At His Mercy

"Isabeau! Get in here this instant!"

A shiver of anticipation raced down my spine and I allowed myself time for a smile before jumping up from my desk. This was the second time Mr. Drake called me into his office today, and from his tone, he sounded like he was about to lose it. Just as I'd planned.

I eased open the mahogany door and slipped inside, checking my hair to make sure it hadn't escaped its chignon. Mr. Drake sat on the edge of his desk facing the doorway, perched like a bird of prey. His wavy hair was perfectly in place, but his green eyes had a wild look behind them, like I was trying his last nerve.

And maybe I was.

"Come here." His voice was dangerously low.

I walked toward him slowly, suddenly feeling nervous. What if my plan backfired? What if instead of punishing me like last time, he just fired me instead? I swallowed, my mouth suddenly drier than a cotton ball.

I stopped a couple of feet away from him, but he crooked his finger, beckoning me closer. I gulped and complied, moving forward until we were eye to eye, his gaze boring into me. He was so close now that I could smell the fresh scent of his aftershave just inches from my nose.

"What," he said, "Is this?"

He thrust a piece of paper in front of me, and I suppressed a smirk. The copy I'd made of the boardroom minutes was off center, the edge cut off in a way I knew was making him crazy. Mr. Drake was nothing if not a control freak.

"It's the copy you asked for," I said, innocently.

He grimaced before crumpling the copy into a tight ball.

"This is not the standard of work I require, Isabeau, and I think you know that. Where the hell is your head today?"

He grabbed my hand, making me jump, and shoved the wad of paper into it.

"Get this out of my sight and do it again. RIGHT, this time!"

I waited another moment, hoping he'd say something else, but he just stared at me like I was an idiot.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he growled, and stood, towering over me.

"Yes, Sir," I said, and high tailed it out of there.

I sighed as I recopied the minutes, feeling the sting of embarassment coloring my cheeks as I thought about my gorgeous boss. I'd hoped if I provoked him, he'd lose control again and ask me to bend over his desk, like he had just one week ago. It had been one of the hottest experiences of my life, being totally at his mercy as he spanked my ass red and brought me to orgasm …  All because I was naughty and needed to be punished. 

But where was my punishment now? He said it would never happen again, but I couldn't accept it, not after what had passed between us. I bit my lip anxiously, replaying our interactions over the past few days in my head. He had been nothing but purely professional, if a little gruff at times.

He was still Chase Drake, demanding billionaire CEO, after all, even if he did have one indescretion with his lowly assistant. Maybe that's all I was to him. A replaceable toy that he would never stoop to sleep with, much less date. Now that he'd had his fun, he'd cast me aside.

Who was I kidding? Maybe he was serious when he said he'd never touch me like that again. Never lose control.

I handed him the fresh copy with his afternoon coffee, and he didn't so much as look at me. My heart clenched in my chest, but I kept my chin high, and my eyes impassive as I backed out and took my spot at my desk.

It was like he'd already forgotten that anything had happened.

And maybe you should, too, Isa. Don't get involved. It was a terrible idea from the start, messing around with the boss.

I sighed and lay my head down on the wood, hoping against hope that the clock would speed up and the day would end. And that maybe, I could forget what happened, too.



"Isa … "

I awoke to a gentle hand on my shoulder. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. The room was dim, the lights out, and only the rays of the street light cast a glow through the window. I realized my head was on something hard, and raised up, moaning softly as my back popped. I had a crick in my neck and rubbed it, still groggy and disoriented.

"You fell asleep at your desk."

My eyes widened at the familiar, low voice. Chase Drake was kneeling down next to me, his cufflink gleaming in the beam of light, his face cast in shadow. I knew he was watching me carefully, even though I couldn't see his expression.

"I …  I'm sorry …  I must be a mess."

My hand flew to my hair, trying desperately to smooth down flyaways, but it was hopeless. My bun had come undone, my curls spilling down over my shoulder on one side.

He grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

"Isabeau. Stop."

His touch made me shiver, and a feeling of dread welled up inside of me. I couldn't believe I'd fallen asleep here and let him find me like this. This was beyond making a crappy copy or forgetting cream in his coffee. This was inexcusable. I hung my head.