The Alexandra Series (45 page)

Standing back he took aim, and bringing the implement forward, the leather cracked against her ass fiercely. The smack awakened her every nerve. The punishment began slow and methodically. She deserved the harshest treatment, one that would go on for some time with an orderly precision. The manipulating little bitch had defied his instructions for the meeting, made a mockery of the retreat, and then expected that a hearty chastisement would make ample amends. It made him furious.

Reggie’s anger soon made him forget ‘slow and methodical’, precise and orderly. He let the spanker sizzle.

“Ah gawd!” the girl roared, even as tried to squelch her loudest cries, being mindful of the noise and where she was. Though as the spanker snapped harder yet, she was losing control of her replies. Her “ah nos…”, “Oh pleeeese…” and “gawd nooooos,” came in as rapid fire staccato as the smacks of the leather against her skin. She was smart enough not to try and run from the punishment. Then of course, she never would. After all, she’d practically asked for it. But as Reggie continued the grueling swats, the pain was becoming difficult to bear.

It was then that she dug in, became more submissive still, going into that place where she liked it this fierce. In that place of surrender, she craved that hellish edge of hurt, that all consuming feeling knocking out every bit of sass and bite inside. While it was happening, it was sheer torture, especially at the point when Reggie wasn’t pausing even for a second. She didn’t think she could stand another blow. But in the end, getting punished this way was a fine and jubilant cleansing, something to relish when it was over.

As Reggie finally slowed the frenzied pace, he saw the plump round targets of Cassie’s ass, as wild a red as he could make them. In places they were tinged with purple, at that point where more would come close to breaking the once smooth skin. It had been the perfect discipline, and with an unexpected abruptness, he stopped and dropped the paddle to the floor.

Cassie waited in silence. It seemed deafening after the sound of leather and flesh making contact, and the accompanying roars of woe that had filled the tiny upper room. In that quiet interim, Reggie caught his breath while his secretary did the same.

The moment that followed was not one Reggie relished. Normally at this juncture, he would offer some stern reproach to his well worked submissive, or simply descend on her and take pleasure from her heated body. But the feeling that flowered inside him this time was uncommon, nothing like every other time, and it was quite distinct. Not the kind of man to mull things over, Reggie made decisions swiftly and this one was no different.

“Cassie, this is the last time this will happen,” he announced. “Another deliberate foul up like the one you’ve made this weekend, there’ll be no corporal punishment. I’ll do what most executives would do with incompetent secretaries. I’ll fire you.”

Cassie was too shocked to speak, and by the time she was able to find any words at all, the door behind her had opened and closed, and she was left in the room by herself to absorb the surprising message.

***

When Reggie descended the massive wood carved staircase to the great room, the cool reserve of the last half hour had been replaced by a charming grin. Few would sense the turmoil under the surface calm and congeniality. Even Reggie would not acknowledge it while there were people expecting his leadership, easy efficiency, and social good humor. He didn’t particularly like this public persona, though it was one he performed well, and Dwight was delighted to see it at last.

“Storm’s building bad, Reg,” Dwight told him as he approached. Reggie looked out the two story window, seeing the snow beginning to fall so heavily he could hardly see past the trees, let alone the lake beyond.

“Sort of knocks out all our plans,” Reg remarked, almost as if he was disappointed that the retreat would abruptly end.

“So what would you suggest?” Dwight let him make the final decision.

“Better pack up,” he replied. “We certainly don’t need everyone bedding down in here.”

Dwight agreed. “Where’s Cassie?” he asked. “She’s supposed to have all the room reservations handled.”

“She’ll be down momentarily,” Reggie said. “If she has any courage at all.”

Dwight ignored the inference. “You leaving too?” he asked.

“I’d planned to stay a few days, call it that vacation you wanted me to take.”

“Cassie staying too?” Dwight asked.

“No,” Reggie snapped abruptly. The only emotion he’d show was the trace of anger remaining in his voice.

The retreat dismissed minutes later and everyone scrambled to leave, either for lodging in town or to get out of the mountains altogether. It might be a long drive out. After showering his employees with a few well timed remarks to cap the retreat’s business aims, he socialized for a few minutes, and then retreated upstairs to wait for the quiet he was accustomed to at the lodge to descend around him.

Chapter Two

An hour later, Reggie thought the last of his employees was gone when he heard Dwight shout a goodbye from below, and the huge front door clicked. Dwight’s rented Cherokee roared outside, and then slipped quietly into the snowy beyond.

Reggie took a deep breath.

The peace was freedom to him.

The quiet regenerated his spirit, though it allowed the annoying moments with Cassie to return, along with a twinge of regret. Regret, not that he had ended their two year game of dominance/submission; but that it had to end. He didn’t want to count the times that he faced such dead ends with women.

Thinking the silence would go on all night, he was startled to hear the sound of paper crackling, as if someone was fast thumbing through a magazine. Jumping from his chair, he walked toward the balcony, and looked down to see an auburn-haired woman sitting on a couch below, making her way through the pages of some journal.

Taking the stairs quickly, Reggie was at the landing when he finally spoke.

“Who are you?” he blared without an ounce of friendliness in his voice.

The woman looked up at him, her face a rosy pink, and with eyes so green he could even tell the color from the distance between them.

“Jocelyn Killian,” she answered plainly, with a delicate smile breaking out across her lustrous face.

She was chewing gum and Reggie hated that.

“And what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, as he continued down the stairs to the main floor.

“My car’s not starting,” the woman answered. “I called the garage down the road. They should be here soon.” She glanced at her watch.

“When did you call?” he asked.

“Forty five minutes ago, maybe,” she replied, not at all ruffled that she’d seen nothing of a tow trunk, and the snow was getting heavier each minute that went by.

“Where were you an hour ago when everyone was leaving?” he asked.

“Building a snowman outside,” she said. She offered up a glorious smile that lit her face so Reggie couldn’t help but be pleased by the fresh, natural beauty of her infectious style.

Still, he hated the way her lips smacked as she chewed her wad of gum.

“You were building a snowman?”

“Oh! It’s been years since I’ve done anything so frivolous, I couldn’t help myself. And if you don’t mind my saying so, things were getting rather boring in here.”

“Who
are
you?” Reggie asked again, realizing that he’d never laid eyes on the woman.

“Jocelyn Killian,” she repeated.

“I know that, but who
are
you?”

“You mean, why am I here?” She had a sweet smirk on her face.

He waited silently for an answer.

She rose from her seat, “I’m a management consultant, Killian Management Resources.” She held out her hand to Reggie. “Dwight hired me for a six months productivity study.”

“Ah!” Reggie remembered now. “So I hired a firm that builds snowmen?”

“This was a pleasure event I was told,” she said. She was still chewing gum, and it still annoyed him. But he was not at all annoyed by her looks, especially the delicate changing green hue of her sparkling eyes. He recognized a warmth and tenderness from her that seemed odd considering the hard driving reputation of her firm.

“Well,” he said, “we should have met before when we could talk, and we’ll certainly have to make arrangements when we’re in the office, Tuesday perhaps. But now, we’d better get you down the road before you get snowed in with me.”

“Um, my car?” she reminded him, walking to the window. He joined her looking out at the fast falling snow.

For just an instant standing close to her, Reggie felt her warm body graze against his own. He liked the feeling though the sound of gum smacking lips was too much. “Would you please put that gum in the trash!” he said when she turned around.

The request shocked her, but taking the graying gum from her mouth she looked around for a place to deposit it, finding a wastebasket near.

“Maybe, I should call the garage again,” she said. She could tell her welcome was running out.

While she made her call, Reggie disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later as Jocelyn Killian put the phone down.

“I’m afraid the garage won’t be coming out with the tow truck,” she said, feeling a little lost for what to do next.

“I see.”

“They said they were flooded with calls, and getting all the way out here would be too difficult.”

“Perhaps I should try to get your car started,” Reggie offered. He walked toward the door, grabbed his jacket and set off for the silver blue Mazda, the only car remaining other than his own. He knew that even if he could get Miss Killian’s car started, it might be extremely difficult to get it down the drive. But not wanting an uninvited house guest for the evening, no matter how pretty she was, he decided he had to try. Climbing into the vehicle, Jocelyn handed him the keys, and with a little patience he toyed with it until he had the engine running.

“You’re a miracle worker!” she exclaimed. But as Reggie put the vehicle in gear, he looked around seeing that nearly a foot of snow had fallen and more was coming down. The green eyed woman was going nowhere that night. He turned off the ignition and sat back in the seat, an unequivocal expression of disgust on his face. Jocelyn instantly sensed his irritation.

“Why don’t I try, what would it hurt?” she suggested.

“You’re not leaving here,” Reggie snapped. “Not tonight.” He exited the car and closed the door, trying not to slam it.

Returning to the Lodge, the two spent five minutes dusting themselves off in the doorway, neither comfortable with the situation or the gloomy silence.

“Well, Jocelyn Killian, there’s a room, upstairs, second door on the left, down the hallway. The sheets are fresh and you can sleep there tonight,” he informed her, maintaining a formal and uneasy distance.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” she apologized. “I should have had someone else try when it didn’t work for me.”

“Nothing we can do about it now,” Reggie conceded.

Jocelyn stared at him with a curious expression on her face. “You know for a man that can be so enchanting, you are cold as ice.”

He looked surprised, not by the assessment, but the fact that she would so easily voice it. “And that’s a problem for you?” he asked.

She continued to stare at him. “No, I guess it shouldn’t be,” she said. She sighed heavily, picked up her over-night bag and went upstairs.

An hour later, Jocelyn came downstairs to see Reggie sitting by the fire he’d just stoked.

“I hope you didn’t expect me to stay in my room,” she said.

“No, not at all.” His overt annoyance seemed to have disappeared. “In fact, I made some sandwiches and there’s some chili you can microwave in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

Jocelyn was slightly warmed by the more amiable Reggie, and she quickly padded off to the kitchen. She was famished. Returning to the living room, she sat down with her dinner, and for the first time looked about the enormous room with a careful scrutiny. She found Reggie’s taste in furnishings unique, seeing some unusual decorations on the walls. She was tempted to ask about them, but sitting across from her in an easy chair, he was so engrossed with work papers, she kept mum.

“That was very good, thank you,” she said, finishing the meal. “I’ll just take this to the kitchen.”

Reggie looked up and nodded at her absently.

Returning from the kitchen, Jocelyn wandered about, taking some time to inspect a curious exhibit on the far side of the great room. Attached to the wall was a display of ancient leather paraphernalia, whips, leather collars, chains, straps and a variety of implements like nothing Jocelyn had ever seen before. The intention of this collection eluded her.

“What’s all this?” she asked, too intrigued to contain the comment.

“They are tools for punishment,” Reggie said.

“Really?” she replied.

She ran her hand along a leather strap and shivered.

“Punishing who?” she asked.

“Bratty woman,” Reggie said arrogantly.

She nodded, getting pictures in her head that were strangely compelling.