Page 29 of Hooked

“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 WEEKENDflew 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.”

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