The Alexandra Series

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  We toppled into bed together, which felt like home again.

  My Darling Jocelyn

  Chapter One

  On The Night Of The Full Moon . . .

  The Executive Retreat was at the Hawks Nest Lodge for the third year in a row. On Lake Tahoe’s north shore in January, drifts of bright white snow piled high around the rustic facade of the stately mountain dwelling.

  “I don’t normally like people taking my freedom from me like this,” Reggie said wearily to his next in command, Dwight Carroll.

  “But it’s a good management choice, Reg,” Dwight replied. “You need to let your guard down every once and a while.”

  Reggie chuckled, knowing Dwight was always thinking company first. It was why he relied on him so much. “It’s a curious mix this year,” Reggie said.

  “We’ve made a lot of changes in your executive staff,” Dwight acknowledged.

  “I don’t know half the people here,” Reggie remarked looking down from the second story balcony to the enormous living room, with the grand stone fireplace that covered an entire wall with mountain rock, built sometime in the 1930’s.

  It was lunch, the mood was light, and if the blizzard predicted for later in the day didn’t materialize, many of his employees were planning to ski. So far, the social aspects of the retreat were a success, while the working part had been less than Reggie had hoped for.

  “You need to get more involved with them,” Dwight suggested, nodding to the faithful masses below.

  “I haven’t before.”

  “But at least you knew their names.”

  “Ah yes, put on the charm and polish and go meet my people. Isn’t that what I have you for?”

  Reggie could be charming. Dwight and everyone else knew that. His classic blond hair combed neatly back with just the perfect wave in the front, the aristocratic high cheek bones, definitive nose, sharp jaw line, and the tight five foot eleven build, he intimidated most men, while he created the most profound sexual response in most women.

  He was cool, so cool that he could sweep a room with an arctic chill in seconds. And he was wickedly hot, the fiery heat of his flaring rhetoric went to the heart of matters he cared about, whether it was business or his personal passions. He ruled his company by intimidation, but of a very devious sort; few realized what manipulative power he had over them because they were so taken with the exterior package that altered with such practiced skill, he took speech away, and with it the power to challenge him.

  Under the surface, he was hardly as daunting, but few people got so far under his skin to realize that.

  “You’re sounding exceedingly cynical,” Dwight observed. He’d learned to listen to what his boss didn’t say as much as what he did.

  “Am I?” Reggie hadn’t thought about it that way.

  “Your love life sour?” Dwight asked.

  “I have no love life.”

  “And why’s that? Look at those women down there, any one of them would drop their pants for you in seconds.”

  “I don’t doubt,” Reggie said with a soft sad smirk. “But maybe that’s not what I need.”

  “Your games not going so well?” Dwight inquired. He knew of his bosses’ darker passions in a vague sort of way, though he’d never been a witness to them, and he never wanted to.

  Reggie stared out dispassionately to the group below. “Games,” he said. “That’s what it is,” he answered with added cynicism, leaving his second in command with yet another obscure comment. Dwight could only guess at the meaning behind it. Reggie suddenly turned to him. “Does Cassie have those reports ready?”

  “I doubt it. I don’t think Cassie was up for a working holiday. Last I saw of her, she was waving her fanny at Jason Sturbridge. You take her out of the office and that girl is real ditzy blonde.”

  “Cut the inference, Dwight. I’ve known dozens of brilliant blondes.”

  “Company included,” Dwight joked.

  “Of course.” He seemed to be lightening his mood, but it might only last a few seconds.

  “Well, I’m afraid your top notch secretary is going to need one of those firm reprimands you administer so well, if you want to get anything done that’s company productive. I haven’t seen a lick of work from her in two days. But frankly, I think things are going well without the work sessions. The company needed a breather like this.”

  “Perhaps, but it’s still not what I wanted, and I don’t like my subordinates changing my plans as if they were in charge.” His irritation was starting to show. “Send Cassie up here, I think it’s time the brat and I had a little chat.”

  Reggie sat down in a plush leather chair and looked out the expansive window toward the lake. The loft room was his favorite for the wide view, the tall pines framing the picture with a beauty only nature could create. He granted his father that much for having placed the Lodge perfectly on this site.

  “Reggie?”

  He heard Cassie’s sweet voice behind him, and without looking back at her, he motioned his secretary with a wave of his hand to a seat in front of him, directly in front of the big window. The attractive and usually efficient young woman sat down across from him, remaining on the edge of her chair, knowing the conversation would not be particularly easy. She could see the annoyance in the way his jaw twitched just ever so slightly. She’d seen it a number of times before.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she immediately said, trying to circumvent a lot of questions. Might as well get straight to the point, she was thinking.

  “Do you always fall apart in such situations, Miss Ryan?” he asked pointedly.

  “I’ve been preoccupied, sir. But I really didn’t think you cared about those meetings. After all, everyone is really having a good time relaxing. And well,” she blushed, “Jason, Mr. Sturbridge, has been getting awfully cozy.” Her eyes glimmered as if she had a school girl crush.

  “Perhaps he’d like to attend your strapping,” Reggie suggested.

  “Sir?” she looked up at him meekly. “Is that really necessary? I mean this is supposed to be a fun weekend. I would think even you could relax enough to allow a few imperfections to go unnoticed. And if you really want those reports, I could have them in thirty minutes, tops.”

  “I’m not in the mood to argue with you, Cassie. The reports are late, the work sessions have been running late, if at all, and because of the storm that’s likely to hit, we’ll not finish the agenda. I consider that your responsibility, and yours to atone for. You know how wasting time annoys me.” He was as cold and calculating as she’d ever seen him, even though she was certain there was something more than just her screw-ups aggravating him.

  “I’m really sorry,” she apologized again.

  He looked at her with the same frigid expression she’d seen so many times. It always unnerved her, even though it turned her on. They’d had an agreement from the start of her employment, and though in recent months they’d appeared to go in more separate directions, there was still a tacit understanding that certain situations would be handled in a particular manner, for both their satisfactions – for Cassie to play out her submission under the austere eye of Reggie’s dominance.

  “There’s a room at the end of the hall. Strip for me. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Strip?” she countered very carefully. He rarely demanded that much. In fact, not since the very early days of her employment as his executive secretary had he strapped her without a stitch of clothing. The thought made her positively raw with excitement – and fear. It was bad enough that this was such a compromising place for punishment, the idea that it would go on under this roof while her peers were downstairs engaged in light hearted social conversation was positively chilling.

  “You heard me,” Reggie said sharply.

  In the ‘room down the hall,’ there was a dresser, a chair, a free standing full length mirror and a bed, nothing else. Would they use the bed? she wondered. It had been a long time since they’d had sex after a punishmen
t. In spite of her growing affections for Mr. Sturbridge, the thought of her boss screwing her like crazy when the strapping was over was not at all upsetting. It was certain to take the edge off the raw sexual heat she would feel before this session was over.

  As Cassie pulled her sweater over her head, she found herself looking directly in the mirror. She jerked a little, surprised by her own reflection. She was wearing a cotton sport bra that clung to her like skin. Her hard nipples poked through the fabric so even the dark aureoles showed beneath. The longer she stared at herself the harder her nipples became from the chill in the air, and likely the excitement.

  Each article of clothing that dropped away sent Cassie deeper into a submissive state of mind. She remembered how she’d deliberately sought Reggie out for his unique fascination with submissive women, having heard of him from a casual acquaintance. One brief discussion was enough to suggest Reginald Harold could meet needs in her no other man could even fathom. Of course she was reluctant to tell most men her private cravings, thinking they’d assume she was either hopelessly depraved or nuts, at best in a league outside their own. Reggie, on the other hand, had never questioned her desires, but complemented them with his dominant ones.

  In two years, there were times he sexually ignored her so coldly she thought he would never touch her again with hand or strap. Other times, he played with her mind and body as if he was Heifetz playing a Stradivarius. He had the cunning to peer inside to corners of her sexual soul she didn’t know were there. And her only response would be a satisfied “Ah yes.”

  Cassie was wearing ski pants. Removing them, and the long johns beneath, shed the last of her casual ‘corporate secretary on executive ski retreat’ image. Unclothed, she was nothing but submissive, knowing full well that at least on some subconscious level she’d created this faux pas for a purpose.

  Reggie walked in just as she finished, just before she sat down on the bed to wait. He eyed her coldly as he held a leather spanker in hand, and wordlessly motioned her over the foot of the bed. She smiled nervously, though he did not.

  The bed-rail was a perfect height for punishment. It must not have been the first time he’d punished a woman here for him to know this; though it was the first time for her at the lodge. With the rail hitting her at the top of her thighs, her torso could rest comfortably on the soft white bed. But it was all the comfort she’d have.

  Reggie found her bare backside a pleasant view; her sculptured body was as perfect as any woman’s he’d ever been involved with. She had a firm small waist and a lovely swell above and below, as her chest flared to accommodate her round breasts with their pink nipples. Below, her hips fanned out into a glorious behind. The taut tempting heart shape pose her bottom made when she bent over even showed the pouch of her pubis below.

  Cassie always cringed before a strapping began, and this time was no different. That anticipation thrilled the dominant, Reggie, knowing that the waiting submissive was really petrified of that first stroke. She was perfect, a woman he’d chosen for that perfection. In the back of his mind he harbored thoughts of her that put her into a different category than most. He’d once considered the possibility of love, though nothing materialized. He assumed it was his own inadequacy that kept another perfect woman distant. And yet, while it was never her body that was a problem for him, it was her essence he had trouble with.

  Standing back he took aim, and bringing the implement forward, the leather cracked against her ass fiercely. The smack awakened her every nerve. The punishment began slow and methodically. She deserved the harshest treatment, one that would go on for some time with an orderly precision. The manipulating little bitch had defied his instructions for the meeting, made a mockery of the retreat, and then expected that a hearty chastisement would make ample amends. It made him furious.

  Reggie’s anger soon made him forget ‘slow and methodical’, precise and orderly. He let the spanker sizzle.

  “Ah gawd!” the girl roared, even as tried to squelch her loudest cries, being mindful of the noise and where she was. Though as the spanker snapped harder yet, she was losing control of her replies. Her “ah nos…”, “Oh pleeeese…” and “gawd nooooos,” came in as rapid fire staccato as the smacks of the leather against her skin. She was smart enough not to try and run from the punishment. Then of course, she never would. After all, she’d practically asked for it. But as Reggie continued the grueling swats, the pain was becoming difficult to bear.

  It was then that she dug in, became more submissive still, going into that place where she liked it this fierce. In that place of surrender, she craved that hellish edge of hurt, that all consuming feeling knocking out every bit of sass and bite inside. While it was happening, it was sheer torture, especially at the point when Reggie wasn’t pausing even for a second. She didn’t think she could stand another blow. But in the end, getting punished this way was a fine and jubilant cleansing, something to relish when it was over.

  As Reggie finally slowed the frenzied pace, he saw the plump round targets of Cassie’s ass, as wild a red as he could make them. In places they were tinged with purple, at that point where more would come close to breaking the once smooth skin. It had been the perfect discipline, and with an unexpected abruptness, he stopped and dropped the paddle to the floor.

  Cassie waited in silence. It seemed deafening after the sound of leather and flesh making contact, and the accompanying roars of woe that had filled the tiny upper room. In that quiet interim, Reggie caught his breath while his secretary did the same.

  The moment that followed was not one Reggie relished. Normally at this juncture, he would offer some stern reproach to his well worked submissive, or simply descend on her and take pleasure from her heated body. But the feeling that flowered inside him this time was uncommon, nothing like every other time, and it was quite distinct. Not the kind of man to mull things over, Reggie made decisions swiftly and this one was no different.

  “Cassie, this is the last time this will happen,” he announced. “Another deliberate foul up like the one you’ve made this weekend, there’ll be no corporal punishment. I’ll do what most executives would do with incompetent secretaries. I’ll fire you.”

  Cassie was too shocked to speak, and by the time she was able to find any words at all, the door behind her had opened and closed, and she was left in the room by herself to absorb the surprising message.

  ***

  When Reggie descended the massive wood carved staircase to the great room, the cool reserve of the last half hour had been replaced by a charming grin. Few would sense the turmoil under the surface calm and congeniality. Even Reggie would not acknowledge it while there were people expecting his leadership, easy efficiency, and social good humor. He didn’t particularly like this public persona, though it was one he performed well, and Dwight was delighted to see it at last.

  “Storm’s building bad, Reg,” Dwight told him as he approached. Reggie looked out the two story window, seeing the snow beginning to fall so heavily he could hardly see past the trees, let alone the lake beyond.

  “Sort of knocks out all our plans,” Reg remarked, almost as if he was disappointed that the retreat would abruptly end.

  “So what would you suggest?” Dwight let him make the final decision.

  “Better pack up,” he replied. “We certainly don’t need everyone bedding down in here.”

  Dwight agreed. “Where’s Cassie?” he asked. “She’s supposed to have all the room reservations handled.”

  “She’ll be down momentarily,” Reggie said. “If she has any courage at all.”

  Dwight ignored the inference. “You leaving too?” he asked.

  “I’d planned to stay a few days, call it that vacation you wanted me to take.”

  “Cassie staying too?” Dwight asked.

  “No,” Reggie snapped abruptly. The only emotion he’d show was the trace of anger remaining in his voice.

  The retreat dismissed minutes later and everyone scrambled to lea
ve, either for lodging in town or to get out of the mountains altogether. It might be a long drive out. After showering his employees with a few well timed remarks to cap the retreat’s business aims, he socialized for a few minutes, and then retreated upstairs to wait for the quiet he was accustomed to at the lodge to descend around him.

  Chapter Two

  An hour later, Reggie thought the last of his employees was gone when he heard Dwight shout a goodbye from below, and the huge front door clicked. Dwight’s rented Cherokee roared outside, and then slipped quietly into the snowy beyond.

  Reggie took a deep breath.

  The peace was freedom to him.

  The quiet regenerated his spirit, though it allowed the annoying moments with Cassie to return, along with a twinge of regret. Regret, not that he had ended their two year game of dominance/submission; but that it had to end. He didn’t want to count the times that he faced such dead ends with women.

  Thinking the silence would go on all night, he was startled to hear the sound of paper crackling, as if someone was fast thumbing through a magazine. Jumping from his chair, he walked toward the balcony, and looked down to see an auburn-haired woman sitting on a couch below, making her way through the pages of some journal.

  Taking the stairs quickly, Reggie was at the landing when he finally spoke.

  “Who are you?” he blared without an ounce of friendliness in his voice.

  The woman looked up at him, her face a rosy pink, and with eyes so green he could even tell the color from the distance between them.

  “Jocelyn Killian,” she answered plainly, with a delicate smile breaking out across her lustrous face.

  She was chewing gum and Reggie hated that.

  “And what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, as he continued down the stairs to the main floor.

  “My car’s not starting,” the woman answered. “I called the garage down the road. They should be here soon.” She glanced at her watch.