“Well, keep me posted on what you find out.” His tone indicated he was done talking about the subject. I was sure the person on the other end was scrambling to wrap up the conversation.
“That’s fine.” Trevor leaned forward to set the phone back down in the cradle and then cracked his knuckles deliberately, one by one.
“Lori,” he said pleasantly, his mouth curling into a smile. “What a welcome distraction.”
He glanced down to his desk—the very one I’d been sprawled across yesterday and spanked—and returned his gaze at me. His eyes twinkled and I knew exactly what he was thinking about. My cheeks heated with embarrassment but I tried not to avert my gaze.
He, delighted. “No hard feelings over yesterday, I hope,” he said. “Have you run into anyone today?”
“No—of course not.”
He held out his hands, grinning. “Lesson learned.”
He enjoyed tormenting me and I wanted this over with as quick as possible. “I’ve brought your dry cleaning,” I said, taking great care in ensuring the words came out evenly. We stood at the same time and he walked around the desk, taking the items from me. I felt a thrill of nervousness at his closeness.
He peeled back the plastic and examined his shirt. When he reached the collar, he rubbed it between his fingers and a faint smile met his lips. Had I finally done something right in his eyes? Tiny tendrils of hope shot through my veins.
“Lori, Lori, Lori.” He set the clothes on his desk. The hairs on the back of my neck rose at the hints of condescension and false disappointment in his voice. What was I going to have to do to endear myself to him? “I work long hours. When I leave the office, I rarely go home. I’m often conducting business at restaurants—sometimes, even at nightclubs.”
I swallowed, my mouth as dry as cotton. Where was he going with this?
“What would clients think of the company if I showed up with a wrinkled collar because my personal assistant failed to have it starched?”
I let out a long breath. “I’m sorry.” Stupid starch. Stupid dry cleaning. Stupid Lori. Of course it wouldn’t occur to me to ask for starch. In the few times I had some of Eric’s clothes dry-cleaned before important events, he hated starch. When was I going to remember that this was my new life and I was screwing it all up? It felt like Trevor was counting on me screwing up just so he could have the pleasure of making me feel inadequate. “Clients would probably get the wrong impression if you wore a wrinkly shirt.”
“Exactly.” He stabbed the air with a pointed finger. “Bishop Corp. needs to look perfect at all times, right down to the appearance of its CEOs. That’s why we need everyone who works here to strive for perfection. We can’t be perfect if you aren’t.”
I knew that the “you” in his statement wasn’t general—he specifically meant me.
He paced around, deep in thought. I wondered if I was going to get spanked again or if he was tired of that game. Part of me hoped he wasn’t. My nipples tightened at the possibility of being bent over his desk again, absorbing his blows on my ass. What was wrong with me?
I lowered my eyes, hoping to mask my arousal in a veil of shame and remorse.
“I need you to be better, Lori.” He purred the last part, my name. “I have to punish you again. Hopefully you’ll learn your lesson.”
I looked over at the desk and he followed my gaze before bursting into laughter. “Oh no, we’re not doing that. You’d like to get spanked, wouldn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
How did he know I enjoyed what he did yesterday? Was my face betraying my thoughts?
“I don’t know what you’re talk—”
Trevor held out his hand. “Take off your panties and give them to me.”
What?
My thighs squeezed together instinctively as if to stifle the strange sensation that suddenly skittered between them. What was he playing at?
“Mr. Bishop, that is highly—”
“Appropriate. Given your offense. Garment for a garment.”
His steely blue eyes left no room for compromise. Hating myself a little for how turned on I felt, I realized the command had the same effect on me today as it did yesterday.
My blush crept across my face and down my throat as I slowly inched my skirt up. His eyes glittered, never looking away. The wicked scar marring his otherwise perfect face looked menacing. I reached beneath the fabric of my skirt and hooked my fingers on either side of my panties. I was excruciatingly turned on in spite of my humiliation, feeling a thrill as the air hit my bare pussy when I drew the panties down my thighs. My skirt slipped down to cover my nudity and I stepped out of my underwear.
I couldn’t meet his eyes as I dropped the scrap of fabric into his outstretched hand. He held them up for me to see, dangling the purple scrap of fabric in front of my face.
“I’m going to confiscate these. You can have them back before you leave for the day—if you think you deserve them back. Do you think you can be better?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt exposed even though my skirt amply covered everything. Losing those panties made me feel completely naked.
“Good.” I bit my lip as he fingered the crotch area of my panties, my stomach in knots, and then lifted his hand to his nose, eyes narrowed. “Have you been thinking dirty thoughts today?”
I looked at the ground, wishing desperately that I could just disappear. Trevor had detected the wetness my pussy left in the panties after my massage from Jordan. The fact that he had just put his fingers in my arousal and smelled it made me direly afraid that I would soon start dripping on his precious rug. If he would reach down and cup the space between my legs...he’d find much more where that came from. The entire scenario made me nearly as horny as Jordan’s massage.
“I bet I can guess who you were thinking about.” He said it so casually that I almost missed it. I looked up just in time to see him slip my panties into his pocket. “I hope you spend the rest of your day thinking about how you can be better.” The dismissal was clear in his voice.
My knees quaking, I walked back to the door and stepped into my shoes. I could feel his eyes on me. Every step reminded me that I wasn’t wearing panties, my pussy rubbing against the fabric of my skirt. I left his office, closing the door and not looking back. Another lesson learned, I thought to myself, feeling humiliated and extremely horny. When would these lessons end?
Chapter 4
“Have a good night, Susan,” I said, waving to her as she prepared to leave for the day.
“Thanks again for the brownie, Lori.” She smiled. “You definitely know how to exploit my weaknesses.” We both laughed as she walked away, but my heart wasn’t in it.
I was still beyond distracted with arousal and worry. When was I going to get my panties back and, more importantly, what was Trevor going to do to me? I’d been imagining various scenarios all day. My favorite was the one of him putting my panties back on me, slipping the fabric up my legs until it covered me again. A strange chill ran through my body and made me shudder.
I hurried to wrap up the transcript I was working on—it was actually Trevor’s notes from the phone call he was in the middle of when I returned the botched dry cleaning. From what I understood, Bishop Corp. was trying to form a partnership with another media magnate. It was all heavy stuff, and something that piqued my interest, but I had something a little more pressing on my mind—getting my panties back. The moment I knew Susan was gone, I stood and snuck down the hallway to Trevor’s office.
I knocked timidly on the door, my breathing shallow. I paused to wait for him to tell me to enter, but there was nothing but silence. I knocked again, harder this time, and rested my ear against the wood. There wasn’t a sound. Out of desperation, I tried the door handle.
It was locked.
Shit. That bastard. He had probably sauntered off for the day when I was away from my desk, laughing to himself with my panties stowed in his pocket. I rested my head on his door feeling
defeated. My eyes prickled as a few tears coursed down my cheeks. My humiliation would be complete when I ride the bus home in commando. The thought wasn’t comforting, and neither was the realization that I was perhaps a little disappointed that I didn’t get to see Trevor again. The pressures of today, sexual and otherwise, caught up with me all at once and my shoulders began to shake.
A sound behind me made me jump. I turned, quickly wiping my cheeks.
“Lori, what’s wrong?” It was Jordan. He was carrying a slim briefcase, about to leave work. Encountering him in the hallway was like being walled in. Even the briefcase looked like a clutch purse in his massive grip.
“Nothing,” I said, feigning cheerfulness. “Looks like your brother left for the day, but there was still one last thing I was supposed to do.”
He waved his hand in the air. “It’ll wait until tomorrow. Don’t worry about it.” He looked closer at me and frowned. “Have you been crying?”
I gulped and shook my head quickly, but he seized me by the upper arm. “What did Trevor do to you?” he demanded. “Tell me.”
I recognized that tone of voice—it was the Bishop command. I didn’t want to tell on Trevor, or drive any sort of wedge between the brothers, but I had to comply, just as I’d had to take my panties off for Trevor. Why was I powerless to resist them?
Blushing mightily, I looked at the ground. “He took my panties as a punishment for not getting his shirt starched,” I mumbled, hoping inanely that Jordan wouldn’t hear.
He released my arms and balled his hands into fists. “That son of a bitch,” he growled, biting off the words. “I’m going to have to talk to him.”
I dried my eyes and hazarded a glance up at Jordan’s furious face. For some reason, the gray was dominating his eyes, looking like cold iron. Looking at me, his features softened immediately. I tried to smile for him, grateful that he was taking up my cause against his brother, but feeling endlessly guilty for causing him to do so. I had to admit—it was incredibly endearing that he was angry for me. I began to feel a little better in his presence. At least one of my bosses made me feel better.
“I’d appreciate it,” I said, my voice hitching a little.
Something like pain crossed his face and he took me in his arms, holding me close. I instantly melted, completely surrounded by his muscular warmth. I’d never felt safer. Being enveloped in his embrace soothed away the stress caused by Trevor.
“I hate to see anyone upset—especially you, Lori,” he said, rubbing my back gently. “Let me give you a ride home.”
I felt a thrill of excitement when I thought about riding my commute with Jordan. It certainly was better than the alternative—bare-assed on the bus—with creepers trying to sneak a peek at every opportunity.
“A ride sounds really nice.” My words were muffled against his rock-hard chest, but I blushed at the possible double meaning. Sure, riding Jordan would be nice. I’d even take another massage.
He released me from the hug and put his hands on my shoulders, staring deeply into my eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
We rode the elevator down to the lobby together, Jordan keeping a protective arm around my shoulders the entire time. It felt good—the warmth of his body, the closeness of him, even smelling the tiniest hints of the spicy massage oil from earlier. I couldn’t help wondering why he was trying so hard to make up for his brother’s behavior with me. Did he think I would quit? Maybe sue? I was sure he had no idea how badly I wanted this job.
A sleek, black limo pulled up to the curb as we walked outside. I would’ve needed a jacket if not for the man-sized heater next to me. I couldn’t deny feeling a little glamorous as the driver opened the door and Jordan helped me inside. The interior of the limo was completely modern—deep carpeting on the floor, a variety of leather seating options, minibar, flat screen television.
Jordan got in beside me as I scooted over to accommodate his bulk. The driver shut the door and hustled to the front. Was this what it was like to be a billionaire?
“Where to?” Jordan asked, then smiled wickedly. “Are you sure you want to go home? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
I laughed weakly, feeling a lot better. “Home sounds perfect to me.” I gave him the address, which he relayed to the driver before pushing a button to activate the privacy divider.
“I feel terrible,” he said once the divider was securely in place. “Trevor is a perfectionist, which is good for the business. Unfortunately, it makes him sort of a prick.”
I tittered at the name-calling and shook my head. “Really, it’s okay. I know he has his own style of getting things done and it’ll just take me a little bit to get it all figured out. I’m still kind of new.” I didn’t know why I was giving Trevor such a break when he’d made the last few hours such a hellish mix of humiliation and arousal.
“Kind of new? It’s your third day. You’re doing admirably well.”
“Thank you,” I said, blushing. “That means a lot.” It did. Despite my growing list of punishments from Trevor, I was trying. I wanted to do well. I wanted to impress both Bishops.
He reached over and rested his hand on my knee. “About the massage this morning,” he began as my flush deepened at his contact. “I hope you didn’t feel uncomfortable. I realize now that perhaps it put you in an awkward situation.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, it was actually really nice. I felt a lot better afterward.” It actually made me extremely sexually frustrated afterward but that was a good kind of stress. At least it gave me good material to think about for when I was alone tonight. His hand crept higher up my leg and I swallowed, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Was he coming on to me?
“The thing is, I feel like I can’t resist you.”
Oh my God, my sexy boss was coming on to me.
“I couldn’t help watching you get dressed and undressed.”
My heart rose to my throat. I’d had suspicions, but no real idea that he’d been sneaking peeks then. Now that I knew he had seen me naked, I hoped I’d been sucking in my stomach.
“You’re so beautiful, Lori. And when I picked up your towel and noticed that little wet streak across the massage table, I could only hope that you felt the same.”
My heart was trying its best to explode out of my chest. I couldn’t believe he had seen the wet spot on the table. How ashamed could I be of myself in one day?
He leaned slowly closer to me. I felt that I could get lost in his beautiful eyes. Just staring at them stripped away my worries. I bypassed the obvious risks physical intimacy with one’s boss could have, feeling too needy, too horny, too close to the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on.
I tipped my face up and closed my eyes as his surprisingly soft lips grazed mine. God, I wanted him so bad. Sensing he’d get no resistance, he deepened the kiss, slipping his hot tongue between my lips. I gripped his thick arms as he leisurely explored my mouth, probing it almost curiously.
His hand slipped beneath my skirt and tickled my inner thigh as it traveled upward. I spread my legs to make room, thankful for the first time today that I wasn’t wearing any panties. Take that, Trevor. Jordan’s thick fingers stroked my soft lips, parting them minutely, and I whimpered at the attention. He expertly found my clit and lightly teased it, rubbing the pads of his fingers back and forth across the hood. The stimulation was perfect—not too strong, but persistent enough to make me arch my back and thrust forward.
He held me by my hip with one hand as he continued to pleasure me with the other. I gasped and moaned, not caring what he thought of me. He kept his eyes on me intently, seeming eager to figure out what pleased me most. He wiggled a finger between my lips and rubbed the slickness he found there. I felt like I’d been wet all day long. Once his finger was coated with my juices, he began circling my entrance, teasing me to the brink of madness.
“Please,” I whispered, throwing my head back against the seat and grabbing his hand with both of mine. The movement of the limo’s w
heels beneath us added an erotic vibration to my ass. I’d never been so turned on.
“All you have to do is ask,” he said softly. “I’ll give it to you.” He slipped his finger inside me, easily locating my G-spot and rubbing it. Combined with his continued attention to my clit, I found myself ready to come. No one had ever made me feel like this, so ready to explode, not even Eric. Finally, I told myself. I’d been waiting for release ever since the massage.
“I’m gonna come,” I warned, bucking against his ever-moving fingers.
His breath was heavy with desire. “Come for me, Lori.”
His lips crashed into mine as I moaned out the arrival of a perfect orgasm. He swallowed my howls of pleasure and I felt all the stress of the day dripping away with each wave of climax.
The Bishop Affair (Dominated by the Billionaire Brothers #2) Page 3
