Occupational Hazard: The Ultimate Workplace Romance Box Set

by Eve Langlais

  Too late. His door swung open only seconds after she hung up and in she walked wearing a long trench coat.

  He couldn’t help his relief at seeing her safe, even as his cheeks warmed in ruddy embarrassment. “Isabelle, thank god you’re all right. I don’t know how or what happened, but I must have been knocked out by some thugs because when I came to, I was tied to my chair. Can you get me loose?”

  “A bunch of thugs?” She laughed as she closed and locked Grant’s office door, the click of the tumbler sending a frisson of fear down Grant’s spine. What the hell is going on?

  “Isabelle, why are you locking the door? Are my assailants still out there?”

  Isabelle turned to face him, and for the first time since the previous Saturday, Grant looked at her. Truly looked at her. His breath whooshed out as if he’d been punched in the gut. God, she is so beautiful.

  Standing all of her five foot five inches, eight when she wore those sexy heels, she perused him with clear blue eyes. Having starved himself all week long, he couldn’t help but inhale her image now, noting her mahogany hair upswept in a chignon that showed off her long neck.

  By all that was holy, he wanted to pull the pins out of her hair, have it tumble down around her naked shoulders, or even better, see it spread wildly across a pillow as she gazed up at him with heavy lidded, passion glazed eyes. Her mouth glistened, pink and tempting, her lips coated with a sheen of lip-gloss, a sweet flavor he remembered from their encounter a week ago. It took only the recollection of those luscious lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him expertly, for him to get aroused.

  His initial attraction to Isabelle had surprised him because she wasn’t his usual type. On the contrary, not only was she older, somewhere in her mid to late thirties with a figure more rounded than that of his usual conquests, but was dark haired and not blonde.

  Yet, if he were to be completely honest, it was her being opposite from his usual girlfriends that drew him; her voluptuous beauty and confident manner. A confidence she’d drawn upon in the bedroom as she told him what she wanted him to do to her full figured body. Glorious orders he’d eagerly obeyed. God, she was wild and wanton. Dire situation or not, desire roused itself like a beast and roared through his body.

  But therein lay the path to madness and sure unemployment. Isabelle might possess the delectable ass, the most perfect set of lips, the sweetest honey flavor he’d ever tasted, but not only was she his secretary, she was also the owner’s daughter.

  Grant knew all too well how this would end. Badly. The last man to get involved with her had learned, to his misfortune, that to lust after Isabelle was to sign your own pink slip. That poor guy’s dismissal had led to Isabelle’s transfer to Grant’s office and the beginning of his obsession with her, which had culminated in one stupid—although sexually magnificent—night.

  “Grant, why have you ignored me all week?”

  “What?” Her blatant question took him aback. “Isabelle, I don’t think it’s the right time for this discussion. You need to untie me. We need to get out of here.”

  “When will it be a good time?” she asked, coming closer, her eyes flashing in annoyance. “I’ve been waiting all week.”

  Women always had such inappropriate timing. “Listen, I promise that when this is all over, we’ll sit down and talk about it. But right now, you need to set me free before those guys come back.”

  “Guys?” Isabelle perched herself on the edge of his desk and crossed her legs. One stocking clad leg peeked out from the opening in her coat, and for one insane moment, he wondered if she had on garters like she had worn last Saturday. Garters and stockings he’d gripped as he’d pounded into her tight, wet sheath. His cock swelled in remembrance, and he held back a snort of self-disgust.

  She smiled, a coy grin as if she read his dirty thoughts. “Exactly how many men do you think did this to you?”

  “I don’t know.” Grant’s ego demanded he lie and tell her it had taken at least a half dozen thugs to subdue him, but the truth was he had no idea how he’d ended up in this situation. “I’m having a hard time remembering. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  “Why would you care?”

  “You seriously have to ask?” Grant practically snapped. For some reason, the idea of anyone laying an uncouth hand on her roused a jealous beast inside him, one he’d never met before. The protective, possessive instinct shocked him. He was a man who lived for one-night stands. “I know I’ve acted like a jerk this week, but that doesn’t mean I want you to come to harm.”

  “So you admit to being an asshole?” she asked, her eyes glittering triumphantly.

  Taken aback by her foul language, Grant tried to defend himself. “I didn’t have a choice. You need to understand it from my perspective. If it got out we were involved, I could lose my job.”

  Isabelle laughed, a throaty sound that, even given the situation, made his balls tighten and his shaft swell. “Oh, that’s good. So it’s okay to fuck the boss’s daughter, but not okay to treat her like a human being afterward? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

  “Well ...” Said that like, he did sound like a grade ‘A’ asshole, not that he’d ever admit it. His reasons were sound—to him, at least. And this is why one shouldn’t sleep with co-workers. One-night stands and sexual flings worked best when a guy didn’t have to see the other person every day. Grant’s biggest dilemma, though, was that he wanted to see Isabelle again. Memories of being with her consumed him, and if not for the fact that he loved his work more, he’d have already caved—and taken her like a sexual deviant against his desk the other day when she bent over to pick up the pen.

  He swallowed and tried to explain himself. “Listen, I like you Isabelle.” She snorted. In spite of her derision, he continued on, “I really like you. But no matter how good Saturday was, it was a mistake. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I don’t want to lose it all because I forgot who you were for a moment. Can’t we just pretend it never happened and continue on in a professional manner?”

  “Not a chance,” she said as she hopped off his desk. She propped a foot on the chair between his thighs and turned him to face her. Then she untied the sash to her coat. “Guess what, Grant?”

  “What?” he asked, mesmerized by the movements of her small, pale hands. Hands he remembered wrapping around his shaft, stroking him and guiding him into her moist center. “I don’t—”

  “There are no intruders. I’m the one who tied you to the chair. Consider this your punishment for being a jerk.” With a wicked smile, she let her coat fall to the floor.

  Grant’s eyes almost popped out of his head, while his cock tried to drill a hole through his pants. I think I’m in trouble. Glorious trouble.

  Chapter Three

  Delight flooded her. So far her plan was working. Grant surely was looking at her now. Then again, what red-blooded male wouldn’t?

  Isabelle stood in front of a slack-jawed Grant wearing her finest leather dominatrix outfit, which consisted of a black corset that laced up the front and pushed her breasts together creating a shadowy cleavage. Barely covering her private parts was a black leather skirt that did nothing to hide her garters and the edge of her sheer stockings. To top off the outfit, she wore bitching, supple leather knee high boots replete with three-inch stiletto heels. And beneath it all, she wore no panties—which Grant couldn’t tell just by looking, of course—but she knew, and it made her feel deliciously wicked.

  And sexy, especially as she noted his eyes riveted on her body.

  Reaching up, Isabelle pulled out the pins that held her hair in its chignon, letting its silky mass tumble around her bare shoulders. She knew he liked her hair loose. She knew a lot of things about Grant, even things he thought were secret.

  Licking her lips, a sensuous motion that made him visibly swallow and the crotch in pants swell, she laughed. “You’ve been a bad boy, Grant. And you know what? I’ve got a special punishment for bad boys like you.” Just saying the words sen
t a shiver throughout her body, and moistened her sex.

  She wasn’t alone in enjoying the dirty talk. A tremble wracked his body, and the bulge in his pants twitched. Isabelle strutted around the chair holding him prisoner. She stopped and stood behind him. Grabbing his thick, dark hair, she forced his head back before she lowered her lips to his ear, and whispered, “I’m going to make you sorry, Grant. Sorry you didn’t try and keep me when you had a chance.”

  She bit his earlobe and chuckled throatily at his cry and jerk of pain. This is going to be fun.

  Grant heartily regretted his decision to pretend he’d never touched Isabelle, especially when he saw her decked out in his greatest leather fantasy. He found this naughty, dominant Isabelle even sexier than the one he already knew. It was almost as if she’d seen the images he’d saved in the hidden folder on his computer at home. His naughty file as he called it, which contained hundreds of pictures where women took charge of men and punished them in decadent ways. A secret desire in which he’d never indulged, but always fantasized about.

  Even as she bit his ear lobe and threatened him, his cock strained inside his pants. He fervently wished he wasn’t tied to the chair so he could bend her over his desk, lift that itty bitty excuse for a skirt, and fuck her, hard. Hard enough to make her red manicured nails claw the glossy surface of his desk until she screamed his name and her pussy milked his cock.

  He wanted to gag her with his dick as he pulled on her hair to punish her for tying him up. Speaking of which, how had she managed to subdue him with him being none the wiser?

  “How—”

  “How did I manage to tape you and make you my prisoner? It was simple, really. Who bought your dinner and served it to you?”

  The implication was clear. She’d drugged him .You sneaky little bitch. He wanted to lambast her for her actions, but who could be pissed at a leather goddess who stood just inches away?

  “Fine,” he said. “You’ve made your point. Untie me, and we’ll go to dinner. Talk things over.” Then fuck like bunnies again, since you apparently didn’t get enough of me the first time. He’d like another taste of her, too. And as for his job, it was beginning to look like pleasuring the boss’s daughter might be the only way to keep it. The things he had to do to get ahead in the corporate world. Although, this would have to rank as the most pleasurable thus far.

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no? What do you expect to accomplish with me tied to this chair?” A frown creased his forehead. He’d need his hands free to pleasure her and make her forgive him. “Isabelle—”

  She quieted him with a finger on his lips. “Shhh. No more talking from you. I have plan for you, naughty one” she said, her tone rife with promise, a promise reflected in her flushed face which came into view as she came full circle and stood before him again.

  Isabelle placed one booted heel on his desk. At that angle, Grant couldn’t miss the fact that not only was she not wearing any bottoms, she was also clean shaven and moist. Her pink folds glistened and beckoned. Grant almost came in his pants. Fuck, she’s hot!

  In front of his disbelieving eyes, Isabelle spread her nether lips and inserted two fingers. He sucked in a breath. Then exhaled noisily, and in disbelief as she withdrew a mini, vibrating dildo. Its plastic length was coated in her slick juices. He held his breath as she stroked it across her clit, a move that made her lower lips quiver.

  Oh, the temptation. “Come closer,” he beckoned hoarsely. “Let me lick you.”

  “You want a taste?” she teased, the length of the small dildo appearing and disappearing into her tight sheath.

  “Yes,” he begged, thirsty for her woman’s nectar.

  She pulled the dildo out of her sex, flashed him a wicked smile, and shoved the sex toy into his mouth.

  Grant’s first impulse was to gag, but Isabelle straddled his legs and watched him expectantly, two fingers still holding the bottom edge of her toy.

  He could not only taste her in his mouth, he could also smell her intoxicating, musky aroma. It turned him on. With his eyes locked on hers, he sucked on the dildo as she slid it in and out of his mouth. He licked and savored her sweet juices off the warm plastic, more aroused by this kinky act than he’d thought possible. Her eyes lit up in pleasure.

  Grant began to think the evening might turn out all right after all, until Isabelle let go of the dildo and moved away but didn’t take the toy out of his mouth. She rifled through the pockets of her coat and pulled out something he didn’t recognize—and then an object that made him sweat.

  Grant spat out the toy. “What are you going to do with that?”

  He hated the tiny thread of fear threading his query, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she turned with the switchblade cradled in her hand and stared at him.

  What did she plan? Would she cut him? Hurt him? And all because he’d not called her after the best sex in his life?

  “Can’t we talk about this,” he pled.

  “No.” With a wicked light in her eyes, Isabelle asked, “Are you ready?”

  Chapter Four

  The look of fear on Grant’s face pleased Isabelle, as did the bulge in his pants. Poor Grant, warring between so many needs—the two predominant ones being his need to take control and the need to fuck her.

  Knowing his penchant for making noise, she grabbed the leather strap and bit she’d brought along. She dangled them before his eyes. When he opened his mouth to protest, it was a simple matter to put the wooden bit between his teeth and secure the strap around his head. With his voice muffled, he was capable only of grunts.

  Wielding her switchblade, and keeping a smirk on her lips, she methodically popped the buttons off his shirt. For what she had planned, she needed him naked, and she had no intention of untying him to get him into that state. Besides, slicing off his clothes was much more fun, especially when he sucked in his toned lower abdomen as she worked her way lower and lower.

  When she’d taken care of all the buttons except for the one under the band of tape that bound him to the chair, she opened his shirt and bared his muscular chest. His heavy, erratic breathing made his pectorals rise and fall. Holding the knife between her teeth, she placed the palms of her hands over his nipples. They went taut at her touch. His heart raced madly.

  Pleased at his response thus far, she rolled the nubs of his nipples between her fingers and pinched them. A pity he doesn’t have nipple rings. She quite enjoyed making a man gasp as she twisted the piercings and brought him to his knees. The perfect spot for a man to worship. How she loved it when they gazed upon her with glazed eyes as they tongued her wet sex.

  Enough daydreaming. She had more work to do. She slid her hands across Grant’s muscled abdomen until she reached the waistband of his trousers. She slipped the top button out of its loop, and then drew down his zipper.

  His erection poked out of the top of his briefs, its swollen head jerking as she stared at it. She could feel the tension rising in him again, especially when she took the knife from her mouth and went after his underpants. Forget the quiescent behavior she’d enjoyed thus far, a sharp object that close to his cock had him grunting and thrashing beneath her.

  She paused. “Now, now, Grant.” She couldn’t help the mischievous smile that curved her lips. “I’m just going to slice this impediment out of the way, but if you keep bucking like a bronco—well, I won’t be responsible for any damage.”

  Grant immediately quieted, although his erection, if possible, grew even larger. Looks like my instincts were right. Grant might like plain vanilla sex, but the kinky stuff is what really turns him on.

  Isabelle applied her knife to the cottony fabric of his briefs. Alternately slicing and ripping, she pulled the tatters apart, exposing his rigid cock, which strained toward her, begging for attention.

  Inspired, she hopped off his knees and bent over in front of him.

  His gasp was audible even through his gag.

  She grinned. God, I love being i
n control.

  Sweat broke out across Grant’s brow, and he trembled. When his shaft had sprung forth from the remains of his briefs like a jack in the box—surprise!—he’d known fear. Yet even in the midst of it, he couldn’t help being aroused. Isabelle mentally tortured him and, like a masochist, he lapped it up and yearned for more.

  He’d hoped that once she bared his flesh, the teasing would stop and the fun would truly begin. He’d seen the way she eyed his penis as if it was the sweetest treat in the bakery. But instead, she’d bent over and continued the torment. He’d reached the point where he couldn’t decide which would feel better—more slow erotic torture that threatened to make him come? Or finally plunging his cock deep inside her? Either way, his body screamed for release.

  The gag in his mouth prevented speech but couldn’t stop the moan he uttered. With her legs spread and her rounded bottom in the air, he possessed a perfect view of her sex. And not just that wet heaven, but what her fingers were now doing to it.

  Beneath his avid gaze, she spread her slick folds before sliding first one, then two, and finally three fingers inside herself. Not only that, but she inched close enough that his cock head brushed her fingers as they pumped in and out, each gentle stroke rubbing over his sensitized skin. Was it any wonder he trembled?

  Gagged and helpless, Grant groaned. To his secret surprise, he found the feel of the bit in his mouth titillating. She is in control. Fuck. So arousing. He groaned again.

  As if this sound were a signal, Isabelle slid her fingers out of her body’s wet recess and ran the damp digits up and down the length of his cock. Slick honey to lube him, so that when she grasped him firmly at the base, she could use him like an erotic toy, rubbing his swollen tip against her clit.

  At this point, they both panted as she massaged her swollen nub with his mushroom head. Faster and faster. If his hands were free, he would have grabbed her around the waist and slammed his cock into her pussy. Rammed his hard length into her, and bounced her up and down on his lap until she clenched around him.