Submitting to the Boss (6 page)

Now there was Holt, dressing her for the work
day, hiding her assets as if he was keeping them all to himself.
Ruby liked the sense of possessiveness.

“Shall I buy it?” She’d never asked a man for
permission.

He crooked his finger at her until she leaned
close over him, then he spoke for her alone. “I will buy
everything. I’ll own your clothes just like I own you.”

She wanted to snap back indignantly. No man
owned her, nor had she sponged off anyone. She’d lived in Clay’s
house, but she’d paid her own expenses, and she’d given him as many
gifts as he’d given her. Letting him pay for the hotel room was
only right since he’d kicked her out with hardly any notice. She
wasn’t a taker, and she wasn’t a pushover or a slave. Yet Holt’s
words brought to life a kernel of heat deep inside. Need burgeoned,
not just sexual, but something new, different, exciting.

Ruby didn’t argue with Holt. Or herself.
“What shall I try on for you next?”

“The red skirt and blouse.”

“Whatever you say.
Master
,” she added,
just for fun. She drew in a deep breath of him before she pulled
away. Holt’s scent was delectable, a light aftershave laced with
his masculine aroma.

In the dressing room, she stripped down and
reached for the outfit he wanted. She would never have chosen the
wraparound skirt and loose blouse. Yet the tie could be pulled,
dropping the skirt to the floor. The blouse was sheer and could
easily be removed. Though the cotton camisole beneath didn’t
unbutton, it could be pushed up over her breasts.

Exiting her dressing room, another thrill
shot through her. Holt did things to her with nothing more than a
look, shooting her pulse rate high. She didn’t even mind that he
hadn’t given her an orgasm today. It was all in the anticipation he
created within her.

And God, he
was handsome. The salesclerk fawned over him. The other ladies
flitted in front of him like colorful butterflies. Yet somehow the
man made her feel as if he had eyes only for her. She was used to
being the center of attention—she’d certainly never had a man steal
all her thunder—but she loved being the envy of every woman.

Holt twirled a finger, and Ruby pirouetted
for him, the wraparound swirling. He gave her a slow, appreciative
perusal, then nodded slightly with approval.

Despite the overabundance of material
covering her, she’d never felt sexier. With the next outfit, she
left her panties in the dressing room. By the time she’d tried on
eight different ensembles—Holt had chosen five of them for
purchase—she was trembling with desire. If he’d ordered her to, she
would have dragged him into her dressing cubicle and let him do
anything he wanted.

But all Holt did was hand the salesgirl his
credit card and have her bag Ruby’s purchases, including several
pairs of thigh-highs in various colors. In this exclusive section
of the store, the clerks were paid based on sales, and the woman
was breathless with her commission.

It was dark by the time they reached her car,
and Ruby was starving, both for dinner and other things that only
Holt could provide. The evening ahead was limitless.

She popped her trunk lid, and Holt set the
boxes and bags inside.

Now. Do me here. Please
. She’d have
taken him in the backseat, blown him in the front seat. All he had
to do was issue an order.

Holt snicked the trunk closed. Then, quick as
a flash of lightning, he grabbed her chin and pinned her to the car
with his body. “You are not to touch yourself. No vibrator. No
orgasms. Nothing.”

Maybe if she begged. “Please. I need
something.” Ruby was beyond caring that she
never
begged.

His breath puffed against her lips.
“Nothing.”

“Oh God.”

She realized she’d said it aloud when he
answered her. “God’s got nothing to do with it. You’ve already had
one orgasm today.”

“It wasn’t enough. And I had to do it
myself.” She sounded whiny.

He laughed. Of course, he wanted her whining
and begging. “Be good over the weekend, and I might allow it on
Monday.”

“Monday?” It was an effort not to
screech.

“In my office. While I have you bent over my
desk. Maybe I’ll even have my cock buried inside you when I let you
come.”

“Oh God.” This time she knew she’d said it
aloud, and she didn’t care. “Promise?” The image made her wild.

“Only if you’re a good girl.”

“I’ll be so good,” she vowed, which was a
unique sensation since she’d never made a vow in case she needed to
break it later on.

Then he lowered his mouth to hers, and she
forgot everything. Holt’s taste was like nothing she’d ever
experienced, hot with power over her, delicious with desire. Ruby
responded by devouring him. She went deep with her tongue, then
took him deep. Her arms tight around him, she refused to let go,
clinging. She’d never been a clingy woman, but Holt inspired it in
her. She didn’t care where they were; she needed him right this
minute. She pushed a hand between their vacuum-packed bodies.

“Get a room.” A voice echoed across the
parking lot.

Ruby didn’t even care that they’d been seen.
She could have gone on kissing and touching Holt forever. But he
pulled her wrists down.

“Don’t be greedy,” he whispered against her
mouth.

She wanted to scream. She’d never had a man
who could wait so effortlessly. Usually they were dying to get into
her panties. But Holt was different. She couldn’t control him. She
couldn’t seduce him. But oh did he have the power to seduce her. If
she’d realized that four years ago...

“You’re not ready,” he said, his body still
plastered to hers, the evidence of his desire hard against her.

“You are,” she pointed out.

He stepped back, grinning. “I’ve waited a
long time. I’m not going to ruin all my plans in the heat of the
moment.”

Plans? Ruby liked the idea that he’d been
formulating a plan, maybe even for years. Holt Montgomery wanted
her. To him, she wasn’t disposable. A thrill shot through her.
“What plan?” she practically begged to know.

He chucked her under the chin. “You’ll have
to wait and see. And don’t try to rush me.”

Then he sauntered an aisle over to his
parking spot. And left her.

Ruby was hot, she was wet, and she was
completely seduced. For the first time, a man had wrested the upper
hand from her, and she was completely willing to let him have
it.

Chapter Seven

Saturday was interminable. Ruby missed work,
mostly because she missed Holt. The cramped hotel room drove her
crazy. Yet she couldn’t make herself log onto the computer and
start apartment hunting. Ruby was generally aware of why she did
things—or didn’t do them, as the case may be. But she couldn’t say
exactly why her fingers wouldn’t move on the keyboard. It wasn’t
about making Clay pay. It wasn’t that she didn’t like change. She
loved change.

Ruby admitted she had a small issue with
getting bored too easily, which was why she spent most of the day
going through her clothes, trying them on, and tossing out a bunch
of stuff she didn’t want anymore. She liked new, and Holt had
definitely provided that. Besides, the hotel room was too damn
small for all her suitcases. She piled the cast-offs into the
Beemer and trundled them down to Goodwill. She was sure they didn’t
get stuff like that every day.

But when she got back to the hotel, she
was...bored. Yet she still couldn’t make herself look at
apartments. Weekends had never bored her before, but everything
felt a little colorless without Holt. How could that have happened
in only a matter of days? Hmm, wasn’t it odd that her job with Holt
had never bored her, not even for a second? Holt sizzled with
energy, and it rubbed off on everyone around him.

As day turned to night and the endless
evening wore on, she thought about going down to the hotel bar for
a drink. Bad idea. She might very well get herself into trouble, so
she ran a bath instead. At ten she was soaking beneath a layer of
bubbles and sipping a glass of her favorite chardonnay. She thought
about touching herself, but Holt hadn’t given her permission. Of
course, he’d never know if she did it, but it was rather delicious
to be thinking about sex without being able to give herself relief,
heightening the need, especially with Holt running the show for
her.

Her cell phone rang.

“Dammit,” she muttered. She’d left it on the
bedside table. It was probably Clay. Except that Clay wouldn’t
bother calling her at ten on a Saturday night. He wouldn’t bother
calling her at all. That meant it could only be—

She almost slipped rushing out of the tub.
Grabbing a towel, she was dripping water in a path to the bed, but
the phone had stopped ringing. Double damn. Then her message
notification lit up the screen.

Pushing the button, she waited a moment as
the cell connected, then keyed in her password, and it was as she’d
hoped.

Her pulse beat faster as she
listened to Holt’s
message. “Why aren’t you answering
your phone, Ruby? Are you doing something you need to be punished
for?” He sounded mildly amused, then his tone grew harsh. “You
better be on my front doorstep by ten thirty or you will suffer the
consequences.”

He wanted her to drop everything and rush
over at ten o’clock like she had nothing better to do? He was so
damn dictatorial.

Ruby couldn’t dress fast enough. The ends of
her hair were still damp from the tub when she started her car. Her
makeup was perfect, but she wore a comfy old pair of sweats that no
one except Clay had ever seen her in. She hoped the outfit—which
was the furthest thing from seductive and didn’t follow any of
Holt’s strictures—would enflame him to the point of tearing
everything off. Then he’d find the sexy little zebra print thong
beneath. Thinking about all the possibilities, she was wet before
she’d even pulled out of the Marriott’s parking lot and delirious
with need by the time she turned into Holt’s circular drive.

He lived in a modest bungalow in the affluent
neighborhood of Atherton. The low-slung house, with a two-car
garage on one end, was fronted by a short hedge of azaleas and a
brick walkway leading to the stoop. The windows were double pane,
all made with West Coast’s low-e film.

He opened the door wearing a pair of jeans
she’d seen him in only at company picnics. The faded material
cupped and caressed his cock. Ruby’s mouth watered for a taste.

“How dare you issue orders to me in a phone
message.” She glared at him, trying to pretend he didn’t make her
breathless.

“Then you should have answered my call.”
Holding the door, he barred her entry. “Where were you, Ruby?”

To lie or not to lie? What would have the
greater impact? “A nice young man was just about to pick me up in
the hotel bar when you interrupted.” She smiled. “My hotel room was
empty.”

He grinned, baring his teeth. “Bitch,” he
said mildly.

“Asshole,” she countered.

He imprisoned her wrist and hauled her
inside. “You get points for being honest,” he said, pulling her
along behind him as he crossed the living room.

It was a good house for entertaining, with a
large brick fireplace, leather furniture, and modern
glass-and-chrome tables. The dining room made the short end of the
living room’s L, the kitchen to the right and the bedroom hallway
off to the left. That’s where he took her. Her flat-heeled sandals
slapped on the hardwood floor as he forced her past a guest room,
bathroom, and his home office, which were all along the back of the
house. His bedroom door was last on the left, but he pulled her
into the room opposite.

While she’d attended Holt’s parties, acting
the hostess for him, arranging the caterers, et cetera, she’d never
been this far back in the house. She wondered if his bedroom was
filled with sterile, modern furniture as well, but he didn’t give
her the chance to find out as he kicked the door of the workout
room closed behind them. Equipment filled every available space:
weight bench, treadmill, bike, rowing machine, and more. No wonder
he was so fit.

Without stopping a beat, he hauled her to the
massage table in the room’s center. “Get up on here.”

When she didn’t move fast enough, he put his
hands to her waist and set her on the padded surface, forcing her
to sit with her feet dangling.

“You don’t need to be so rough,” she groused,
but her body tingled with how easily he lifted her and the
lingering feel of his touch.

“What did he look like?”

“Who?”

“The man who tried to pick you up.”

She’d momentarily forgotten her lie. “Hot and
sexy.” She pouted for him, gratified when his gaze dropped to the
lushness of her red lips.

Holt shook his head. “You’re pushing it, my
sweet.”

She didn’t know why the term sent a wave of
heat through her. Perhaps it was hearing endearments from Holt’s
lips. She’d never cared about all that, but, as with everything
else in the past few days, Holt made it all new, all desirable.

He bent, grasped both her ankles in one hand,
pulled her legs up, and whirled her around on the table. The move
was so fast, she fell back prone. Holt didn’t waste a moment of her
dizziness, and before she could pull free, he had one of her wrists
handcuffed. She’d barely opened her mouth to protest when he had
her other wrist cuffed to the table as well.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I did mention consequences,” he reminded her
affably.

She kicked at him when he went for one of her
feet, but he easily imprisoned her ankle. In seconds she was
completely bound to the table. She hadn’t even noticed the manacles
when she’d first walked in. The inside of the cuffs were lined with
a soft material so her wrists and ankles weren’t chafed, and each
had a chain long enough to allow her a small amount of movement.
“But I didn’t do anything.”