Revenge Sex

Other titles from Celeste Anwar:

Carnal Appetite

Carnal Knowledge

Carnal Thirst

Born of Night

The Color of Twilight

Her Every Desire

Resurrection

Pleasures of the Flesh

Beauty Ravished

Indecent Proposition

Project Nemesis: Wolfen Domination

Project Nemesis: Jungle Fever (Coming Soon)

Cajun Heat

Voyeur

Revenge Sex

             
Monica Hudgens hated her boss--hated him with a passion that bordered on obsession.  Every time she saw him walk into his corner office with the view of downtown Atlanta, it made her want to vomit.

             
Anyone with a working set of eyes in their head could see he had the leisure time to spend beautifying himself every day, at every opportunity. 
His slightly long, black hair had seen the sheers of the finest men’s salon.  His clean-shaven face was wrinkle and blemish free, and bordered on model/actor good looks with thick black brows, high cheekbones, and an aquiline straight nose that had never seen any bone-crunching action. 
His blue eyes pierced with their cold clarity.

             
Underneath his sleek
, silk
Armani suits was a body no one in the office had ever seen
firsthand,
but everyone could tell he spent many hours in th
e gym working on his physique, building up his pectorals and biceps to the point that he needed custom-tailored suits to hold him all in. 
He didn’t have the typical office worker body.  Or the salary, if his suits and the Lamborghini parked in the closest parking space to the elevator in the parking garage was any indication.

             
Normally, signs of wealth and vigorous health didn’t piss her off—it was his attitude toward her that had made her dread going in to the office day after day. 
From the moment she’d been hired, she’d sensed an animosity from him.  He’d never made it apparent in front of any of her co-workers, and
when she’d said something to some
of the women she worked with, they’d laughed at her and thought she was crazy.  Everyone that worked under Mr. Jack Knightley adored him for the healthy bonuses he doled out to his loyal workers.  Research on the internet indicated that he’d never had one scandal so much as ruffle one hair on his pretty head.

             
So why did she have the feeling that every time she entered the room, his eyes bore holes through her.  Monica didn’t dare say anything about her suspicions to anyone else.  They were all too loyal to count on not stabbing her in the back
.  I
n this day and age when it was so tough to find a good job, she didn’t want to risk causing an uproar for no reason only to see herself out on the street with a degree and nowhere to use it.

             
And so it was
that she’d begun to hatch a plan to blackmail him out of her life.
  If he was stupid enough to make a move on her, he’d rue the day personnel ever hired her into his office.

             
She’d begun
her campaign
by shortening the skirts she wore in to work.
  The black stockings with the red seam up the back directing the eye to look straight up to her goodies had left nary a man unmoved.  Monica knew her ass looked good.  It was round and juicy, and her boyfriends had always had a thing for smacking and grabbing it.  If she thought anything would work on Mr. Knightley, it was showing off her ample backside.

             
All the short skirts got her, however, were extra duties she thought the office manager was supposed to take care of.  She found herself with the tedious extra task of inventorying the office supply closet nightly.

             
She hadn’t been deterred.

             
When the “show-off-her-ass” tactic didn’t work, she started wearing her clingy, silk blouses cut low ov
er her breasts.  Instead of saving her good bras for a night out on the town, she started wearing
the heavy padded, lacy and see-
through undergarments to work.  Liking the way her dark breasts practically burst out of her shirt
and begged for a good petting
, she was rewarded for showing off with a new advertising account which had cut her outside social life down to nothing.
 
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten out of work and the sun was still shining.

             
The other women in the office had begun to hate her, and she got the sense that they thought she was wearing sexier clothing to work her way up the ranks.

             
Hell, maybe she was, even though she didn’t feel like it. 
Those bitches, she just ignored.  She wasn’t here to make
any
friends.
  She had enough of those on the outside world.  If she ever got to see them again.

             
Monica
should have been gratified that working her assets had garnered her special attention after all, but she wasn’t.  What did it take to get that jerk slapped with a sexual harassment suit
and out of her life
?

             
She’d begun to think that the looks he’d given her and the attitude she’d sensed simmering beneath the surface had just been a figment of her imagination
the entire time
.
  She’d gotten to the point where continuing to fight and try to antagonize him seemed to be not only a waste of time, but a detriment to her career in this office.
  She might actually switch to a new office, if only to get some peace from all the drama she’d managed to conjure up.  And ignore the fact that she’d been stupid to try anything.

             
Monica
drummed her fingers on the desk, spacing out her
laptop, staring over the screen past her neighbor’s desk and through the glass door.  Beyond that glass door, Mr. Knightley was pulling an all-nighter for one of their major accounts that he hadn’t trusted anyone in the office to take care of with the same care that he could.  Control freak.
  Then again, it was that attitude which had probably propelled him to the top.

             
She sighed.  She
saved her work, and
was about to log off her account when the door opened
. 
Mr. Knightley opened his door and stepped out,
wearing a dark grey Armani.  He stretched
as if he’d been sitting in the same position for hours.  He stopped when he saw her watching him.
  His hard gaze raked over her.  She practically felt him pausing on her tits.

             
“Burning the midnight hour?” he asked, walking towards her.  He stopped at the desk across from her
s and leaned his hip against it, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

             
She hated that she even noticed how broad his chest was.  Briefly, she wondered if this was the opportunity she’d been looking for.  “About to log off, as a matter of fact,”
she said, thinking hard about turning the camera option on on her laptop
to capture the evidence should any arise
.

             
She tightened her arms together, enhancing her cleavage.  He noticed, if the raised eyebrow was any indication.  Monica smiled, feeling that things were finally slipping into place
after her unending patience
.  She clicked her mouse and turned the camera on, then stood from her office chair
.

             
She allowed a smile to part her full lips.  She licked the bottom one briefly, giving him her flirtiest look. 
“Why are you really here?  I noticed you and I are the only ones in the office tonight.  That’s never happened before.”

             
One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile, half smirk.  “I’m not so stupid as to leave myself vulnerable to a sexual harassment lawsuit, however tempting the person might be.  I have a lot to lose.”

             
If he’d slapped her, he couldn’t have shocked her more. 
She straightened, undeterred.
“You still didn’t answer my question.”

             
His voice dropped low. 
“I think you know why I’m in here.  You’ve been wearing those short skirts and tight shirts for a month now.  I thought you’d catch the hint to quit with the extra work, but you’re a hard-headed little thing, aren’t you.”

             
Monica moved around her desk.  “Mama didn’t raise me to give up so easily.”

             
She noticed a nearly imperceptible tightening of his biceps across his chest, as if he was holding himself back from her.  She had him right where she wanted him and they both knew it.  “You got a girlfriend?”

             
“Not anymore.  We broke up about a month ago, when you started sashaying that fine black ass of yours through my office.  How about you come over here and bend over this desk and let me spank it.”

             
The moment the words came out of his mouth and hit her ears, she felt her belly quiver with butterflies of anticipation.  As much as she hated to admit it, as much as she disliked him, deep down inside, she’d wanted to have a piece of him since the moment she’d laid eyes on him.  She walked closer, licking her full lips, then obediently bent-over her co-worker’s desk.

             
Jack straightened from his comfortable lean and grabbed her skirt with aggression, hiking it up over her juicy ass to her waist.  She gasped and flinched when his hand came across her backside with a resounding smack.  “That’s for letting the other men in the office look at your legs.”  He smacked the other cheek.  “That’s for
wearing those black stockings with the red stripe up the back.”
  He spanked her again.  “And that’s for showing off your tits and not letting me suck them.”

             
“Oh,” she cri
ed, her ass tingling with the imprint of his hand.

             
She bit her lip when h
e fingered her thong, then smoothed a hand
over the spots he’d spanked.  She felt him dip down to a crouch, and her knees went weak when she felt his mouth against her ass, licking and kissing her bare skin.  She moaned when he ripped her thong down her ass and off her legs, then forced her to spread her legs wide for him.