Allison
Gregory makes me do paperwork.
We reach his office that morning, and the place is crawling with thugs. Guys in dark suits roam the halls, not even pretending to be anything other than armed guards. They treat me very respectfully as Gregory dumps me in an office next to the conference room where he works, but I can tell they’re keeping a close eye on me.
“Permits,” Gregory says about ten minutes after we arrive. “Make sure they’re correct.”
“Permits for what?”
“New locations. We’re expanding.” He turns to leave.
“Hold on.” I jump to my feet, gesturing at the pathetic room. “There’s barely any furniture in here.”
“This is the only office with a desk.” His jawline twitches. It’s obvious he’s annoyed.
“How in the world are you running a business from here?”
“It isn’t difficult.”
I roll my eyes, making an annoyed gesture around me. “Gregory. This office looks like a freaking hostage situation.”
“And?” He cocks his head as if he doesn’t understand.
“Businesses are about perception.”
“I thought they were about selling things.”
His smug little grin pisses me off. “We both know that’s part of it, but there’s way more to selling things than just… making stuff available. You need to create an image.”
“Are you trying to brand my company, little wife?”
“I’m trying to make it so anyone you bring in here for a prospective meeting isn’t scared shitless. Gregory, you realize people know who you are, right? They know your reputation. You should be doing everything you can to downplay it.”
He hesitates, clearly considering. “That’s not a terrible point.”
“You want potential partners to come in here, look around, and be amazed at how professional and put together the place looks. Even if it’s all bullshit. Get your goons to carry around folders. Put a few at desks, if only for when you have guests. Hire a freaking receptionist for out front.”
Gregory clasps his hands behind his back. He watches me for a moment, and I try not to let my frustration show. I’m right about this-the office is totally creepy, and anyone that comes in here is going to be freaked out. It’s a small miracle he managed even one deal in a place like this.
But I know men like him. I’ve dealt with them my whole life. He can barely admit to being wrong, much less able to take reasonable advice from his wife.
“I will… consider it.” He clears his throat and I could roll my eyes. Instead, I keep it professional.
“Thank you. Also, along those lines, I’m going to decorate this office and order some supplies.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Oh, actually, it’s extremely necessary. I’m paying for it out of my own personal expense account, which you freely said is unlimited, so it’s not like you mind, right?”
He looks annoyed again. “You’d better be careful, princess.”
“Or else what? You’ll keep on pushing me around?”
“That’s right. I’ll push, and I’ll push, and I’ll push again until you’re down on the ground getting spanked.”
I finally do roll my eyes. “No, thanks. Is there anything else?”
He turns sharply. “Nothing. Though I suggest you remember the hierarchy here.”
“Noted. Forgotten already.”
He shakes his head and leaves. I plop back down in my ancient, uncomfortable office chair, flip open my laptop, and start shopping for something better to sit on that isn’t going to kill my back. Once that’s ordered, I dive into the paperwork.
Everything’s in order. There are only a few minor details to update-addresses to correct, phone numbers to change-but otherwise, things look good. It’s tedious, though, and kills about an hour. By the time I’m done, it’s already after lunch.
I head out into the main office, looking around. Gregory’s still in the conference room, looking at his phone like he wants it to explode. I hesitate, thinking I’d head out and get something to eat at one of the nearby delis, but decide to check in on my husband.
“You look unhappy,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
He glances over. “Explain to me why these little bullshit nothing dispensary chain owners think they can simply ignore my calls?”
I try not to smile, but there’s something satisfying about seeing him knocked down a peg. “Who did you reach out to?”
“Jonathan Jeffers, owns the-”
“Happy Buddies Dispensaries. Sure, I know Jonny.”
Gregory’s face darkens. “Jonny?”
“Everyone calls him Jonny.” I waltz into the office and sit down across from him.
“Let me guess. You’ve met him once or twice?”
“Try a dozen times. He’s really friendly.” I try not to smirk at the look he gives me. “He’s also in his sixties and knows my dad.”
“Of course,” he murmurs. “Could you get me a meeting?”
“Probably,” I admit. “But if you’re trying to get him to sell, I doubt he will. Happy Buddies is his baby. I don’t think it’s even profitable.”
“You said he’s in his sixties? Then he’s thinking about retirement. I can make sure he’s comfortable for the rest of his life.”
I tap my fingers on the table. “That might actually work. He’s got grandkids he’ll want to put through college. If you throw a ton of cash at him and frame it that way…” I trail off, already thinking about how I’d try to nudge Jonny toward selling. He’s an older guy, really affable, big family, the sort of crunchy northwest ex-hippie that would’ve rather cut his own fingers off than deal with a man like Gregory Callahan, but now that generation’s getting older and the reality of retirement’s looming.
As I’m working on a strategy in my head, Gregory stands, walks to the windows, and closes the blinds. One after the other. Click, click, click, until we’re suddenly very alone. I frown at him as he finishes.
“You overstepped your boundaries today.” He turns to me, arms crossed over his chest.
I fight back a wave of annoyed frustration. “Get over it. I’m already being helpful.”
“Perhaps. But I don’t like the idea of you thinking you have free rein now that I allowed you to work in this office.”
“Great, you need to put me in my place. What a big, strong man.”
“That’s exactly right.” He comes around the table toward me. “Stand up.”
“Gregory-”
“Stand up, Allison, or I will drag you to your feet.”
Trembling, both angry and strangely aroused, I rise to face him. Gregory stands over me like he’s looking down a cliff. There’s a strange, intense concentration in his expression.
“Is this what gets you off?” I whisper, meeting that gaze. “Putting me in my place?”
“Yes,” he says, and I don’t think he’s kidding.
“Gregory-”
“Turn around.”
“Absolutely not. We’re at work.”
“We both know this isn’t a fucking business. Turn around, Allison, or I will turn you.”
Shivering, knees trembling, I turn around.
“Palms flat on the table,” he commands.
“You’re being insane,” I say, but I do it.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his hands moving up my shoulders, his lips neck my neck.
I fight back a whimper. I don’t want him to realize how much his commanding attitude arouses me, how much I love this-not until I can’t hold it back any longer.
“Can you give me the email for HR? I think they’ll want to hear about this.”
“Orin is HR. Do you want to give him the details of what I am about to do with you?”
“Probably not,” I murmur, chin tilted down. He grabs my hair and pulls me head back. I gasp as his lips find my throat.
“You delight in making my life more difficult.” He tightens his grip. “But I will admit, you’ve already been helpful.”
“Gregory Callahan, admitting that he was wrong?”
“No, princess. I always knew you could make my business run more smoothly. I simply didn’t want to put you in any danger by allowing you anywhere near this.”
“Now that I’m here, you can’t help yourself, can you?”
“That’s exactly right.” His hands slowly move down my chest, over my breasts, down to my thin belt. He unbuckles it, pulls it off, tosses it aside. I’m breathing hard, a pulse of pure desire running up my throat. His fingers unbutton my slacks, zip them down-
Then he drops to his knees and slowly pulls them off.
“Gregory,” I say, sucking in a breath. “What’s the goal here?”
“The goal is to punish you then to fuck you until you understand your place in all this.”
“You asshole-” But my rage dies on my lips as he stands, one hand back in my hair, pulling it so my chin’s straight up. He buries my mouth with his own as his other hand slides down the front of my panties, and I’m moaning into his lips, moaning against his tongue, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to let my boss manhandle me into submission because it feels too damn good to stop.