The Alexandra Series
Page 36
“Someone damn well better be around here.”
“This is personal, isn’t it?”
“My report isn’t biased, but this conversation sure is.”
“Then why don’t you get it out of your system, or we could have a difficult time ever working together.”
Jocelyn was ashamed of herself, but once headed down this path, there was little way she could suddenly turn about for any kind of graceful retreat.
“Tell me,” he prompted her.
“This is strictly between you and me,” she said. She took a deep breath not knowing how she was going to get through the next sixty seconds. Another deep breath and she could begin again. “I’ve met men in my life that have abused me one night, and then been cool in the morning. I’ve had my one-nighters, and my share of cads. But I’ve never had a night like the one we had, I’ve never connected with someone so magically, I’ve never shared the intimacies of my body the way I did with you to find there was nothing, absolutely nothing days later. I can’t believe you’re that heartless.”
“Then you’ve been talking to the wrong people.”
“I’ve talked to no one.”
“I think you’re missing the point, Jocelyn.” It was the first time since returning from Tahoe, that he called her Jocelyn. “Tahoe had its merits, but you need to understand, a relationship with me would never be that bed of roses.”
“Really?”
“I’m a sexual dominant. What I fantasize about for you is not so sweet as rolling all over a soft leather couch. If you thought the gentle spanking I gave you was a taste of my domination, you have a good deal to learn about me. I don’t think you have the temperament to face who I really am. And I certainly don’t think you’d find the man I am worthy of your love.”
She was totally amazed by his confession, but not persuaded. “And how do you know that?” she replied, intending to press her point.
“Lots of experience. I’ve known a lot of women in my time, a lot of submissive and dominant women. You’re not a sexual submissive.”
“But you don’t really know that. You don’t know what I’d do in a relationship with you. You can make all the assumptions you like, but you can’t really say for sure.”
“About this I can.”
“You know what I think? I think I really got inside you. I think I shook you up so much, you’re running as fast as you can to stay away from me.” The merry expression in her eyes was difficult for him to watch.
He stared at her for some moments, all cold on the outside, though there was an unexpected fire moving in him.
“You’re one haughty bitch, Jocelyn Killian,” he said. “I’d dearly love to tame your pride. Whip you into shape.”
“They why don’t you try?” she asked.
It was the same brand of taunting she’d used at the lodge, when she dared him to spank her ass. It was so damned appealing he couldn’t turn it down.
“You have no idea what I’ll demand. And when you go running away from me, I won’t shed a tear.”
“Maybe you should let me decide what I can take and what I can’t.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”
“And is that a reason not to try something?” she said. “Maybe you don’t understand what you have to lose.”
Where his face had been so chilling in its cold resolve, it was thawing enough to allow a more amiable expression to appear. “You came in here despising me, why are you pursuing this so avidly?” About that he was bewildered.
This time there was no snappy retort. She took his question seriously, but had no easy answer.
“I don’t know why,” she said. “That’s as honest as I can be. The attraction is remarkable, the desire compelling, but I’ve had that before. So I really don’t know why I want a relationship with you. I just know I’d like to try.”
There was a softer expression on his face, the woman was breaking through his barriers again, and just as she didn’t know why she was inciting this affair, he wasn’t certain why he was allowing it. He never would have in the past, but then he’d never met anyone like Jocelyn.
“It’s eleven,” he said looking at his watch. It took him only a second to return to a cool, clipped demeanor. “We’ll go to lunch at one. Don’t be late.”
Completely perplexed, Jocelyn took too long to leave.
“You’re dismissed, Miss Killian,” he ordered her out. She was fast to exit the office, the strangest feeling of fear traipsing though her body everywhere.
***
She was in his office at ten minutes after one.
“You’re late. The first mistake of any good submissive,” he said.
“You can forgive me,” she said. “I was doing your company’s business.”
“I don’t really care,” he answered.
“Well then, you can spank me now,” she said.
“When you ask for it?” He looked as if she’d gone mad. “I’m hungry, let’s go.”
The two climbed into Reggie’s Porsche, taking a path that wound through the city streets to a quieter neighborhood where Jocelyn expected some small cafe. They stopped in front of a shop instead, Jocelyn perplexed by what seemed a change in plans. Examining the shop’s facade, she guessed it was some kind of women’s apparel store, but it was difficult to tell.
Inside, the two were greeted by a small woman, with eyes that lit up the moment she saw Reggie. While she must have been over fifty, she had a sensuous attitude that made her appear much younger. She wore her dark hair in a bun, and was dressed in designer suite that was perfect for her somewhat stocky build. There was a soft graceful smile on her red lips.
Approaching them, she went immediately for Reggie, planting an affectionate kiss on his cheek.
“Monsieur, how long it’s been!” she exclaimed. “No fine ladies to bring to me?”
“It has been a while,” Reggie conceded.
She looked at Jocelyn. “Ah, but this one?” She was definitely interested in the sultry auburn haired beauty on Reggie’s arm. “What would you like? Something lace? Or perhaps…” Her eyes were lighting jubilantly with her thoughts.
“A corset, Marie,” Reggie interrupted her spirited musings.
“Ah, mais oui. Something?” She eyed Reggie with a mischievous glimmer. “Very snug, I should guess.”
“Oui. Very snug.”
“To remind her of her place.”
Jocelyn stood submissively beside the man, in awe of him, Marie and whatever this device the two were concocting for her. The woman eyed her top to toe with beady eyes, making judgments all the way. “She’ll have to strip,” she said, as she moved to the opposite end of the shop and rummaged through several large drawers filled with old fashioned women’s under garments.
“Take off your clothes, Jocelyn,” Reggie ordered.
“Right here?”
“Yes.” There was no discussion in his voice.
Modesty was never important to Jocelyn Killian, but to undress in broad daylight, in the middle of a clothing store was going to extremes, even if it was a deserted shop, in a deserted neighborhood. But, it was a test. She read that clearly in the cool clear tones of Reggie’s voice. For an instant she wondered why she was doing this. But then she remembered, even as she doubted herself, that he turned her on so much she couldn’t think of giving him up, even if it meant sacrificing her modesty.
“Jocelyn, Marie can’t fit you properly unless you remove your clothes.” He was being firm but exceedingly kind, interrupting the conversation in Jocelyn’s head.
Casting him a squeamish smile, she began to unbutton the powder blue suit jacket she was wearing, revealing a lace teddy underneath. Marie had returned to her side, and she allowed her to take the jacket from her. Trying not to feel too intimidated, she reached around behind her and undid the clasp of her skirt and let the garment drop to the floor. There was just the teddy, thigh high hose and her heels remaining. Perhaps that was enough.
“We’ll
see about the stockings, they’re rather pretty,” Marie said, approaching her, and playing with the satin roses on the top of the stockings. “Take the teddy off,” she ordered, looking up at Jocelyn. There was a pleasant smile, but it was laced with daggers in her eyes, a stunning contrast.
Lifting the shoulder straps, Jocelyn pulled each side of the teddy down, and though reluctantly, she finally pushed the stretchy fabric from her chest. She was naturally endowed with round firm breasts, with pink aureoles and small brown nipples. Naked in the cool air, the nipples tightened instantly.
“You’d be surprised how much the lace hides, Mademoiselle,” Marie said, as if that explanation was necessary to motivate the last revealing move that bared Jocelyn’s tummy and pubic mound.
The feeling of vulnerability was appalling. Stripped. Naked. Exposed. She felt as if these two could read her soul as easily as they could see her bare body.
Marie became instantly busy measuring her breasts, her chest, her waist and hips. The touch of her fingers made the yielding Jocelyn shiver.
“Perfection!” Marie exclaimed. She mumbled to herself in French. And at one point Reggie answered her back in French.
Pretty bold of them, assuming she didn’t know the language, Jocelyn thought to herself. Too bad she’d studied Spanish.
Scooting across to the other side of the room, Marie searched her cabinets again, and finally pulled out what she’d been looking for. Returning to Reggie and the bewildered woman, she smiled broadly.
“It will suit a novice,” she said. She immediately went about the task of putting the simple tailored corset around Jocelyn’s middle, fingers flying. The redhead was quickly surrounded by the garment with stays and hooks, and top to bottom laces in the back. Marie tugged at the laces from behind, pulling them with firm hard jerks.
“Ouch! I can’t breathe,” Jocelyn exclaimed.
“You’ll get used to it,” Reggie said, admiring the perfect fit. It made the hourglass of her figure more pronounced, her slender waist more slender, and laced as tightly as it was, the flair to her hips and breasts below and above gave her a most elegant line.
“Look in the mirror, mon cherie,” Marie purred.
Almost afraid to look, the headstrong Jocelyn hesitated. Her shyness came from the most unexpected feeling of surrender descending through her. The corset became a mantle of submission – a word and a state of mind that she was still unaccustomed to.
“Jocelyn, look at yourself,” Reggie prompted, a no nonsense sternness in his voice.
Raising her head to view herself in the mirror, she saw another woman staring back at her, not the one she saw each morning, not the one that undressed in her room at night. This one made her shudder. The corset had obviously struck a chord in her, one she was unaccustomed to play, though it felt good now.
The corset rose high enough on her chest to accentuate her breasts, though it didn’t cover them. Standing out so boldly, her tits and nipples took a much more prominent place on her already alluring body. The front of the corset was beautifully shaped, edged in lace so that it framed her pubic mound as if it was a jewel on display. And when she glanced in the three-way mirror at her rear end, her full round bottom stood out as if it was waiting to be screwed or spanked.
“Ah, if I were young, I would have her myself,” Marie said, in complete admiration.
“The corset will do, Marie. You have nylons to match?” Reggie asked.
“Certainly.” The woman scurried to her cabinets again and pulled out a pair of fine silk stockings. Removing the ones Jocelyn was wearing, Marie helped her put the new ones on. Then the woman turned Jocelyn around so she was facing the mirror again. The entire effect of her new underclothes was startling, the most startling aspect was the crude rush of arousal that was moving through her body. She was afraid her desire might show – if Reggie and Marie were to look closely between her legs where her female juice was beginning flow.
“Such a fine moment, Monsieur Harold,” Marie gasped in awe. “Would you like the paddle?”
“I can see the possibilities,” Reggie agreed, scrutinizing his submissively attired female executive. He was relishing her transformation, a moment of triumph for him. But he had other plans in mind for Jocelyn and her new corset. “Not today, Marie. Though the corset is perfect. You’re inspired as usual.”
“Merci, monsieur, and perhaps you’d like to fit her with some leather costumes. I have some very naughty designs I know you’ll appreciate.”
“We’ll have to see them later,” Reggie told her. “For today the corset will do.” He turned to the still bewildered Jocelyn. “Get dressed and we’ll go to lunch.”
Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief knowing she wasn’t going to be spanked. But lunch? The idea of eating was the furthest thing from her mind, especially when the waist cinching corset had her bound so tightly, she couldn’t imagine putting a thing in her stomach. “You want me in the corset?”
“That’s what it’s for. You’ll wear it the rest of the day,” Reggie answered her.
There was just her skirt and suit coat to put on, and that done, she looked as presentable as she had when she arrived at the shop, although there was a decidedly different aura to Jocelyn Killian, one perplexed, aroused, and embarrassed all in the same rare instant.
Jocelyn walked out of the shop on Reggie’s arm, a pleasantly happy Marie waving to them as they left.
Chapter Four
Just as Reggie instructed her, Jocelyn wore the corset three days in a row. Though for three days he ignored her. Except for business, few words passed between them.
Jocelyn was wary the entire time, looking for a simple glance, a change in his voice, some softness in his otherwise cool demeanor.
He’d said some lovely things to her at lunch after the trip to Marie’s. Sitting in a bustling city restaurant with the restrictive garment about her middle, she couldn’t forget that she was wearing it. In a very real way, it made her his, as if she actually belonged to him. The idea was absurd, but it aroused her anyway. Even though no one knew about the corset, she felt vulnerable and exposed.
Reggie complimented her on her poise. He even smiled once when he looked at her. She’d caught him eyeing her while she was busy eating a messy chicken sandwich. She got the distinct impression as she stared at his passive face that he adored her. But she’d never tell him she had these thoughts about him. He’d certainly deny it.
The lunch over, the spell, or whatever witchcraft had been woven around them disappeared. It reminded her of Tahoe just before she left. Reggie had a way of drawing inside himself so quickly, she couldn’t catch the act when it happened. It was just suddenly there, the cool, the detachment, while all the enchanting charm simply vanished.
Three days with little encouragement in their bizarre relationship, Jocelyn was uneasy. On the fourth day, she was in his office, arranging a report on his desk, a half dozen files there to illustrate the point she would be arguing about for the next half hour. She sincerely hoped that it would not be the kind of confrontation she had with him nearly every day. He was the most exasperating man to work for, picking apart every little detail of her work with a master’s cunning eye. He was too intelligent for his own good, she thought. He processed details like a computer, but to grasp the subtleties, the feeling part, that was as mystifying to him as she was.
“Did you wear the corset today?” Reggie asked her. He came up behind her without her knowing he was in the room.
Jocelyn jerked around.
“Good god! You scared me.”
For an instant, his warm hands steadied her, placed tenderly on her shoulder, an instant’s worth of concern appeared in his expression before it vanished. He dropped his hand to his side.
“Did you wear the corset?” he repeated his question.
She cringed. Not one word about it for three days. Why today?
“No,” she answered truthfully.
“Oh?”
“No. It’s horrible getting it
on, I have to twist it around, and I can hardly tie it. I didn’t think you really cared, since you’ve be ignoring me.”
“Go home and put it on,” he said.
“What?”
“You didn’t follow my instructions. Go home and put it on. I want it on you when I punish you.”
“But…”
“You’re on my time. Do as I say.”
“I can’t believe…you’re out of your mind!”
He glared at her. “Don’t argue with me.” His anger made her shiver in the strangest kind of way. There was lust behind the brusque exchange, but not simple lust. An affair with Reggie Harold was a lot more complicated than that. “This affair of ours is what you wanted. Or have you changed you mind as easily as you counter my wishes?”
She remembered her vow to him, how she swore that he couldn’t know her heart. But was it silly to follow his demands? she wondered. Likely, it was silly and ridiculous and childish. But without having to even search herself, Jocelyn was aware of the compulsion to please him and surrender to his demands. Her only disappointment was, she’d been on the raw edge of sexual heat for days now, and he was still offering no relief. Maybe it was time to take him again, to wile her way into his lap, unzip his pants and remind him of the other benefits of their relationship. After she’d returned home for the corset, of course.
Jocelyn was angry with herself all the way home, all through the nasty struggle to put the corset on, and all the way back to the office. She fought with herself every second, thinking this obsession with Reginald Harold was insane. To make matters worse, when he ignored her after she returned to the office she was furious. The gall of the man to avoid her. After he’d drawn her away from important meetings for something as trivial as a corset!
“Miss Killian, in my office.” She heard his voice interrupting her meeting. He stood in the doorway of the conference room as she was explaining spread sheets to several of his managers.
She stared up at his impassive face.
“Now,” he clarified. He left the room before she could reply.
Jocelyn gazed at the empty space for a moment and then resumed her work, while the three middle managers standing around her desk stared at her, waiting for her to leave.