The Fighter's Secretary(7)

By: Ann Mayburn

“About what?”

“Business, of course.”

“Mr. Ortega—”

“No more arguing. Come.”

The total arrogance in his tone, the demand, the sheer power in his voice had her following him before she was aware of it. As she stared at his back while he led her to the small dressing area sectioned off from the showers, she called herself a hundred and fifty different types of fool for allowing him to manipulate her like this. She cursed her need to submit, the joy she found in letting a strong man lead her, the sheer sexual bliss that came from serving a strong male even as her clit ached for the need to be touched. Something was different about Dallas today, as if he were no longer bothering to hide his natural dominance from her.

It was both sexy and scary as hell.


“This is really uncalled for.”

He turned and gave her a look that had her sitting before she knew it. Once again his full, kissable lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Good girl.”

“Would you stop saying that? It’s demeaning.”

“Why? Would you rather be a bad girl?” He leaned down to remove his shoes, then socks, leaving her staring at him when he hooked his thumbs into his shorts. She quickly turned when she realized he was going to get naked right here, right now.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking a shower. I usually don’t wear clothes when I do that.”

His amused tone set her teeth on edge. “This is most inappropriate.”

“You, of all people, don’t have much room to talk about being inappropriate.”

“Excuse me?” She almost turned to look, but caught herself at the last second.

“You heard me,” came his voice from the other side of the lockers. A moment later the shower turned on. “In fact, let’s discuss your inappropriate actions.”

Her heart gave a sickening thud and she swallowed hard when she wondered if he’d somehow found out about her little masturbation session in his office. There was no way he could have known. She was sure she was alone and she’d returned…oh shit.


“Yes?” she whispered then cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Did you know that stealing anything over three hundred dollars is considered grand theft in the state of Florida? Like, oh, just for example, a six-thousand-dollar piece of gold-and-diamond jewelry. Unconventional jewelry, some might even call it kinky, but valuable none the less.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, nausea turning in her stomach. Words fled her and her eyes burned as she wondered if she was about to be fired, or worse, arrested. Obviously she’d forgotten to put the nipple clamps back and they’d somehow become lost. The last time she’d seen them they’d been rolled up in his T-shirt. If someone had just grabbed the shirt and tossed it into his laundry bag that the cleaning service picked up daily they were no doubt long gone. She’d tried to find them the next morning, but had been unable to locate them. When Dallas hadn’t said anything, not that he really would say anything about missing nipple clamps, she’d hoped her indiscretion would go unnoticed.

But holy hell, those nipple clamps were real gold and diamonds? She’d had no idea. It had never even occurred to her that they weren’t anything more than kinky costume jewelry. But how the heck did he know it was her?

Fuck, in her one moment of weakness she’d not only lost her job, but maybe her freedom. She could just imagine their disappointment, the looks of disgust on her parents’ faces when they found out she was going to jail. This would no doubt go on her permanent record and kill any chances of future employment because when she filled out any job applications she’d have to click the “convicted felon” box.

“Amanda?” His voice came from right next to her and she startled, almost falling off the bench.

Dallas gripped her upper arm and steadied her. She stared up at him, tears filling her eyes while he examined her face. Clearing her throat, she debated with trying to lie her way out of it, but instead asked him, “How did you know?”

“My office has a security camera.”

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” He hitched the towel around his hips and she almost unwillingly traced her gaze over the prominent curve of his lower abdominals with the light trail of hair leading to his pelvis. “Video and sound.”

Unable to look at him anymore, she buried her face in her hands. This had to be a nightmare, this couldn’t really be happening to her. Not only did he think she was a thief, but he’d also heard her say his name while she played with herself, in his office, with his toys.

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