His Good Girl

“Good girl.”

I turned away from him toward the couch, my face on fire with a blush, but my lips curled into a large grin.

6

Winter

I was right on time to work the next morning.

After the coffee incident yesterday, I didn’t bother to stop again. I knew a better way to please my new boss than bringing him an espresso. He hadn’t spoken a word to me as I’d waited for a new shirt and shoes, and when they had arrived, he’d once more ordered me to go to the hospital and then take the rest of the day off. I hadn’t wanted to. I’d have rather come back to the office and explore whatever the tension between us was, but I hadn’t wanted to disobey him either.

It was so strange, how much I wanted to please him. We’d only just met, but I was drawn to the power and control that radiated from him. I wanted to see what he was like when he reached the end of that control.

Or experience what he’d do to me if I pushed him to the edge.

My heart was racing with excitement as I entered the building and made my way past reception. Fiona glanced up and gave me a nod of approval.

“Better.”

“Thanks,” I said as I continued down the hall.

Reaching Mr. Maslow’s office, I took a moment to calm myself and appear more professional before opening one of the doors to step inside.

The office was empty.

I frowned and checked my phone for the time. It was exactly eight. Where was he?

What was I supposed to do until he arrived?

Moving to his desk, I glanced across the surface to see if he had left me a note or anything. Nothing. All his files and papers were stacked in neat piles, and there was no unnecessary clutter taking up space. The desk, and in fact the whole office, was immaculate.

Resting my satchel on the floor, I moved around to his big leather chair. I brushed my fingers across its back, then glanced up at the door, listening hard. When there was no sign of his approach, I slid into the seat with a sigh. It was firm, but comfortable. I felt instantly more powerful sitting here, behind his massive desk, breathing in the woodsy scent of his aftershave lingering around me. With a mischievous grin, I threw my feet up on the desk and pretended I was a big-shot businesswoman with the world at my beck and call.

And not the horrible loser whose fate lies in someone else’s hands.

“Enjoying yourself, Ms. Rivers?”

I yelped in shock at the sound of his voice, dropping my feet back to the hard floor. Spinning in his chair, I found him standing in a doorway I hadn’t even known was there, his muscular arms folded and his eyes flaming with disapproval.

When I tried to stand, I gulped hard with the realization that fear had glued my ass to his seat. “Sir! I’m-I’m so sorry … I didn’t know you were here.”

Striding forward, he pulled the door behind him shut. It blended seamlessly into the wall.

“So that means you have permission to sit in my chair and place your feet on my desk?” he demanded.

Shit, fuck! Fuck, shit!

“No, sir, that’s not …” I didn’t know what to say. I’d been so determined to make him happy today, and I was blowing it all over again. “I-I just—”

“Did you think I would be more lenient in my expectations of your behavior after yesterday? Is that it, Ms. Rivers?”

“No, I—”

“Clearly letting you off the hook so easily was a mistake.” He prowled toward me. Leaning down, he braced both his hands on the arms of the chair, caging me in. Lowering his voice to a growl, he said, “The level of your disobedience, Ms. Rivers …”

My breath left me in a rush and my heart raced as I stared up into his eyes. He didn’t look angry anymore, but he was no less intimidating. I felt my panties dampen as he gazed down at me with blatant desire in his eyes, though I couldn’t tell it if was desire for me, or for what he was going to do next.

Sucking in a breath, I rasped, “Are you going to fire me, sir?”