Page 11 of Bully

But Sloane being tardy, burned somewhere else too. My dick twitched in my slacks as I prepared to have her in my space all alone. I knew she’d show up, eventually, but I also knew she was making me wait in a power play.

The woman was a Domme, in a lot of different ways. And she was proving it with each second of time spent making me wait.

As if my thoughts summoned her, the ding of the elevator in the foyer made me pause near the giant windows overlooking the city below.

Go time.

She was the only one on the approved list of guests to have free access to my suite, and as her heels clicked across the marble floor, bringing her closer to me, I schooled the monster in my chest aching to take over and regain the upper hand immediately.

When she cleared the wall and entered the open living space, she paused, looking around the expansive space before finally finding me against the windows. Somehow, she looked even sexier today than she did last night in lingerie and stilettos. I let my eyes travel up her body, starting at her feet wearing black motorcycle boots with gold buckles, up her long dancer legs in skintight black jeans. Then up to her torso covered in a dressy jacket, the color of blood that tied around her waist brushing her upper thighs. It left me wondering what she’d look like coming to my door in just that jacket and a pair of red bottom heels to match. Dammit, there came another one of those random erections she caused me. Her hair was down in soft waves that made it look like cotton candy around her flawless face and molten eyes as she eyed me cautiously.

“You’re late.” I greeted her.

She raised one eyebrow at me and laid her large purse down on a chair and undid her jacket, before sliding it off her shoulders. She wore a gold tank top that matched her eyes perfectly and hugged her lush tits and narrow waist like a second skin. “You’ll have to adjust your expectations when you give me instructions less than twelve hours before a meeting.”

“Interesting theory.” I walked away from the window and picked up my cup of coffee off the table to drink it, motioning for her to join me around the large surface covered in paperwork. “This is a list of employees currently receiving a paycheck from me in exchange for nothing.” I handed her a packet with everyone listed as I glanced at my watch. “Choose sixteen names off that list to fire, effective immediately.”

Her eyes snapped up to mine as her brows knitted in fury, the packet falling to the tabletop from her fingers like it burned her. “For what?”

“For every minute that you were late.” I walked back around the table and took a seat, sipping my coffee. “I told you that tardiness would not be tolerated, yet you chose to defy me. Face the consequences for it like an adult.” I nodded to the paper again and then held her angry stare. “Choose, or I will.”

“You’re evil.” She hissed. “I’m sorry for being late.”

“No, you’re not, you did it on purpose to challenge me.” I replied evenly before leaning forward on my elbows to finish, “And yes, I am evil. Something you’d do well to remember.”

“You’re punishing them for my choice.” She shook her head and swallowed, giving away how much stress the topic put on her. “That’s terrible leadership. And an awful start to a fresh beginning.”

Leaning back in my chair, I took another sip and set my cup down. “Then convince me to keep them and punish you instead. Should I fire you instead for your own transgression?”

She took a deep breath, making the fabric of her shimmering top hug her breasts even more, though I doubt that was her plan. “There isn’t anyone else on that list that can do this job as well as I can, and I think you know that already. But if you need to fire me to prove to yourself that you’re in charge, then that’s what you’re going to have to do. Because I won’t be responsible for sixteen people being unable to feed their families.”

I mulled that over, hating how quickly she offered to sacrifice herself for others. Didn’t she realize that, more than likely, no one else in that place would have done the same for her? Was it all a bluff, in hopes that I’d fold before she did?

Leaning across the table, I picked up a blue folder and opened it before tossing it right in front of her. “Right or left?”

Sloane squinted those molten eyes once more before giving in and looking down at the drawings laid out in the blue folder. She glanced back up at me and then leaned forward, resting her hands on the table as she looked more closely at the front sign renderings I had made. I needed to choose a design by the end of the day, and I was stuck.

She must have realized that it was her out of having to choose others to fire, and took a deep breath before replying. “Right.”

“Why?”

Shrugging, Sloane stood back up to her full height. “It’s more feminine and classy. The other one looks like a game show logo from the seventies.”

She wasn’t wrong, but the drawing on the left was bolder and more eye-catching, whereas the one on the right was softer and didn’t give away anything aside from the name.

The word “Prism,” written on what looked like a piece of glass, hung like a sun catcher, casting pastel rainbows against the building.

It was perfect.

I stood up and rounded the table, taking the folder from her and setting it aside, without telling her if I liked her choice or not. I took the next folder of decisions I needed to make asap to build them on time and held it out to her; she responded by rolling her eyes, walking to my seat, sitting down, and extending her hand.

“How many decisions are you stuck on?”

I hesitated, with the folder in the air, as I felt the power she was trying to take back from me with that question. But in reality, design details overwhelmed me. I didn’t care what color the walls were, as much as I did about the material laying on the floor everyone would see when they first walked in. My brain didn’t work that way. But Sloane, on the other hand, had a degree in interior design. She was the perfect person to help.

I handed the folder across the space, “A lot.”

“Color me surprised,” She opened the folder and took a deep breath, eying up the swatches of fabrics laid out. “Start telling me what I’m looking at so I can help you.”

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