Page 51 of The Boss

“Babe.” She slams her hand against her wife’s arm. “Be right back. Bathroom.”

She starts a chain reaction. One by one, people get up and mill around the crowded lounge. One of Ms. Coleman’s local friendshas stopped by after hearing someone is in town. Ms. Oduya sits in a corner and gets some work done. Ms. Bradford occasionally flirts with her before turning to groups sitting around tables and waitresses in need of attention, clearly.

Julianna gets up and motions for me to walk with her through the crowded lounge. She keeps one arm around me until we reach Ms. Moreau sitting at the bar, complimenting the bartender for the excellent drink. Someone’s getting a nice tip tonight.

“My further apologies for the mix-up today, Danica,” Julianna says. Ms. Moreau gives her undivided attention but keeps one eye on the goings-on of the room. “Alessa has assured me that it won’t happen again.”

Ms. Moreau gives me a look I’ve yet to see from her tonight. Critical. In one glance, she’s both undressed me and punished me for my gaffe earlier. Now, I know this woman owns a BDSM sex club on the east coast but…

What are we mixed up in, exactly?

Julianna senses the same look from our guest and tightens her grip on me. Possessive. The kind of possessive that’s been turning me on as of late, but this is different. She’s both protecting me from Ms. Moreau’s critical, domineering gaze and making a statement.

I feel like a sacrificial lamb, honestly. One that is about to get the knife if I don’t bleat loudly enough to rouse some sympathy from the surrounding wolves.

Ms. Moreau catches on quickly. “My off-the-record advice is that you truly make sure it doesn’t happen again, Marcon. I don’t come out all this way for sloppy scheduling. As much as I enjoy giving Coleman a good-natured ribbing and staring at her gorgeous wife, I’d much rather have my business associates to myself, if you catch my drift.” She finishes her drink and shoots me another critical gaze. “Although I will say I’m a bit jealous.Wish I had as lovely of a lady to punish tonight.” She slips off her stool, taking her empty glass with her toward the bathroom.

I’m frozen, shocked. Julianna clutches me to her so tightly that I can barely breathe.

“Julianna… are you…”

“Gonna let her say things like that?” Her lips touch my hairline. “Yes. You know why?”

“…No.”

Her hand slips down my ass, squeezing until I’m almost knocked off my heels. “Because she’s right. You need to be punished for what happened today. I could’ve been in serious trouble. They both could have pulled out their promises of funding and left Presley and me high and dry. That would’ve been big trouble.”

“I’m so sorry. I swear it will never…”

She gently taps the bottom of my ass.

Chapter 22

Alessa

It doesn’t hurt at all. In fact, the motion itself is so nothing that there’s no way anyone else in this lounge saw it happen. But I felt it.The intentions.

She wants to. Punish me, that is.

“I should do it right here, Lessa.” That growl fills my veins with both dread and arousal. I don’t doubt that she’s aroused. This is exactly the kind of thing that turns her on. “I should bend you over right here in front of all of these nice, well-to-do people and spank your ass red until I’m good and sure you’ll never do something like that again.”

“I…” She’s spanked me during sex. Makes it sweeter, you know? I thought that was the real reason for spanking in the bedroom.

This, though? This is… different. This is her flexing her power in our relationship. Something tells me to run. That this is a red flag. That her insinuating she should spank me in public,humiliate me in front of Portland’s high-society and their guests, is a huge sign that she doesn’t respect me and only sees me as a plaything.

So… why the fuck am I turned on right now?

Is this part of my transformation into submissive Alessa? The one who likes serving my girlfriend in the bedroom? Am I so far down a dark well that I am liable to drown if someone doesn’t pull me up soon?

What the fuck do I do?

“What do you have to say for yourself, Lessa?”

Every time she calls me that, I’m reminded of what’s going on here. This is a sex game. Nothing more. Certainly nothing less.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Marcon. I… I’m also a bit nervous.”

“Scared?”

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