Page 2 of Hooked

Refusing to answer her own pointed question, she reached back with both hands and tugged her pencil skirt up her thighs. It was no easy task. The snugness increased as the material bunched up, the path becoming more difficult as it traversed her curvy hips and rounded behind. Once she had it high around her waist, she paused.

She’d worn sheer hose and a garter belt. Did he want those down, too? She was about to ask when he beat her to the punch.

“The stockings and garters may stay. They look lovely against your creamy skin, but the panties must go. Pull them down to mid-thigh and keep them there.”

As she tugged down her lace and mesh, high-rise bikini briefs, the gusset got caught between her thighs. She had to wiggle and spread her legs to release them. Mortified, Livia bit her bottom lip to contain a moan. What a lewd and jiggly sight that must have been.

As she shifted, cool air brushed against her wet pussy and inner thighs. She wondered if he noticed how aroused she was. Could he see the evidence of her desire on the soaked satin or smell her lustful scent?

“Good girl,” he murmured, stepping closer.

She managed to suppress a groan at his praise, but her control was further tested when his warm hand ran over her bottom cheeks. She failed as a shudder swept through her needy body.

He did not mention her reaction. Instead, he continued with his instructions. “I expect you to behave while receiving your punishment as well. No blocking or squirming, and no name-calling directed at me or any of my ancestors. You will hold your position for the count of one hundred.”

“One hundred!” she exclaimed in dismay.

“I pay you well for precision and won’t tolerate sloppiness or mistakes.” His large hand glided over her taut globes and down to her thighs, his fingertips wandering dangerously close to her center. He’d find her wet, which would increase her mortification. She had a brief reprieve when he announced, “We’ll begin with a hand spanking.”

But the implication there would be more soon had her imagination running wild. What would follow? A paddle? His belt? Or one of the rattan canes he kept in an umbrella stand in the corner of his office.

As she pondered the course of her punishment, from the corner of her eye, she saw him draw back his broad hand. Alongside her dread, a thrill of excitement rushed through her, channeling more liquid heat to her pussy.

Dear heaven! She was a grown woman, a professional. Did she actually want him to punish her like a willful child?

Although her rational mind shouted,no!her highly aroused body screamed,Hell, yes!Having him touch her in every way possible was her dream come true.

Her breath froze in her chest as she waited with carnal anticipation for his hand to land the first solid spank.

Screech! Clack, clack. Crunch!

The harsh, grating noises made her jump, which jarred her from her daydream. So lost in her erotic fantasy, the sudden movement sent her off-balance, and she almost fell off her chair. Once she steadied herself, her head snapped around to identify the source. No big shock. It was her printer and another damn paper jam.

“Just when I was getting to the best part, too,” Livia grumbled.

She’d given up on the recurring fantasy ever becoming a reality for many reasons. Joseph was a consummate professional and had never been what she would call stern with her, nor did he find fault in her work. She never gave him a reason to.

Livia took pride in her work and paid meticulous attention to detail. Everything she presented to her boss, whether court documents, discovery binders, his transcribed notes, or something as simple as an interoffice memo, was tidy and precise, like her desk and attire. Furthermore, he had an umbrella in the stand in his office, not whippy canes for disciplining his staff.

She drew a deep breath while covertly rubbing her hard nipples with her forearms. Looking down, there they were, clearly visible through her lace bra and silk blouse. Anyone she crossed paths with would notice.

Forcing herself to focus on her work, she turned to battle her nemesis: the hated all-in-one wireless printer.

After ten minutes of picking out bits of paper and resetting the infernal machine, cursing it the whole while under her breath, a page of labels shot out into the tray. She speedily affixed the stickers to the remaining envelopes.

With her last task of the day completed, Livia glanced at the wall clock again and did some quick calculations. She would be home in twenty minutes. With an hour to shower, do her hair and makeup, and another two hours for the drive from Austin, she would arrive at the club by eight thirty.

“Plenty of time,” she murmured as she slid the weighed and stamped envelopes into the outgoing tray.

She tidied up, putting away the envelopes and extra labels then logged out of her computer. “Only one more thing to do, and I’m out of here.”

Livia reached for her desk phone and depressed the intercom button, frowning upon noticing a chip in her newly polished nails. The gel manicure she had gotten last night was supposed to last weeks, not hours.

Faintly, she heard the buzz in the next office.

A moment later, a deep voice answered, “Yes, Olivia?”

“I’m leaving for the day, sir.”

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