My Naughty Little Secret (8 page)

“Siobhan, I’m not going to tell you again, I really don’t like you swearing at me like that,” he warned, and I got that feeling down in the pit of my stomach. I really didn’t know why he made me feel like that.

“Why, what are you going to do about it?” I challenged.

“Right now, I’d like to get you into my office and lean you across the desk and spank you ‘til you beg for mercy. It’s bad enough swearing, but now you’re deliberately goading me. Don’t push it.”

Crikey, he was serious. Mid-morning, I was called to reception and was stunned to collect a large basket of deep pink roses—I hadn’t even thrown out the last flowers yet. At this rate, my house was going to be like a florist shop. The card read: “These are the colour I like to see on your cheeks.”

“Fuck him,” I thought, laughing. I knew too well which cheeks he was talking about and I remembered his threat. On the way back to the office, I bumped into James and Michael, arguing again.

James stopped to admire the flowers. “What’s the occasion?” he asked curiously.

“Oh, just some half-mad stalker,” I answered, glowering at Michael, who had the audacity to laugh. That man had a nerve of steel. James looked at Michael fleetingly as he laughed and for a brief moment I worried that he was aware of the undercurrent, but it was so momentary that I probably imagined it. He hardly knew Michael well enough to catch such subtle nuances.

When I went up to lunch, surprise, surprise, the resident stalker was in the canteen. Damn him, could he not go back to being an antisocial pig? Again he indicated the empty chair and I plonked ungraciously into it.

“This is so discreet, Michael,” I remarked with as much sarcasm as I could. “So were the flowers. I s’pose I’m meant to thank you?”

“Aw, relax, Siobhan, haven’t we sat together before? What’s the big deal? Who knows where the flowers came from? And yes, I believe it’s customary to say thanks. Anyway, there’s something I wanted to say to you.”

“Oohh, goodie, I can hardly wait, and that is?” I scathed.

“You need to remind D-James of your name every time you meet him; he keeps calling you Shove-up.”

“Oh, no,” I cringed, “I thought Shove-on would make it easy…”

“Oh, yeah, too easy,” he teased. “I told him I had something I’d like to shove up…”

“MICHAEL,” I shouted. Others in the canteen looked around.

He was laughing. “Christ, Siobhan, relax, it was a joke.” It didn’t feel much like a joke; my face was boiling and even the tips of my ears felt sunburnt. I wanted to punch him at that moment.

“Whoa, temper, temper,” he teased, making my green eyes blaze even more. I was beginning to think I liked disapproving Michael way more than admiring Michael. How the hell did I get myself into this mess?

“I told you yesterday, I don’t want anyone at work knowing my business. If you don’t like it, you’ll have to find someone else to play with.”

“I’m not playing anything. This is real, whether you like it or not,” he snapped.

“Now who is being touchy?” I retaliated. I was delighted that I had sent his playful persona running for the hills. It was too imprudent.

I left the table in annoyance. Was it really too much to ask for a bit of discretion? I wanted to roar at him that it’d only been one date, that I had no idea how I felt about him and I really didn’t want to play the whole relationship out in full view of the entire Banbury staff—if you could even call it a relationship. How many of them would be waiting to see me fall flat on my face? He followed me down to the office and shut the door behind him.

“Good God, you’re one hot-headed woman,” he thundered. “Don’t walk off on me like that again. I was just trying to explain that I think something good is starting here. I can see I’m going to have to spank some of that temper out of you.”

“How dare you…” I started when I heard the door opening.

James was looking for Myra. He took one long look at both of us and asked me if everything was ok. Great, now Michael has brought it to his attention too. I was getting more vexed by the second. Things were definitely not going according to plan.

“Just go away, Michael. Right now I don’t ever want to go out with you again. I asked for one thing, privacy, and already it seems the whole damn store is looking on. Just forget about it, all of it,” I spat.

Chapter Seven

It was one hell of a long afternoon. Why did I have to lose my temper? Now I had called off the date and I couldn’t back down. It seemed that was that. And he was right; there was something different about this. Damn him, damn work, and damn my hot head. I kept my head down for the afternoon and tried, quite unsuccessfully, to concentrate on the job at hand. I was running the month-end payroll and really had to focus. Every time my extension rang with the updates to the timesheets, my heart leapt. I was hoping it would be him. But why should he ring? I’d just given him his marching orders. I could just pick up the telephone myself, but that would mean admitting I was wrong, and even worse, admitting that he had gotten to me.

The minute five-thirty came round, I was out that door as fast as my legs could carry me. And the worst thing was there would be no sympathy from Claire; she had already made it clear that she thought I was off my rocker. And Tara just didn’t do sympathy—men were chew toys to her. The tube journey was hell on wheels. People were crammed up against me pushing and shoving. I was tense and irate. I needed to go for a swim or a workout or something before I flipped my lid. The aqua-aerobics, I decided; water always calmed me.

As I got my things out of my locker after the class, I saw three missed calls from Michael’s number and the first thing I felt was relief. At least he had tried to contact me. I dressed as quickly as I could and listened to my voicemails. The first two were pleasant, asking me to return his call. The third was more irate.

“This is getting ridiculous, ring me!”

“Jeez, can a girl not go for a swim in peace?” I greeted him as he answered his phone.

“Shiv! Hi, I thought you were ignoring my calls.” The relief in his voice was evident.

“I’m sorry, I was a bit unreasonable,” I volunteered. What? Did I just apologise to a man? Uh oh, that was a really bad precedence to be setting. I had to regain my standing urgently. “But I warned you I didn’t want anyone to know, and you just wouldn’t listen.” I accused. Phew, good recovery; he was back in the wrong.

“Crumbs, yesterday I was shocked that I spanked you, now I can’t help but feel if ever there was a woman in need of a damn good spanking, it’s you. Are you always like this? I’ll have my work cut out for me.”

That was the second time today he threatened to spank me and yet again, I was getting hot and aroused at the thought of it. I liked the no-nonsense tone; it sent shivers down my spine. I knew I was going to back down about Wednesday. He anticipated me:

“As it happens, I can’t make Wednesday, I forgot I have a prior commitment.”

Disappointment struck me like a thunderbolt. “Oh, ok.” I said quietly. Was this my brush-off? And it was good enough for me, if truth be told.

“So it’s tomorrow. And I’m cooking for you.”

My initial reaction was thankfulness, but in a flash I realised that yet again, I wasn’t asked, I was told. Damn cheek. He set me in such a spin, there was excitement and resentment combined. I kept control of my temper this time.

“And where do I come into this? Do I get a say? Do I even need to turn up?” I asked, my voice dripping with derision.

“Nope, bring a change of clothes to work tomorrow. And you are going to pay for your little show of temper today too.”

“Now how could I refuse an offer like that?” I sneered.

“It’s no offer, it’s an order. Goodnight.” Oh, he had the measure of me all right. He must have thought long and hard about how to play it, because now I was weak at the knees. I’d be there, with a change of clothes, no mistake. I was fleetingly aware of my still-tingling behind and was secretly looking forward to more of the same. This was a new me. I didn’t recognise myself, but I was excited as hell. And it seemed that Michael relished his new role too. What beast had I unleashed?

* * *

Yet again, my extension rang as I was just coming through the door. This time I had no doubt it was Michael, as he had just seen me pass by his open door.

“Good morning, Michael,” I said into the receiver.

“Miss Brennan, it’s James, I’d like to see you about that industrial injury case. Can we say nine-thirty?”

Fuck! Nooo! Was there no end to my humiliation? And this time I had no one to blame but myself.

“Shove-on, James. Yes, I’ll be there.”

Michael was standing inside my door laughing when I turned around.

“So you wanted discretion…” he teased. Damn, he’d heard it too. He came over to me and spoke very quietly. “…I trust you brought a change of clothes? Now I think you know what’s coming later, so just to remind you, I want you to go to the ladies’, remove your panties, and give them to me.”

“You must be joking. I can’t spend the day at work with no knickers.” I could feel the excitement mounting. I couldn’t—could I?

“
Now
, Siobhan, and bring them to my office. If you don’t, I’ll go twice as hard on you later. And for every minute you argue, there’s an extra ten smacks.”

My knees were weak and my breathing was shallow and raspish. This was hot. I quickly scarpered off and did as I was told. I shut his door and handed them over. He fingered the soft cotton and his eyes lit in excitement. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing me hard, like the first day. I was trembling.

“Now off you go—James will be waiting.”

I watched him stuff my knickers into his pocket as I backed towards the door. My lips felt bruised from his kiss and I was acutely aware of my sex; it felt hot, damp, and on edge. It was the most incredibly erotic experience of my life. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the day; I wanted him to take me there and then. Suddenly discretion was the least of my worries. I don’t know if I was more shocked at Michael or myself. I could feel the cool lining of my skirt swish against my bare buttocks and a draughtiness about my pussy as I walked to James’ office. I hoped my face didn’t betray my arousal as I knocked on his door.

“Ah, Miss Brennan, come on in,” he said, smiling.

I didn’t bother telling him my name again; I’d said it on the phone not fifteen minutes earlier. I was beginning to think he just liked calling me Miss Brennan. Besides, I was somewhat distracted. We discussed the case, which very quickly cooled my ardour, and I briefed him on where I was at with the solicitors. I gave him a synopsis on where we stood with the insurance company. All in all, we were in a strong position; the person who had witnessed the employee spilling the water was willing to testify in court or at a tribunal, and had already given me an excellent written statement. It was pretty much an open-and-shut case and the insurance company wasn’t in the least concerned.

“You’ve done really well on this. Myra’s most impressed. She’s anxious that you handle the upcoming appraisals now. She wants you to be ready for promotion in the event she should leave.”

Whoa, hold on. Myra quit Banbury’s? No way. There was no personnel director here, so the buck stopped with Myra. I didn’t want her job and I certainly didn’t feel ready for it. At least in Lynham’s, there’d been a few layers of a safety net.

“Myra’s not leaving, is she?” I asked anxiously.

“No, not at the moment, but she knows I intend to retire in a few months and she feels she may move on after that. But since she has made her intentions clear, I want to give you the opportunity to be prepared to step into her shoes. I haven’t mentioned it to Dermot or Michael just yet, but I will very soon.”

Dermot was the finance director, and he had been with Banbury’s for years. I knew he and James went to school together. Myra had been here for fifteen years and she and James were also very close. Where the hell did Michael fit into the mix, I wondered? He only just started before me, as a department head I knew, but still. It seemed he was in quite a position of trust here. Again I thought back to all of the different occasions I’d seen them together. Either they were arguing furiously or chatting intimately. I was so absorbed in the news that I quite forgot that:

a: I was knickerless.

b: I had a date.

c: I was going to get a spanking.

The day flew by in spite of my earlier apprehensions that it would crawl.

Myra set me up with all the appraisals information. I had to schedule the interviews, ensure there was adequate cover on the shop floor while they were going ahead, review last year’s appraisals, and check out the budget that had been allowed for pay rises. I hadn’t even time for lunch, and when five-thirty came I wasn’t free to leave. I rang Michael’s extension to tell him I’d be delayed.

“Ok, I’m going home to put the food in the oven, but you’re to ring me when you’re done; you are
not
to walk up to the apartment on your own.”

“It’s only three minutes up the road,” I argued.

“Jesus, Siobhan, does everything have to be a confrontation with you? Just ring me,” he warned, reminding me about what I was facing into.

Above all days, James landed down to go through the appraisals procedure and before I knew it, my watch read seven-thirty. I was starting to get anxious and when James finally left, I grabbed my change of clothes and legged it out of the building, forgetting to call Michael in my haste. I crashed into him on the steps again! He grabbed me to steady me and then kissed me.

“Well, that’s very discreet,” I complained.

“And you were supposed to ring,” he retorted sharply.

“Sorry, I forgot, James kept me and it was late.”

We walked up to his apartment and the smell of food was divine.
Coq au vin
, prepared yesterday and cooked today. A girl could really get used to this treatment.

“Food first, spanking later.”

Oh, God, I’d suddenly lost my appetite, I wanted to skip the food, but he had gone to so much trouble that I didn’t dare. Actually, it was delicious. I’d missed lunch and I was starving and so ate greedily. It was washed down with a cool glass of Chablis. I brought up the subject of James’ retirement. He seemed surprised that I knew, but for some reason I didn’t mention that Myra might also leave. I guess I didn’t want him to know. We packed the dishwasher and the sexual tension was starting to charge the air. We both knew what was next. He surprised me by calling me, not for my spanking but to look at his laptop.