Leaning forward and catching Derek-or was it Darren?-by surprise, she whispered in his ear, something so naughty his eyes widened. Then Isabelle flicked a glance at Grant, who watched them with a thunderous look on his face.

She curved her lips in a naughty smile and kept up the intimate talk and touches with her temporary pawn until Grant left the bistro tight lipped and stiff legged. With her audience gone, she abruptly stood, leaving Darren-or was it Derek?-confused.

“Hey, where are you going?” he called after her.

Isabelle paid him no mind as she walked out of the bistro and headed for her nail salon. She wanted to be gone from the office long enough to give Grant the wrong idea.

With her tummy tingling, she had to hold in the urge to giggle. She couldn’t wait to see the sparks fly when she got back.


* * * * *

The longer Isabelle stayed out for lunch, the more Grant simmered. He’d already sneaked back to the bistro and seen that she and the other man-a man he longed to punch out-were no longer there. Had they gone off somewhere together? Was she even now letting that stranger touch her?

No. She’s mine! Grant cursed and punched the wall in his office. The pain of impact had him sucking his knuckles and bringing his anger and insane jealousy back under control. He didn’t understand his sudden possessiveness. All he knew was that he wanted to be the only one she touched and aroused.

He didn’t want to share her, but she obviously didn’t feel the same way. And when she sauntered in almost forty-five minutes later with a smile on her face and freshly coiffed hair, Grant glowered. He hated not being in control, even if the situation excited him.

“Whatever is wrong?” she asked when she finally came into his office. Her face was all smiles and sunshine.

“How was your lunch?” he snapped, unable to stop the insane jealousy that consumed him.

Isabelle’s lips curved in a sensual smile that made him, even in his anger, go rock hard.

“Delicious,” she said with a purr.

Grant growled in response. He had no right to feel jealous, because he’d been the one to ignore her the week before. But damn it, he regretted that now.

“Listen, Isabelle,” he said, “about what happened…”

“Don’t worry, Grant. I understand perfectly. You don’t want to be with me, and I’m sorry about what I did to you on Friday. It was terribly naughty of me. I promise it won’t ever happen again.”

Then, with a wiggle of her heart shaped ass, she left, closing his door behind her and leaving Grant despondent.

How could he make her understand that he wanted things to change? That he yearned for her to take charge of him again?


* * * * *

Isabelle sat at her desk and smiled. She’d seen the confusion on Grant’s face-and the desire, as well. But he hadn’t quite reached the point of needing her more than he needed air to breathe. But he’s close.

Her plan was moving along perfectly. Actually, she’d almost completed the first phase-the conquering of her boss. Soon Grant, a commanding male in public, would be groveling at her feet. She couldn’t wait to hear him beg. Just the thought of him being on his knees, ready to indulge her every whim, made the crotch of her panties go wet.

With a quick peek to see that no one was coming, she slipped off her damp panties and stuffed them into the top drawer of her desk on top of her Rolodex.

One quick phone call later, she’d set the next part of her operation in motion. Fighting hard not to giggle in excitement-although the crux of her thighs was damp-she gathered her coat and purse and ducked out of the office early. Her next destination? Home, where she needed to get ready for the night’s upcoming adventure.


* * * * *

A firm knock at his door made Grant frown. That didn’t sound like Isabelle. “Come in.”

The door opened, and a freckled faced intern peeked in. “Excuse me, sir, but I’ve got an urgent package for Ms. Isabelle Garret. She doesn’t seem to be at her desk.”

Grant glanced at the clock. Still a few minutes shy of quitting time. He got up and walked into the vestibule “Is her coat gone?”

The boy shrugged.

Grant looked around and noticed that the coat tree now held only his jacket, and that Isabelle’s computer had been shut down. She left early without saying a word to me?

“Just leave the package on her desk. She’ll see it in the morning.”

“Oh no, sir.” The intern shook his head. “I was told to give this to Ms. Garret today personally,”

“I see.” A thought popped into Grant’s head and refused to leave. “Why don’t you give it to me? I have to go out her way anyhow, and I’ll make sure she gets it tonight.” The lie slipped smoothly from his lips.

The freckled faced young man didn’t catch the lie or care. With another shrug and a brief thank you, he handed over the package and left.

Now to find Isabelle’s address. Grant pulled open the top drawer of her desk where he’d seen her hide the Rolodex. He paused and with a hooked finger, pulled out a skimpy scrap of lace. Isabelle’s underwear.

Unable to resist, he brought the panties to his face and inhaled. Her sweet scent surrounded him, and the dampness of her juices wet his lips.

Suddenly more randy than a teenager watching his first porn video, Grant walked back into his office and locked the door. If he didn’t want to embarrass himself with Isabelle, he should take care of his turgid problem before he reached her place.

Unzipping his slacks, he pushed them down, sat in his chair, and pulled out his hard cock. Wrapping the soft, scented panties around his shaft, he stroked himself. He closed his eyes and put his head back, breathing deeply of her scent, which seemed to permeate the air. He thought of the tiny piece of fabric being so close to her body, intimately so. He stroked himself visualizing her perfect pink pussy, remembering how she’d tasted when she’d come on his tongue.

Stifling a shout, Grant shot his load into her panties, his rigid cock pulsing.

Damn. Even absent, she packed a potent sexual punch.

After redressing, he scribbled her address on a sheet of paper and exited the office, the soiled panties tucked into his pocket and the package under his arm.

Tonight, he’d make Isabelle see they were meant for each other. But first, he needed a quick shower and a shave.

He wanted to be at his best when he tried to convince her.


* * * * *

Isabelle answered the door in a short silky robe that gaped to reveal the curved swell of her breasts. Grant bit back a groan and restrained an urge to sweep her up into his arms and devour her. Or how about dropping to my knees and sliding my face between the folds of her robe to nuzzle that sweet pussy?

She seemed surprised to see him, but let him into her front hallway.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms under her tits, which only pushed them together more temptingly instead of hiding them.

“Delivering a package.” He handed it over. And I’ve got a bigger package for you between my legs. Grant couldn’t seem to stop the dirty thoughts from running mental images in his head. He had to make her see how much he needed her. How much he wanted her.

“Thanks for bringing it. Bye.” She turned and walked away, heading off into the recesses of her townhome.

“Isabelle, wait,” he cried, following her.

She whirled, her eyes flashing. “What do you want from me?”

“You,” he said. “Only you.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she said coldly.

He hesitated, wondering if he should leave. The thought of never touching her again held him in place, however, and gave him the courage to try again. “Listen, can’t we start over? I made a mistake. I see that now. I want to be with you. What can I do to prove that?”

“Would you do anything?” With a crooked smile, she walked back toward him, the edges of her robe flapping open, displaying the fact that she wore nothing underneath. She looked at him expectantly with one arched brow.

His mouth went dry, and he whispered, “Anything,”

“Be careful what you promise.”

“Tell me what I have to do to prove myself to you.” He would do anything just to touch her again-or, even better, to have her touch him. “Please, Isabelle.”

“Will you let me do whatever I want? Will you let me punish you again and use you in whatever way I see fit?”

“Yes.” Grant shuddered at her words. Quick flashes of the images he’d saved on the hard drive inside his mind ran through his head. Could he be so lucky? “I will do anything you command…“

She smiled.

Grant paused, and then remembered the one word he’d longed to say since he’d first seen her dressed in dominatrix gear. “Mistress.”

“Come with me then, my pet.” She turned again and strode away, her round ass swinging beneath her satiny robe.

Already hard and shaking from the promise he’d seen in her smile, Grant followed eagerly behind her as she led him into her bedroom. A room he vaguely recalled from the Saturday he’d drunkenly seduced her. Or had it been the other way around? Perhaps she’d seduced him instead.

“Strip and wait for me,” she ordered. Then she left the room.

Grant quickly complied, shucking his clothes and piling them on her dresser until he stood naked and erect. Anticipation thrummed through him.

Her voice drifted to him from the next room. “Lie on the bed on your stomach, with your arms and legs spread.”

They were easy instructions to understand, but hard ones to follow with a cock that didn’t want to be crushed. Tucking it under his stomach, Grant lay on the bed and spread his limbs as she had commanded. His shaft beat against his lower belly like a separate being.