Madi draws in an audible breath. “I’m so sorry.” All innuendo is gone from her voice, and I’m instantly sorry I gave her a real reason for regret.
“It’s all right. He can handle it. And I can handle you. Expect punishment tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry about Eagle’s team. I can contact Genevieve and-“
“No,” I cut her off. “I said it’s handled. We’ll discuss the situation thoroughly tomorrow. Understand?”
“I went too far.”
“No. Keep testing me, Madi. I like it.”
Madi
The next morning, I have a smirk on my face when Tony comes to pick me up in the limo. My vanilla latte is waiting for me, and the first sip is enough to prime me for a fantastic morning.
Expect punishment tomorrow.
I wriggle in my seat. Under my work dress, my sex is warm and wet, imagining what delicious torment my boss has imagined for me today.
Tony crosses the Brooklyn Bridge, but when the time comes to take the turn towards the financial district, he takes a left towards the docks instead.
I lean forward to catch his attention. “We’re not going to the office?”
“No, Ms. Evans, I was ordered to bring you here.”
I check my calendar. A notification has popped up, alerting me that my day is blocked off for one long appointment. I click to find more details, and there are none.
Tony pulls up to a helicopter pad and escorts me to the pilot, who guides me towards the waiting chopper.
“This way, Ms. Evans.” He helps me into my seat and straps me in.
I expect him to wait for Brick to join me, but in a few minutes, we’re airborne. The last time I was in a helicopter, I was coming back from Berkshires. Is that where we’re going? My calendar and email don’t give me any clues.
I guess not knowing is part of my punishment.
We fly over the Hudson river and leave the city behind. I work as best as I can on my tablet, but as we approach what looks like the thick, wooded area of upper state New York, my trepidation grows. Am I being flown out to the Blackthroat residence again? Will Brick’s family be there? It’s a workday, and I can’t imagine why I’d be needed there.
I was looking forward to my punishment, but that would be real torture.
My tension grows as the helicopter approaches a gorgeous Tudor style mansion on a hilltop. Built of light brown brick, it looks similar to the Blackthroat ancestral home. Just past it are several long low white buildings arranged around a bright blue outdoor pool. From above the whole place looks like a fine estate, complete with gardens and patios and winding rock pathways that connect everything.
We land some distance away, on a blue slab of pavement bound by a lush green field. I wait for the pilot to help me out, and he points me to the edge of the helicopter pad where a white woman in a purple-gray smock waves to me.
“Welcome to Miravelle Resort,” she greets me. She’s holding a binder and makes no move to shake my hand. “I’m Jennifer, and I’ll be your spa attendant today. How was your flight?”
Spa attendant?
“Fast,” I say. Before I can ask what’s going on, she beams and says, “Right this way.”
I follow her down the pea-gravel path toward one of the white buildings. Even in the dead of winter, the landscaping is immaculate, with elegant white birch trees rising over a carpet of purple heather and evergreen shrubs. “This is a spa?”
“And a wellness resort.” She hurries ahead to open a door for me revealing an inner walkway lined with indoor fountains and shining geode crystals larger than me. I want to stand and gape, but for Jennifer’s sake, I hustle through. It’s chilly today, with snow on the ground, and she’s not wearing a coat. Her round cheeks are pink with cold.
I check my phone again. “Is there a meeting here or…?”
“Oh no.” She opens the next set of doors and sweeps out a hand. “Your boss booked the whole spa for you today. You’re getting a sampling of all our top treatments.” She flips open the binder and shows me my itinerary, starting with a body wrap and facial, and ending with a massage and relaxation time in the saunas and serenity pool. I’m grateful she’s so excited to explain all this because I’m still in shock. I expected Brick to dish out something awful and epic, but I never expected this.
Tears smart my eyes. “My boss booked all of this…for me?” Oh God, what is happening?
“Yes.” Jennifer closes the binder with a snap and hugs it to her ample chest. “He said you’ve been working hard on a project and deserve it.”
“He said that?”
“Well, it was implied.” Her eyes take a dreamy cast. “You’re so lucky to work for him. He sounds like the greatest boss ever. So generous.”
“He’s….something, all right.” My chest is unaccountably tight. My eyes are still smarting.
I don’t understand what’s happening right now. I pushed the envelope by giving everyone the week off, recklessly testing my boss. The moment I heard my actions had caused a real dilemma, I regretted them. It’s completely unlike me to make a rash or impractical decision. Especially one that would result in my punishment.
Clearly, I’m losing sight of what’s at all within the bounds of appropriateness at work.
But I expected more punishment or funishment at best. Maybe I was testing my unfireability. Possibly, I was subconsciously trying to get fired to end this relationship before it destroys me.
I never expected a lavish reward like this. I expected more tit for tat. I misbehaved. I thought there might be a sexy reprimand. This? This feels too much like a reward.
Or worse-unthinkable-too much like a relationship.
Things are definitely getting out of hand.
Jennifer takes my coat and gets me a cup of tea to enjoy while she gives me a tour of the spa amenities. In the empty dressing room, she lays out a spa robe and flip flops for me to change into.
A few hours later, I’m buffed and polished and limp. A massage therapist has squeezed all the tension from my neck and shoulders.
I’m drifting on a purple-gray lounger in the relaxation room when Jennifer reappears with another cup of herbal tea.
“How was the massage?”
“Blissful.” I stretch like I’ve just woken up.
“You’re welcome to nap here or try the pool. We have a few bathing suits in our shop, if you’d like to try them. Or we have this selection of lounge wear if you prefer.” She holds up a hanger holding a soft-looking pair of flowy white pants, paired with a silky gown covered in a gorgeous print of flowers and peacocks. A tag flutters out of the sleeve, and my eyes pop at the price.
“Oh, it’s all complimentary,” she says, reading my expression correctly. “You have a shop credit as well.”
I have to hand it to Brick. When he does something, he goes all in.
“Well, in that case, I’ll take that outfit. And a bathing suit.”
The indoor-outdoor pool area is just as luxurious as the rest of the spa. I float in the heated water, even venturing a brief swim outside to watch the steam shimmer between me and the snow banks.
I end up back in the dimly lit relaxation room, dozing to the sound of running water. There are loungers for thirty people, but I’m the only one here.
My phone is silenced in my locker, but I’m tempted to text Brick and tease him about finally taking the time to show his employees he appreciates them.
Except I shouldn’t be here. I can’t encourage this sort of behavior. It’s above and beyond what a Big Bad Boss would do. I told myself I wouldn’t catch feelings for Brick. I’m just using him.
As soon as I curl up under the fluffy spa blanket and close my eyes for a nap, my brain conjures up a fantasy of Brick.
He’s been using me for sex every day, and my body is primed for it. I can smell his woodsy cologne and imagine him leaning over me. Dark and handsome, he’d glower at everything in this room as if it offended him. And he’d turn that delicious glare on me…
“Dreaming of me?” he growls above me.
I smile, still caught in my fantasy, when a large hand clamps on my foot where it’s slipped from the blanket.
Instead of freaking out, I inhale more of his wild scent and open my eyes. Brick looms over me, his face in shadow.
I knew it was him.
“Mr. Blackthroat.” I smile. “Are you here for a massage?”
Even in the dark room, I can see his flat expression. But he settles on the edge of my lounger, still holding my foot captive, so I decide to tease him. “Or are you here to order me to relax?”
“If I did, would you obey?”
“Mmm, depends on what mood I’m in.”
“You’ve been particularly impertinent these last few weeks.”
Oh here it is. The punish the naughty secretary game he promised. My favorite game. This is safe territory for us.
“You love it. You rewarded me with a whole spa day.” I wave at the trickling fountain. “If this is punishment, I’d like more. A lot more.”
“Oh you’ll get more.” He leans closer, sliding his hand up my bare leg. This is more like it.
“But really, this was too much.”
“Well, I need my assistant in top shape, so I can work her harder.”
My sex clenches. “You do work me hard.”
“So hard.”
I stretch out, still feeling languid from my day of relaxation. The blanket flops to the ground, giving him a full view of me in my new bathing suit. The bikini is a little smaller than what I’d normally wear, and when I move, the thin strip of fabric between my legs slips, giving him a peek of my pussy.
His eyes gleam in the dark.
I move my foot, so it’s propped on his thigh. I can’t believe I’m being so bold. Lemongrass tea must make me shameless. “Maybe you need a day of relaxation.”
“Lying around isn’t my style. I prefer something more…vigorous.” And he reaches out and tugs the string of my bikini top, making my breasts pop out of the triangles. My nipples harden as they’re exposed to the air. My abs tighten, and my core begins to throb.
“Why Mr. Blackthroat,” -I make my voice high and breathy- “whatever do you mean?”
“Let me show you.” With his hands on my calves, he slides me down, so I’m flat on my back. He climbs over me, planting his hands by my shoulders and moving so his big body hovers over mine. Up close, I can see his hair is tousled, unruly. I reach up to smooth it, and he catches my wrist, pinning it beside my head.
Now I’m panting. His fingers are rough on my bare skin as he skims his free hand down my side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
He’s drinking in the sight of me half naked. “This is hardly appropriate work attire, Ms. Evans.”
“No? I kind of like it.” I wriggle my hips, and the bikini bottoms slide over my slick labia.
“You better not wear it in front of anyone but me.” His possessive stare takes my breath away. “Or else.”
“Or else…what?”
His growl makes me shiver. He reaches down and fists the bikini bottoms, tugging them so they’re tight between my pussy lips. He pulls harder, flossing the fabric against my clit. I writhe, and he drops his chest, pinning my upper torso while still keeping his full weight off me. He watches my face closely as he works the bathing suit like a rope between my legs. It’s perfect and painful, and he knows just how to twist the cloth to torture me. In the dim light, his eyes seem to glow.
The stimulation makes me writhe under him. I rock from side to side, but there’s no escape, just the friction of my bare breasts against the expensive Italian cotton of his shirt.
“Oh, fuck.” My orgasm is there, just out of reach. My chest is flushing, my breasts growing hot and tight.
“I don’t know if you deserve to come,” he taunts. “You’ve been so bad.”
If I don’t come soon I’ll die. “Oh my God, please…”
Light flares in his eyes, and he rips the bathing suit off. I cry out, wanting more, and then his mouth is on me. His beard is rough on my sensitive skin, and the discomfort combined with his lush tongue pushes me over.
My orgasm wrenches me in half, but I don’t have time to recover before he’s on me, wrenching open his pants, so he can thrust inside me. The stretch makes me gasp-he’s so big, it takes me a moment to adjust, but I’m sopping wet, and in no time, he’s driving into me, rooting so deep I can feel him in my throat.
Orgasm after orgasm rips through me, one rolling into the next until I’m shuddering nonstop. And still Brick rocks into me. The lounger cushions slide sideways off the frame, and we both go with it. We land on the floor, and he just flips me over to hands and knees, and keeps fucking me senseless. I push back against him until I’m too limp to hold myself up. He pulls me up by my hair and grinds against my bottom, filling me with his cum.
I’m out of breath like I’ve run up ten flights of stairs. My throat is hoarse, my cries ringing in my ears.
And I’m boneless in a way a million massages couldn’t achieve.
Brick lifts me carefully and carries me to a new lounger. He disappears and returns with a warm cloth to clean my dripping pussy. “Now you see why I reserved the whole place?”
Oh God. I’m in way over my head. I’m too spent to do anything but nod.
* * *
My spa day ends with Brick bundling me up and guiding me to his helicopter. John Acker’s in the pilot seat, and I wave, wondering whether he’s curious why Brick flew all the way out here himself to pick me up. He’s probably paid enough not to be curious.
Still it sits a little weird with me.
Brick and I fly back in silence. He spends the whole time on his phone while I gaze out the window at the setting sun. When we reach the landing pad and the limo, I expect him to go a separate way. But he slides into the backseat beside me.
The fading light gilds his handsome face. There was a strangely bright sheen to his eyes at Miravelle, but now it’s gone.
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