She rubbed her temples. “I don’t think that.”
“That’s not how it sounds.”
“Really, I don’t. I was just stressed, she kicked off at me, ok? And I didn’t know anything about it. I felt like an idiot.”
“Frank was going to tell you, since he’s your boss.”
“I’m sorry, James.”
I rubbed my palms against my thighs, clammy hands. “Your minute’s up, Lydia, I’m really busy.”
She stood without a word, edging her way to the doorway. I didn’t look up from my screen, cock rising at her humiliation, despite my anger.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” she said, letting herself out.
I didn’t indulge her with an answer.
My email sounded a few minutes later. My cock responded in its usual fashion, jumping on sight of her name in the preview box.
From: Lydia Marsh
Subject: Professionalism
James, I’ve offended you. It was unintentional, and I assure you it’s much more about feeling bad for Emily Barron than it is about you. I would never question your professional integrity. You conduct yourself faultlessly.
Lydia Marsh
Senior Project Co-ordinator, Trial Run Software Group.
I smiled despite myself. My own fucking email spouted back at me.
To: Lydia Marsh
Subject: Re: Professionalism.
I know that’s my email. Switching the names doesn’t make it an original piece of work.
In light of this fact, I feel entitled to plagiarise yours:
Do you mean ‘sorry’?
James
James Clarke
CTO, Trial Run Software Group.
Her reply was through in a heartbeat.
From: Lydia Marsh
Subject: Re: re: Professionalism
Yes. I mean sorry.
Nothing like making someone work for it.
You said you’d remember, should the boot ever be on the other foot. I guess you did.
So, how does it feel to be the injured party?
Lydia Marsh
Senior Project Co-Ordinator, Trial Run Software Group.
I stroked my cock through my suit, the thought of her smug little smile driving me to insanity. I was pissed off, fuming, but still she amused me.
To: Lydia Marsh
Subject: Re: re: re: Professionalism.
Come and find out.
James
James Clarke
CTO, Trial Run Software Group.
I waited for it.
From: Lydia Marsh
Subject: Re: re: re: Professionalism
???
Lydia Marsh
Senior Project Co-Ordinator, Trial Run Software Group.
I must have been fucking insane, but my fingers took on a life of their own.
To: Lydia Marsh
Subject: Re: re: re: re: Professionalism.
You heard me. Get up here, now.
NOW, Lydia.
James
James Clarke
CTO, Trial Run Software Group.
She didn’t dally around, at my door within the minute, leaving me just enough time to close the window blinds. She rapped, faster than usual, slipping inside before I’d even had time to react. She closed the door behind her, then stared at me, keeping her distance.
“James, look, about what I said...”
“What happens to bad girls, Lydia?” She raised her eyebrows, floundering for words. I raised myself from my seat, grabbing my dick through my trousers. “Look what you’ve done to me, Miss Marsh. I think this requires a disciplinary.” I threw her the key to my door, and she caught it in nimble fingers. “Lock it.” She did as instructed, and I caught her hands shaking. It sent a shiver down my spine. “Come here,” I hissed. “I want you over my desk.”
She approached without hesitation, placing herself between me and the desk. I pushed her down by her shoulders, slamming her flat into the desk top. My pens went skidding away, order scattered.
“The noise,” she wheezed. “This is a mistake.”
I pressed into her ass. “It’s certainly a mistake, Lydia, certainly.”
She sucked in her breath as I hitched her skirt, yanking it roughly around her waist. She was wearing white panties, cute little things with a lacy trim. I slid them down around her thighs, groaning as I saw the results of the weekend. Big, dark circles of bruising, one on each ass cheek. The middles were still a beautiful park purple, rimmed with black and green.
“I bruised well this time, didn’t I?” she whispered.
“You should have done. I hit you hard enough.” She rocked back against my fingers as I prodded her. Her flesh still felt ridged, the bruises hard to the touch.
“That feels good,” she breathed.
“You will stay fucking silent, Lydia. Do you understand me?” I growled. She nodded, reaching forward to grip at the edge of the desk. I raised my metal ruler, trailing the cold edge down the crack of her ass. She flinched. “This will hurt.”
I slapped the ruler hard against her thighs and she lurched forward. Still she was silent, only the raspy sound of her agitated breathing loud in the room. I kept an ear out for noise in the corridor. Frank was out golfing, I knew that much, and Vanessa downstairs for the support team meeting with any luck. Just us on the floor. I didn’t share my knowledge with Lydia.