw her
off her stride. Come to think of it, he’d always had that effect on
her, but she’d viewed him only as her boss so it hadn’t
mattered.

“Ruby,” he called again. She felt her hackles
rise. “Would you get Gorton on the phone for me?”

He could easily have dialed the number
himself since he had the file. But she had to look the number up in
her contacts folder. On the East Coast, it was close to three in
the afternoon, and Gorton’s admin answered promptly. Ruby exchanged
brief pleasantries and necessities, then punched a button while the
woman transferred the call. “Line three,” she called out to
Holt.

Gorton was a potential customer for their
Liquid Crystal instant window blinds—that’s how Ruby thought of the
product, though it was actually referred to as privacy glass.
Utilizing a Liquid Crystal film similar to that employed in touch
screens, the push of a button effectively turned clear glass to
opaque. The application was particularly useful for offices and
conference rooms where instant privacy was required.

Five minutes later, her intercom buzzed.
“Ruby, come in here.”

Oh, for God’s sake. Had they changed the plan
for the plant tour yet again? Gorton was flying out a week from
Monday, but the date had already been rescheduled three times.

She carried a steno pad. “What day did he
change it to now?” she asked.

Seated behind his desk, Holt snapped the
folder closed. “He’s arriving on the Saturday, staying at the
Westin in San Francisco,
and he’
d like an
evening tour of the City. Arrange for a limousine to pick me up at
home in time to get to his hotel by eight.” He stared at her
expressionlessly. “And I will require your attendance.”

She was already irritated, and his order made
her blood start to boil over. “I don’t work on weekends.”

His expression didn’t give an inch. “You’ve
always attended my weekend meetings. And you will do so again
next
weekend.”

“Since you’ve already said you won’t fire me,
what are you going to do if I don’t show up?” Never before would
she have allowed herself such temerity, not with Holt. He was
special, unlike most other men in her life, because he was her
boss.

“Then your next punishment will be even
greater.”

Little did he know that what he proposed
didn’t sound like punishment at all. She egged him on. “Then I want
to be paid overtime.” She was salaried and didn’t receive overtime
pay.

There was a hint of evil in Holt’s smile.
“Done. I believe you should be paid for every service you perform
for me.”

That sounded ominous, but she’d gotten what
she asked for. “If there’s nothing else...” She trailed off,
pointing back toward the door and her lunch hour.

“Close it and lock it.”

Ruby’s skin began to heat. “What for?”

Holt made a slight tick of his head. “Because
I told you to.”

Punishment. It was what she’d been waiting
for all morning, not the punishment itself, but the attention. With
anyone else, she would have called the need pathetic. Yet she
wanted it from Holt. She wanted the sensations—both physical and
emotional—that he’d evoked in her yesterday.

“Do it,” he said in the midst of her
hesitation, “or you won’t like the consequences.”

Ruby had the feeling she’d love the
consequences. That alone was rather scary. Which was why she
snapped at him—“Fine, whatever”—and stalked to the door, closed it
just short of slamming it, then clicked the lock. “Now what?”

“Close the blinds.” He was isolating them in
his office just as he had last night. Ruby’s body grew damp with
desire as she crossed to the window. Hmm, maybe he should have the
privacy film installed here, except that office gossip would run
rampant if he did.

She turned after executing his order.
“And?”

He pushed his chair back, swiveled, spread
his legs, and pointed between them. “Stand here.”

Ruby smirked, then rolled her eyes. She had
to keep up the front of indifference, but inside she was trembling,
her pussy wet, her skin flushed. She stopped in front of him, not
quite between his legs, and looked down. Most men wouldn’t have
liked being looked down on, but Holt was never really in the
one-down position with anyone.

“Here is what you will do for me from now on.
Deviate from it and you will pay the price.” He lifted a brow. “Am
I clear?”

“Whatever,” she said.

Her insolence didn’t faze him. “You will wear
thong panties only. No bikinis, no granny panties, and nothing in
between.”

She wanted to laugh. That was easy. She was a
thong girl all the way, except for a few lacy cheeky panties and
one pair of red crotchless. “And how will you even know if I’m not
wearing what you tell me to?”

He shot her that evil grin again. “I’ll be
checking.”

Of course. She wanted him to. The game was
becoming fun. Sexy. Ruby found herself wanting more. “What if I
don’t wear panties at all?”

He stroked his chin, and a fire lit in his
eyes. “That’s acceptable, too. And you will wear only thigh-high
stockings.”

Ruby hated pantyhose. She usually went
bare-legged, but she had a few pairs of thigh-highs, just for the
sexiness.

“I want your pussy readily accessible to
me.”

That sent a little thrill through her, along
with the idea of Holt putting his hand up her dress and testing to
see if she’d followed instructions.

He glanced down her length to her tight
slacks. “I love the shape of your ass, my sweet,” he said, his
voice low and slight husky. “But from now on, skirts only. And they
can be no shorter than three inches above the knee.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was
hearing. She
never
wore anything as long as that. She loved
showing off her legs.

“Only I will be allowed to enjoy the
lusciousness of your thighs.” He tipped his head. “Unless I choose
to let another man see them.”

She rolled her lips together, careful not to
smudge her lipstick. When she let them pop free, she knew the look
was lush and plump. “I’ll have to buy a whole new wardrobe.” Though
she was sure in one of her suitcases, she had a few things that
would suffice.

“I have an account at Saks. You may buy what
you need.”

Oh.
Oh
. Now, wasn’t that
marvelous.

“You will wear only blouses beneath blazers,
something that can be unbuttoned. Never a pullover.”

“I don’t wear blouses under my jackets.”

His lips flattened. “You will
start
wearing them, and they will be buttoned up to the neck. No one sees
your wares unless I allow them to.”

God. Buttoned up to the neck. She’d looked
like perfect Little Miss Jessica Muffet.

Holt went on before she could sputter a word.
“And you will wear only bras that clasp in the front. Yesterday’s
was not.”

“This is—” She couldn’t think of a word bad
enough for something that was actually quite delicious.

“You will be ready to receive my punishment
at a moment’s notice.” His gaze turned sly. “And the punishment
will involve sex.” His voice was like a touch to her pussy, hot and
exciting. She’d never liked taking orders, but Holt made it
irresistible. “You will suck my cock when I demand it”—he
shrugged—“to ease my tension after a particularly long
meeting.”

She glanced down. He was hard, a bulge in his
pants. Ruby’s mouth watered. She’d never even dreamed of tasting
him; now she couldn’t wait.

“I will fuck you when I want. I will give you
to another man if and when I choose. But you will not see anyone
without my permission, and you will not touch yourself between
punishments.”

“You’re joking.” She’d go crazy if she didn’t
give herself relief.

“I’m perfectly serious. You will be mad for
my punishment, practically begging for it.”

“I’ve never begged for anything from any
man.”

He stood abruptly, crowding her because Ruby
refused to back off. Half an inch taller, he felt a mile high above
her. His musky sexual scent made her want to swoon. She breathed
him in, felt dizzy, and wanted to beg for more just the way he said
she would.

It
was
crazy. Two days ago she
wouldn’t have allowed herself a sexual thought about him. Yet now
she’d go mad if he didn’t touch her
. She’d even
let him spank her.