Restraining the Receptionist: ... the Receptionist, Book 2 (3 page)

“What?”

“Fragile. But strong too. God, I loved watching your eyes go all blotto and your body, the way you took him in, all the way in…”

“Okay, stop.”

I stopped, biting my lip. I’d never seen such an uncertain look on Simon’s face. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just—hard for me to talk about.”

Various unidentifiable emotions chased across his face. At a guess, maybe shame, arousal, regret, desire.

“Did you like it?” I whispered, not sure if this was forbidden territory or not.

His answer came in a pained whisper. “I always do. Ethan wouldn’t…he wouldn’t…if I didn’t.”

I traced my fingers through the dark patch of fur on his chest. Black hair, white skin. A lot like me, actually, except I’m an ink junkie decorated with dragonflies and yin-yang symbols. A whole world had just opened in front of me, a world in which Ethan had Simon under his thumb, the same way Simon had me under his thumb. I belonged to Simon, body and soul…did that mean Simon belonged to Ethan, not me?

It didn’t really bother me. I was awed and amazed that any part of Simon belonged to me. But it did make me wonder, even more than I already did, about Mr. Ethan Cowell, Senior Partner of the firm of Cowell & Dirk.

“How long have you and Ethan been…?”

“Lovers?”

Was that the word? Somehow it didn’t seem enough. I shrugged.

“I’ve tried to stop, you know.” He mimicked my tracing of his chest with gentle fingers up my forearm. “He’s a hard man to resist.”

Didn’t I know it. Hard to resist, hard to ignore, hard to forget. I settled for, “He’s a hard man to like.”

Simon sat up, bumping me backwards on his thighs. “Never say that. Ethan is…well, there’s a reason he’s the way he is. I love the man.”

“Even though he’s a twisted bastard?”

He put a finger under my bare nipple. “You don’t seem to object to the things that twisted bastard does to you.”

My nipples hardened, whether it was in response to his touch or his words, I wasn’t sure. I shrugged it off, going for bravado. “I’ll take a good orgasm any day. Doesn’t mean I have to like the guy.”

He searched my face. His scar stood out more than usual against his slight tan, which he must have acquired while ducking in and out of air conditioned buildings. “You like him.”

“No, I don’t. Sometimes I hate him.”

“I see.” The cryptic look that followed gave me no clues as to his meaning. “I’m going on a business trip, my sweet, starting tomorrow.” His finger left my nipple and went on an excursion from one breast to the other.

“What? Where?”

“Atlantic City. Headquarters of the Woodfield Group. I’m doing the final pitch.”

“I’ll come with you.” Panic made my voice flutter. Since I’d first walked into Cowell & Dirk, I hadn’t been away from Simon for more than a weekend. It had never even occurred to me to take a vacation. A vacation from what? Being at work was all the R and R I needed.

“No, Ethan needs you here. The office is still open. The phones will still ring. Someone’s got to answer them.”

“You’re leaving me here with
him
?”

A smile pulled his scar up his face. “What are you worried about, exactly? You know he won’t touch you when I’m not there.”

“I know.” That didn’t worry me. Maybe it was the opposite. The fact that he wouldn’t touch me, that nobody would until Simon came back. And what about Ethan’s threat of a “loophole”?

“How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes.”

“You’ll be checking in?”

“Every day.” He lifted my chin. “I can’t go too long without hearing my girl’s voice.”

Melt. I cuddled against his chest. His cock rose against my thigh. A couple quick adjustments and soon I was riding him, slow and sweet, my head nuzzled into his neck. Our bodies moved together like honey. We knew each other so well, knew just how to move, what spots to touch. A hum of contentment spread throughout my flesh, down to the callus on my little toe. No one could love anyone more completely than I loved Simon.

And yet, my mind wandered. Wild images flashed through my head. The red ribbon pinning my arms to my side. Ethan’s flat palm brushing against my swollen nipples. Simon, head bent, lowering his pants. Ethan pumping his cock into Simon’s white, vulnerable ass.

Oh God. Before I knew it I was coming. Helpless to stop it, I draped myself across Simon’s chest and let the spasms take me. Beneath me, I felt the same thing happening to Simon. Both of us shuddered in tandem, clinging to each other on our life raft of clean white sheets.

“I have a feeling we’ve got Ethan to thank for that one,” Simon said afterward, clearing his throat.

I lifted my head. Had he too been picturing scenes from our earlier session? Maybe feeling Ethan’s thrusts in his backside while he made love to me? I didn’t want to think so. I wanted to be the only thing on his mind. But I had to admit he was probably right.

“Twisted bastard,” I muttered.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “You be sure to tell him so sometime over the next few days.”

“Even if I do, it’s not like he can do anything about it…” Suddenly it came to me. I punctuated my stroke of genius with a punch on his arm. “I can do anything I want, and he can’t punish me! A deal’s a deal.”

“My sweet little rebel, be careful. Don’t mess with Ethan.”

“Hey. I’m from Long Island. I’m all about the mess.” I winked at him.

Chapter Three

After my revelation about the deal, I found myself looking forward to the next day at work. I’d be a mouse turning the tables on a cat. I could tease and sass all I wanted, and Ethan wouldn’t be able to avenge himself. I couldn’t wait!

I strode jauntily into the office wearing a brand new work outfit. I’d picked this one out myself, so it actually covered all the naughty parts of my body. A flirty summer skirt in a virginal sky-blue, topped with a white schoolgirl blouse added up to a clear message. Hands off.

But Ethan wasn’t there to receive my message. I poked my head into the inner suite of offices to find his door closed and a low rumbling murmur that meant he was on the phone. I settled in at my desk and retrieved the voice mail messages that had come in overnight. I emailed the list of calls to Ethan. He sent no answer back. Not that he would, since he usually didn’t, but I couldn’t help checking my email every two seconds anyway.

The morning ticked by, call by call, yawn by yawn. My job wasn’t exactly the most intellectually stimulating. I got my stimulation in other ways, which weren’t available at the moment. Around ten thirty, Brian the package guy came in. As usual, a dull flush crept up his cheeks at the sight of me. Apparently that one Simon-mandated session of eating me out behind the desk had really stuck with him.

I gave him an innocent smile—who me? Spread my legs for the package delivery guy?—and reached for the packages he brought. Oddly, one of them was addressed to me. While he rearranged the remaining packages on his dolly, I ripped it open. It was a homemade DVD with the words “Cowell & Dirk” written on it in black sharpie. And a note from Ethan.

Please hand this DVD immediately to Brian as a little thank you for his loyal service to Cowell & Dirk.

Chills shot through me. I had a bad feeling about this. Ethan and Simon loved their video cameras. They loved recording our sessions, and they loved watching them later. What was on that DVD? It could be anything. One camera was strategically placed with a full frontal view of anyone bound to the hook hidden in Simon’s ceiling tiles. I’d spent quite a few hours hanging from that hook as they raised and lowered it and put me into all kinds of compromising poses.

Or had the camera under my desk recorded the DVD? The one that had recorded me fondling myself, as instructed, legs wide open, until my juices flowed down my thighs?

Or maybe it was from the camera in the kitchenette? I didn’t know how many lunch hours I’d spent naked, sucking off my bosses until they returned the favor. It got so the phrase “lunch hour” made me nearly come in my underwear.

“Is that my name?” Brian peered at the note from Ethan. “Something for me?”

“No.” I snatched it away. Brian the Goofball was not about to see whatever intimate, blackmail-worthy scenes might be on that DVD.

“But it says—”

“No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t say anything. Better go, Dental Miracles is expecting their brochures.”

He gave me a suspicious look, but did what I said. At least I had Brian under my thumb.

Later that afternoon, when Ethan ambled into the front office, my lie came back to haunt me.

“Did Brian get his gift?”

“Uh…” My thoughts ran like cockroaches. Evade or confess? “He, uh, declined the gift.”

“Really? Who would refuse a gift like that?”

I shrugged. “Who knows with Brian. He’s not…all there,” I whispered significantly, tapping my head.

“He certainly sounded all there when he called me and asked about it.”

Oh, fuck. Fuckety-fuck-fuck.

I pleated my skirt, feeling like a third grader caught without a hall pass. “I’m sorry, I just…I didn’t know. What was. On the DVD.” My lack of breath made everything come out in little gasps.

“And what business was it of yours?” His icy eyes flicked across me. He put out his hand for the DVD, and I meekly handed it to him. “Perhaps you’d like a preview of it?”

I nodded, though I dreaded what I would see. He leaned over me to put the DVD into the slot on the side of my computer. I felt the heat from his arm. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to show little white-blond hairs peppering his muscled forearm. They looked so downy and innocent. Little did they know who they were attached to.

I watched, mesmerized, as he went through the steps to get the DVD to play. The image of a white-robed Asian man appeared. He spoke with an accent so thick it sounded like he’d just had a root canal.

“Welcome to Mastering Kung Fu. Rearn these ancient techniques that can transform your rife…”

“I bet you didn’t know Brian’s interested in martial arts.”

Numbly, I shook my head.

“This is my teacher. He’s trying to make a DVD but it isn’t out yet. Some obvious problems he’s trying to work out. I told Brian I’d get him an advance copy.”

“That was
so
nice of you.” Maybe if I pretended to properly appreciate his kindness he’d overlook my transgression.

He graced me with an ironic look. “Nice go, luv. But nothing doing. You disobeyed direct orders. You know as well as I do that you’ve earned yourself a punishment.”

Punishment.
The word had a way of sneaking through me and making my knees wobble. But I held firm.

“You can’t. Simon isn’t here.”

“Hmm, good point. No Simon. Well, that does put us in a tricky situation, doesn’t it? What shall we do?” He straightened up and wandered away from my desk. He moved like a panther, as if just under the skin lived something primitive and ungovernable. His haunches bunched under the gray cotton of his light summer trousers. I could practically picture his balls swinging back and forth with every step. Balls I’d held in my mouth like precious baby chicks. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from him.

“We could save up all your punishments for his return.” Idly, he played with the DVD case, slapping it gently against one palm as he paced.

Any chance Ethan would forget by the time Simon returned? Nope, the man had a mind like a mousetrap. I shook my head.

“No? I tend to agree. We can’t spend all our time on employee discipline. Here’s a thought. We could conference Simon in, via video perhaps. It’s a bit of a cheat, but he would be participating.”

“Present,” I squeaked. “Simon is supposed to be present. That means in the room. With us, not in some other room.”

“Was that the phrasing? Oh dear. Well, I consider it a challenge then. It’ll spur my creativity.” His eyes gleamed glacier blue. “I’ll come up with a proper punishment by tomorrow, never fear.” He tossed the DVD case on my desk. “Unless I make it utterly simple and replace this DVD with something more interesting.”

“No!” I scrambled to my feet. “Not that. Something else. I won’t fight it, I promise.”

“Fight it? I certainly hope you would know better than that.”

“I do. I do.” Puppet-like, I nodded.

As I had learned early on, waiting for punishment was so much worse than experiencing the punishment. My imagination would go wild with all the possibilities. I’d find it hard to concentrate on simple tasks like taking messages or brushing my teeth. And that increased the chance of more errors. And that got me more freaked. Except it wasn’t fear I felt. If it was just fear, it wouldn’t involve wild nighttime sex fantasies and drenched panties. Would it?

By the time Punishment Day dawned, I was kind of a wreck. I hadn’t gotten much sleep in between the crazed sex dreams. Taking my post at the receptionist’s desk, I reviewed my strategy. Shut up and take it, as long as Ethan stayed within the rules. In no time, the red light on my phone blinked.

“Come in to my office,” Ethan’s gravelly voice ordered. “Leave all your clothes on, please.”

Fully clothed for a punishment? That was new. Then again, it would have been against the rules to make me strip. Or would it? Come to think of it, we’d never spelled out the rules.

I tiptoed to the door of Ethan’s office. This was new too. I’d never been invited into Ethan’s domain. For all I knew, Blackbeard the Pirate lived in there. Or maybe Hitler’s body was stashed in the cabinets. I wouldn’t put anything past Mr. Ethan Cowell.

But it wasn’t anyone fictional or historical who greeted me as I opened the door. In fact, it took a moment to recognize her. Streaked blonde hair, splattered freckles, slim body set off with boobs the size of coconuts. Chantalette the Temp. I’d spent a torturous morning training her to fill in for me when I had a dentist appointment. And believe me when I say the dentist chair was a relief after that. She was useless. Even tied up, she looked lazy.

She hung limply from the coat hook on the wall, right next to Ethan’s trench coat. As if she’d flashed herself right out of the coat. Her fingers curled onto each other. Her pale skin glowed with a sheen of sweat reflected in the fluorescent lights. When she saw me, her first reaction of surprise was followed by a smug wink. As if to say, “guess all that training paid off.”