For the remainder of the morning, I work through a load of emails and reports. Fran has also sent through a couple of presentations for Mr. Jones to review, and I’m surprised when she puts a little winky face at the bottom of the email and asks me to check them first.
As I do it, I notice a few typos and several numbers put in incorrectly. I end up fixing the presentations myself and send them back to Fran, explaining what I’ve done.
After about half an hour, she sends me a heart emoji with “life saver” underneath. From the errors she hadn’t picked up, I’d bet anything she’s dyslexic. I checked Ben’s schoolwork for most of high school, and there were similar patterns throughout. His dyslexia is so severe that he tends to avoid math or writing of any kind, which hasn’t helped his job prospects.
By the time lunch rolls around, my head keeps nodding forward at my desk, and I’m fighting to stay awake.
My head is still filled with doubts about Sunday, and in a moment of weakness, I google the Jones family, searching for information about his mother online. Donna Jones appears to be heavily involved in many of the company's charity galas, and there are dozens of pictures of her in pearls and Chanel suits. I start to really worry about my wardrobe.
I can’t afford to buy anything new right now, not with what I have going on with Scott, but I genuinely don’t have a stitch of clothing that isn’t black, and a lot of it is leather. There’s no way I have anything ‘cute and colorful’ for Sunday.
Shit.
I glance at Jones’s door, my lips thinning, as I close my eyes, my mind flooding with images of the sex yesterday.
I still can’t get it out of my head.
I’ve never been like that during sex in my life. With Carrie’s interruption, I’d barely had a chance to analyze my behavior, but on the journey home, and long into a sleepless night, I still couldn’t figure out what had come over me.
I was basically putty in his hands after he spanked me.And why the fuck did that feel so good, anyway?
No one has ever done that to me before, and I can’t say I hated it. Quite the opposite, in fact, I want him to do it again. The second his hand connected with my skin, all the worry, all the fear just evaporated out of my head.
I was left with this blissful peace I’ve rarely known in my life. The sex had been amazing, but it was the silence inside my head I loved the most.
“You’re daydreaming again,” comes a mocking voice behind me, and I rise as Jones walks past me into his office. I follow him, keeping the door wide open, and he smirks as I come up to his desk.
“Something you need to discuss with me?” he asks. “And would you stop being nice to Fran? She is positively beamingright now, and she’s a better employee when she’s in a bad mood.”
“Uh, no, you should be happy she’s happy.”
He actually chuckles at that. It’s a soft, honey-smooth sound, and it makes my stomach twist pleasantly.
I wait as he sets his iPad down and sits in his chair. He doesn’t glance at me again, waiting for me to speak, but I can’t get the words out.
Am I really about to ask this man for help?
“Look, I don’t think this Sunday lunch is a good idea.”
“You don’t have a choice. Anything else you need to say?”
I glare at him, but he simply leans back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.
Why is he so hot?It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at his smug face.
“I wasn’t kidding,” I continue. “You asked me to wear something ‘colorful,’ and that’s not even an option. I haven’t worn anything that isn’t black for over ten years.”
His bright eyes assess me for a long while, and I fight the urge to squirm. Other than during sex, he has rarely said anything about my appearance, and I feel a warm wash of pleasure as he looks me up and down.
Then, he’s standing up again and checking his watch.
“Come with me,” he says, walking past me to the door.
“Where are we going? You have a meeting in an hour.”
“It got moved. Devan’s being an asshole, and I told him to come back when he was prepared to be civil, so it’s tomorrow morning instead. Come. With. Me.”
I shiver, and he sees me do it. I’m so pissed at myself, I don’t even notice him approaching me, and as he passes, even with the door open, he runs a hand over my ass in just the spot where he was hitting me.
