Lessons in Love

by Kathryn R. Blake

  "She scurried out from under the desk and rushed over to me. After I handed her the folder, she literally ran back to Rob, who remained standing outside his office. Her sides still heaving with exertion, she offered it to him."

  Pam could well imagine the scene and covered her mouth with her hand. "I hesitate to ask, but what did he say?"

  He took a deep breath, said thank you, then added, 'The next time I ask you to do something, Kathy, I expect you to walk, not run. We don't run on this floor unless someone's life is in danger. Understand?'

  "She bobbed her head several times, thanked him, and slunk back to her desk where she's been trying to put everything back together since. I don't think she's straightened it out, yet."

  "Perhaps I could offer to help her."

  "Sure you want to risk it?" Krista asked with a smile.

  Pam laughed. "Of course. Because I don't intend to get caught with you as my lookout."

  Pam strode over to the young woman who was busily sorting through a stack of files on the floor and stuck her hand out. "Hi, Kathy. I'm Pam Weston." The terrified secretary shot to her feet and stared at Pam as if she confronted a ghost.

  "Oh, Miss Weston. I am so sorry, I didn't see you there. I hope you weren't kept waiting long. Please, take a seat in Mr. Peterson's office. I'll find him right away for you—"

  Pam put her hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Calm down, Kathy. It's all right. I just left a meeting with Mr. Peterson. He knows where I am, and I don't need to see him. I came over to ask if you'd like some assistance."

  "Oh. Um, no, Miss Weston. I mean, I'm fine. May I offer you something to drink?"

  "No. Thank you. And call me Pam." Krista was right. Kathy Martel was sweet, but she needed to get a grip or Rob would chew her up and spit her out like a chunk of undercooked meat.

  "Did anyone mention I had this job previously?"

  "Yes, Miss…. I mean, Pam. Mr. Peterson explained you were on a leave of absence, and that no one was to bother you, but if you called we were to get him right away."

  "Yes, Krista told me." Krista let out a soft cough at that point, so she must have overheard her name mentioned. "So, what can I do to help get these files back in order?"

  Kathy turned even paler, if that was possible. "Um, nothing, Pam. Really. I'm sorry everything is such a mess, but I'll get it straightened out before you return. I promise."

  Pam got down on her knees. "Why don't we work on it together? The task will go much quicker with two of us doing it." She reached for one of the files Kathy had tossed on the floor, when Krista began frantically clearing her throat as if she'd been overtaken by a sudden coughing fit. Realizing what that meant, Pam started to rise when she felt a pair of strong legs move in right behind her, making it so she'd bump into him if she moved back any farther. Pam swallowed uneasily as Kathy stared up, her expression panic stricken.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "Did you drop something, Miss Weston?" Rob Peterson asked, his tone indicating he knew precisely what she was up to and fully intended to extract a price for her disobedience.

  "No, sir," she answered, hemmed in between him and the file drawer in front of her.

  "May I ask what you are doing on the floor, then?"

  "Um. Kathy dropped some files, and I was helping her pick them up. That's all."

  "Uh huh." He shifted back a foot. "Step into my office for a moment, will you, please?"

  With a nod, Pam started to rise when he clasped her arm to help her up, moved his grip to her elbow, and escorted her inside before he shut the door with a decisive click.

  "Take a seat," he said pleasantly. "You and I need to have a chat about what I mean by 'no work.'" He stepped behind his desk, took out a ruler, set it down on the leather blotter before him, and sat.

  Pam swallowed as she clutched the arms on her chair and stared at her boss.

  He leaned forward. "I assume you're still a bit sore from this morning's activities?"

  "Um. A little."

  Acknowledging her reply with a dip of his head, he drew out his phone. "Paul. I believe I left a small paper sack filled with—You did? Where?" He opened his desk's right bottom drawer and pulled out a small white bag. "Got it. Thanks, as always. You read my mind." After pocketing his cell, he redirected his attention to Pam.

  "There are two ways we can do this. First of all, do you agree you disobeyed me?"

  "I was only trying to help," she answered lamely.

  "A noble intention, but what were the orders I gave you?"

  "No work until I'm released by the doctor."

  "Correct. And, would you classify what you were doing as work?"

  "We weren't discussing any cases."

  "That wasn't what I asked, was it?"

  "No, sir."

  "Then answer my question, please."

  "Yes. I would consider filing to be work."

  "Good. We agree then. And working, as well-intentioned as your actions might be, constitutes a violation of our insurance policy as well as disobedience to me. Correct?"

  Pam shrugged. "I guess so."

  "You guess so." He pushed back from his desk and patted his thighs. "Come here, Pam."

  "Rob, I—"

  "Unh unh. During discipline sessions, I insist you call me Mr. Peterson, or sir. It will help put you in the proper frame of mine for what is to follow."

  "Please don't, sir."

  "What did I say about your obedience to my commands?"

  "It's unconditional."

  "And?"

  "Hesitation can earn me a stricter punishment."

  "Is that what you wish?"

  "No, of course not." He raised his eyebrows, so she corrected herself. "No, sir."

  "Then I suggest you come over here."

  With a groan, Pam stood and walked over to stand before him.

  "Thank you." Hands on her waist, he drew her down to sit on his lap. Pam let out a huge sigh of relief and laid her head against his chest.

  "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

  Though Pam shook her head, a part of her didn't believe she was home free, yet.

  "How sore are you?" he whispered in her ear.

  Blushing, she admitted, "Everything sort of burns. My skin feels sensitive and tender."

  Reaching around her he opened the bag and pulled out a jar of the coconut cream. "Recognize what this is?" His voice was sinfully soft, as if he was whispering naughty things to her in bed. Just his tone created an itchy tingle between her legs.

  "The balm."

  "Correct. So, here's what we can do. We can go into my bathroom together, where you'll remove your skirt and panties then bend over while I examine you and apply the cream if it looks as if you need it. You will do everything I ask without hesitation or complaint. Agree to that, and do fifteen minutes corner time afterward, and we'll consider your disobedience addressed."

  "And am I to be given an alternative?"

  He lifted up the ruler. "Ten with this, then we'll go into the bathroom where I'll check you out and apply the cream."

  "So either way I submit to your examination?"

  "The lady is quick."

  "I'll take the first option."

  "Wise choice. Now, up."

  Once they were situated, Rob shut the door and stepped over to wash his hands. "Okay. Everything off from the waist down, then lean over the sink."

  Pam slowly did as he instructed, even widening her legs when he asked. His following examine was intimate, thorough, and highly embarrassing as he inserted his fingers and stroked every orifice she had with the balm, concentrating on the section above and between her thighs before he spread her bottom cheeks and gently worked around and inside her anus. Though the area was still raw, the cream helped remove some of the sting but did absolutely nothing for the heated blush his penetrating digits brought to her face. Despite her embarrassment, his thorough attention to detail caused her entire body to grow warmer by the second. Not only that, an increasing amount of moisture began t
o collect between her legs. The man was deliberately turning her on. Unable to help herself, she let out a soft moan and moved her hips in time with his strokes.

  With her back pressed to his front, Pam sensed more than heard his chuckle before he gave her backside a light pat and said, "Good girl. I'm sure that was difficult for you, and I'm proud of the way you handled it. You may get dressed, but lower your panties down around your knees and tuck your skirt up as you do your corner time." Leaning over, he washed his hands again.

  Wincing, she met his gaze through the mirror. "Is that really necessary, sir?"

  "Whether it is or not, that's what I ordered you to do, and I expect you to obey my instructions without complaint. Understand?" he asked, drying his fingers on a hand towel.

  When she nodded, he gave her chin a tap in warning. An inappropriate response.

  "Yes, sir," she mumbled drawing her panties up beneath her skirt before she stepped back into his office.

  "You can stand over there." He pointed to her usual corner. "I'll let you know when your time is up."

  Pam strode over to the area in question, adjusted her clothing as directed, and put her nose to the wall as tears ran down her cheeks. He hadn't hurt her, so it was stupid to cry, but the day had taken its emotional toll on her psyche and she felt as if she drifted alone, without purpose or anchor.

  Moments later the warmth of his body enveloped her as he stood at her back and placed a handful of tissues in her palm. Then he ran his hand up and down the length of her spine in a soothing motion.

  "I'm not angry," he assured. "I just need to make sure this punishment is uncomfortable enough for you not to attempt a repeat without adding to your physical discomfort." He hesitated for a moment then added, "I'm proud of you, Pam. For your bravery at the spa as well as the way you stood up to your mother downstairs. Neither of which was easy for you, I'm sure."

  His words and gentle stroking reassured her, and she calmed. Yes, the position he insisted she take was embarrassing, but a little humiliation wasn't unreasonable given she had knowingly disobeyed him. When he remained stationed at her back, she said, "Krista said you were traveling tomorrow."

  "Ah, yes. I am. I was going to discuss my plans with you over dinner."

  "You asked her to stay with me?"

  "I did. I could have asked Mrs. Andrews to keep watch over you, but I thought you and Krista would have more fun."

  "You think I need a babysitter?"

  "Calm your hissing, kitten. Part of my duty as your guardian is to make sure you are supervised 24/7, either by me or someone I trust."

  "You shouldn't take Krista away from her work."

  "Is she complaining?"

  Pam snorted. "No."

  "Then neither should you. We've had this discussion before, Pam. As the boss, I get to decide how people spend their time, not you."

  Sighing, she rested her forehead against the corner and relaxed. The fact that he came over to reassure her, rather than let her suffer in silence, made her time much less of an ordeal. However, when he lowered his hand, she tensed.

  "Time's up," he said, helping her rearrange her clothes. "Tired?" he asked when she stifled a yawn.

  "No, I'm fine."

  The swat was unexpected enough, she yelped and moved her hand back to rub, but he caught her wrist.

  "No, you let that one sting for a bit. Saying you're fine when you're clearly exhausted is unacceptable, and you know it."

  "Sorry, sir," she murmured, forgetting what a stickler he was about total honesty.

  His long fingers curved around her nape in a possessive, yet reassuring gesture. "Better."

  Turning, she noted his countenance held nothing but warm concern and decided she'd take advantage of his agreeable mood. "How do you like Kathy?"

  His eyebrows shot up. "You need another fifteen minutes in the corner, young lady?"

  "No. Why? What did I do?" His expression suggested she think about it for a moment. "You're kidding. Can't I even ask about the people here?"

  "No, you may not." At her frustrated sigh, he added, "I need to have a few words with Adam about tomorrow. Why don't you stretch out on the couch and try to rest. I shouldn't be longer than a half hour."

  "Maybe I could—"

  "Pam, though I offered my request as a suggestion, trust me, it's not up for negotiation."

  "Yes, sir." Too tired to argue, she let him lead her to his office sofa, position a pillow for her and cover her up with the blanket he kept stored in a hidden drawer beneath the furniture.

  He placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Good girl. Rest."

  He stepped out, and, mere seconds later, Krista poked her head in.

  "You all right?"

  Pam sat up. "I'm fine."

  "Did he—"

  "No. I got the lecture and some corner time, but no real punishment." She didn't mention their bathroom activity since it was still too intimate for her.

  "Good. You didn't do anything all that wrong, you know?"

  "Depends on whom you ask."

  Krista chuckled. "You look tired. Go ahead and rest. I'll see you tomorrow." Pam agreed and, within a minute, she was sound asleep.

  Rob's half-hour lingered into the early evening, so it was dark by the time he gently shook her awake

  "Sorry. Took longer than I thought it would."

  "What time is it?" she asked as he helped her sit up.

  "Seven. Mrs. Andrews has dinner ready, so we'd best get going. Feeling more rested?"

  Pam nodded, though in truth she felt like she'd been drugged.

  Rob tucked her hand in his elbow and escorted her to where Paul waited for them in the car.

  "Paul," Rob offered in greeting as he assisted Pam into the back.

  "Has he been waiting here for us all day for us? Doesn't he have anything else to do?"

  "No and yes. Paul performs many duties for me, so I called to let him know when we were ready to leave." After insisting she put on her seat belt, he wrapped an arm about her shoulders and drew her against his side.

  "Both Paul and Della are totally at your beck and call, aren't they?"

  "I don't take advantage of their services, Pam. If they need or want to do something, I am more than willing to make other arrangements."

  Pam stifled another yawn. "So, did you kick my mother out of the building?"

  He glanced down at her. "No. I politely saw all our guests out the front door."

  Giving an unladylike snort, Pam murmured, "I can't believe her gall thinking she could get you to pay for the privilege of keeping me."

  "Hmm."

  "I mean, you weren't at fault for my lousy judgment that night. If anything, you saved my life. Why would she think you'd give her money to keep her mouth shut?"

  "Headlines like CEO's Admin Attempts Suicide by Overdose are not anything an executive wants to see plastered across the newspaper. Reputations can be fragile, and I own a PR Firm, so I need to be especially careful my activities do not reflect badly on my company or my clients."

  "Yeah, but that wasn't what happened. Surely there are ways you could refute an article like that and get them to print a retraction."

  "Retractions get buried on page seven, long after the damage is done. They are practically useless."

  She pulled away to gaze at him. "So, what are you saying? You're willing to pay someone to keep from tarnishing your reputation?"

  "No, I'm only admitting the negative publicity garnered through a public hearing can prove far more damaging than the trial itself."

  "Her threats were idle, Rob. She doesn't have the money needed to launch a case against you, much less a smear campaign."

  "Well, it's not anything we need worry about any longer, anyway."

  Pam crossed her arms over her chest. "Why not? What did you do?"

  "Who says I did anything? I'm merely trying to reassure you that you're safe."

  "I wasn't ever in danger, Rob Peterson. My reputation was ruined long ago, thanks in part to my l
oving mother's support. Did you pay her?"

  "You make it sound like underhanded bribery. It's called settling out of court, and there's no shame in it."

  "You're joking, right? Tell me you didn't offer that conniving leech money to keep silent."

  "How did we get off on this subject?"

  "You're attempting to change the topic, aren't you? How much did you give the parasite?"

  "That's enough, Pam. Your tone is quickly becoming unacceptable. This isn't your concern."

  "The hell it isn't, and you can take my tone and shove it up—"

  His fingers gripped her arms, cutting off her rant. "I was hoping to spare you this…."

  Before she could even launch a protest, Rob had her seatbelt undone and Pam over his knees with her skirt up and panties down, letting her know, without question, that she had overstepped her bounds.

  Each firm smack was accompanied with a brief lecture on what she could, should, couldn't, and shouldn't do. Though his spankings normally hurt, this one was especially painful because of the emotional impact his words delivered on her already sore buttocks.

  After the tenth strike, Pam started to squirm, but he showed no sign of relenting. She was never to question his business decisions. Her tone should always remain respectful, even when she was upset. Swearing was not allowed under any circumstance, and the list went on and on.

  By the time he approached twenty, Pam no longer held back her tears. She'd been too angry in the beginning to let his disapproval get to her, but when he started in on her show of blatant disrespect, she realized he viewed her questions as an insult to him as her guardian and boss. She'd never intended to offend him, but she couldn't believe he'd pay her mother off, when the woman not only didn't have a case, she had no right to demand money from him in the first place.