Scarlet Moons

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

Grant Nichols stared grimly at the e-mail message Keith Myers pilfered from a female employee’s desk.

“Who did you say sent this?”

“I believe it was Felicity.”

“Felicity?”

“Miss Moon, the web designer.”

“The one with the wild black hair and the ….” He paused.

“Yes, that’s the one. Wore that really short skirt to the design meeting couple of weeks ago. You told me to have her wear something more appropriate next time.”

“Ah, yes, I remember.”

“Now I think she’s mocking you,” Keith said, nodding at the e-mail.

“How so?”

“References to prehistoric times, redneck sensitivity, macho posturing, gun-slinging…the women in the secretarial pool loved it, but the sarcasm and innuendo were rather pointed.”

“Yeah, I get the Texas backwoods references,” Grant droned. “I’m not that stupid.”

“And now she’s wearing long skirts instead of those micro-minis.”

“Is she?” He almost looked disappointed. There wasn’t a male employee in the building who hadn’t noticed the legs of a dancer beneath Felicity’s short skirts. Even if they were inappropriate in a business setting, she still looked hot. “And that’s a problem?”

“When you can see right through them it is.”

Grant’s eyes widened.

“And she wears no panties,” Keith said.

“See-through skirts? No panties? That obvious, huh?”

“In the right light, yes.” he nodded. “Her skirts almost hit her ankles so she looks like a gypsy with that hair and the bracelets and earrings, and the tube tops under her see-through blouses. Her n*****s, are well … damn their huge, and she’s got quite an ass … terrific jiggle….” He stopped talking as if he was getting hot and bothered with just the thought of her.

“So, I suppose she doesn’t wear a bra either?”

“Not that I’ve ever noticed.”

Grant nodded slowly. “I see.”

“I think she’s mocking you, Grant. Every little bit of flesh is covered, but everything still shows.”

“Mocking me, huh? Right in front of my entire female staff.”

“She’s a first class brat if you ask me, cocky, arrogant, damned charming though. You saw what she did in that meeting. She could have been naked and everyone would have walked out in love with her.”

“She turn you on?” Grant asked.

“Hell, who wouldn’t be turned-on? And she knows she’s got us over a barrel. Not only does she dress like a slut, that woman turns my mind in knots the moment she opens her mouth about the Internet. She knows her way around our computer system so I think she’s living inside it. And she’s only been here two months.”

“So, she’s for real, not just talking a good line?”

“Well, so far, Miss Moon has solved every computer glitch we’ve had without a sweat. Totally reconfigured our accounting system so it actually makes sense. And the web page she built is right up there with the very best.”

“Perhaps we put up with a little eccentricity,” Grant suggested.

“And memos?” Keith looked back at the e-mail.

Grant nodded. “Maybe I should talk with her personally.”

“Maybe you should,” Keith agreed.

***

Grant sat back in his leather armchair one ankle resting against his knee, dust still clinging to his cowboy boots. His jeans were sharp with a clean press, and his long-sleeved dress shirt looked freshly starched. He must have had some important meeting to dress so formally. Still, his sand-colored hair was in its customary disarray taking the palm of his hand to put it back in place. His nearly forty-year old face had some deep lines, but none that diminished his inherent wholesome handsomeness. With a broad engaging smile, soft blue eyes and clean-cut image he looked like a corporate mogul, able to charm and woo and make the tough decisions no one else wanted to make. He was a conservative maverick, the kind that Texas breeds happily decade after decade. He had a mind of his own, chiseled from the open air and great expanses of horizons, and work that’s physically taxing, but what builds character in men. He was set in his ways, his own ways, with old-fashioned values about women and relationships—though he had little problem with women in the workplace. He admired what they added to the flavor of the corporation in humanity, even if they were occasionally hard to deal with.

Grant Nichols was just plain smart in a business where being smart was a great virtue. He had enough space in him to accept other people’s idiosyncrasies. He knew if he didn’t, he might shoot himself in the foot with a shortsighted view of the world. Felicity Moon wasn’t that different from himself, just a female kind of maverick that needed to be steered in the right direction.

“Miss Moon, sit down, please,” Grant said motioning to the young woman who entered his office. He watched her approach, direct and forceful. With a handful of papers in her hand, she obviously thought she was here on a business matter. He was amused by her appearance, clear mockery just as Keith suggested. Though her skirt wasn’t see-through as others she’d recently worn, this knit one fit her body like second skin, revealing every smooth line—so tight that from behind he could make out the crack of her slightly jiggling ass. Her white blouse above had deep cut armholes, was tied at her waist, and was unbuttoned to mid-breast. Though he could see nothing shocking, it was damned sexy. Because she didn’t wear a bra, those infamous n*****s shot through the fabric drawing any voyeur’s eye to their alarming sight, including Grant’s.

“Mr. Nichols,” Felicity nodded.

“You’re not here about the design work. I’m satisfied with your progress,” he began.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“You are here about a personal matter,” he said getting directly to the point.

She looked at him warily. “And what would that be?”

“Keith spoke to you about your clothes.”

“And that’s still an issue?”

“As are memos to female employees that are direct shots at me.” His voice naturally lowered, turning what appeared at first to be a pleasantly casual conference into an explicit reprimand. “I don’t try to squelch creativity, least of all yours, but I expect you to fit into the professional climate in this office, and to do so without your hackles raised.”

Immediately taken aback, Felicity bristled, sat up a little straighter than she’d been, and narrowed her dark brown eyes at him.

“I’m on contract, not salary. I work on my own. And if I choose to go nude in your office, I will,” she retorted. “You really have no recourse.”

“Is that what you think?” Grant was almost amused by the idea and the balls she had to go with it. “Then perhaps I’ll have to cancel your contract.”

“That you could,” she relinquished. “But I don’t think you want to. I know way too much about your operation to leave it now.”

“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”

“Threat, no,” she backed off slightly, but she was clearly irritated. “Though if I leave, I take what’s in my brain with me, leaving you and your dim-witted nerds to make sense of it.”

“If it’s that complex, maybe you should simplify things so there won’t be the great mystery.”

“We live in a complex computer world, you can only simplify things so much. And you have a complex business.”

Grant Nichols tightened feeling a fierce thrust of energy from the woman before him that was a direct challenge.

“Miss Moon, this could be your last day, if you like. You want this job, then you put a hold on your attitude and dress in accord with basic business style. You may be good, but you’re not the only computer genius on the planet.”

She looked at him intrigued, and surprisingly less angry. The man impressed her beyond her original expectations. “You know we don’t have to go to extremes, Mr. Nichols,” she said. “Perhaps I spoke too quickly.” Though she remained proud, the concession was obvious.

“Perhaps so. What I really think, Felicity Moon, is that you’re an incorrigible brat, and if the s****l harassment police wouldn’t string me up, I’d take you over my lap and spank your ass right now.”

“You’d what!”

“Spank your ass, you heard me.”

“How can you even suggest such a thing?” Proud turned to prim in a second.

“Don’t get priggish with me, that’s hardly who you are.”

“Then go ahead and spank me if you like. I’ll raise my skirt right here. You get your ruler!” she retorted angrily.

“Oh, you are a brassy broad. But if you think I’m gonna dance to your tune you’re far more naïve than I expected.”

“You’re calling me a broad?”

He chuckled, something to undo her right on the spot. “You want it both ways, don’t you? That makes you a trampy prick tease speaking feminist jargon.”

She flared angrily.

“Know when you’re beat, Miss Moon, or perhaps I’ll start calling you Felicity?”

“That doesn’t demean me in the slightest, Grant,” she retorted.

“You’re quite a work of art,” he said, very much amused. “I think I want you around for the laughs.”

“Then I’ll be going, taking my project with me.” She rose from the chair and began her retreat.

“Felicity,” he called, his voice turning kind. “We can work together, I think we both know that. You just give me the prudence I need, and I’ll give you the latitude you want.”

She turned around slowly. Felicity was much too intrigued by Grant Nichols to quit her job on the spot—which was what the humiliating ordeal demanded. But since he was giving her a look of sincere respect, it was enough to keep her from a rash move. Of course, Grant manipulated the entire incident from the causally friendly opening, to utter humiliation, to this truce of an ending, and that amazed her even more. He was more a man than she’d had the pleasure of enjoying in a long time.

“All right,” she said, sounding flip though not without a degree of mutual respect he’d want. About to leave again, she turned back one last time. “About your spanking threat …. perhaps it would be wise to note that my ass is not off-limits if that’s what would keep the peace between us. I’m usually incorrigible regardless of my desires otherwise. ‘Perpetual brat’, one man told me a while back.”

“And did he spank you?”

“Yes, he did.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Grant said.

***

When the alarm rang in her ear, Felicity turned over in bed and squashed the offending machine with the palm of her hand. The nasty noise stopped abruptly and she went back to sleep. The next thing she heard was the sound of KC’s voice drawing her from a wicked dream that included Grant Nichols, Jake and a race though the woods toward an unknown destination. She was almost glad to awaken, except for the obvious s****l overtones of the dream in which everyone was naked.

“What time is it?” Felicity drawled.

“Eleven,” KC replied. She was munching on a pop tart, crumbs littering Felicity’s floor.

“What!” Felicity jumped out of bed and dashed to the bath.

“I thought maybe you didn’t have to work,” KC remarked lazily.

“I have a meeting in a half hour.”

“Oh, then you’re going to be late,” KC observed the obvious, still dropping pieces of frosting as she moved toward the door.

“Yeah, well get out of my way. I’ve got to run, and damn it, will you use a napkin next time!”

***

Felicity jogged to the fourth floor conference room, out of breath. Regaining her calm, she walked in bearing a half smile and slipped into her seat almost unnoticed. She was only fifteen minutes late and by the looks of the meeting’s progress she was hardly missed. Everyone was in the midst of arguing budgetary matters than were of no concern to her.

At her arrival, only Grant looked up taking note of her tardy but subtle entrance. He noted her attire and rose from his chair.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Moon and I need to confer before we begin her portion of the meeting.”

Without giving her clue about his concerns, Grant gave her a nod and she slipped out of the room on his heels as casually as she’d just entered. Following him down the hall, he suddenly ducked into an empty office, pulled her inside and closed the door behind her.

“So much for truces and compromises,” he said abruptly. He didn’t look happy.

“I’m sorry I’m late. It was a bad night last night.” She remembered the fight with Jake, another brisk and painful spanking, and the unexpected s****l fireworks that were set off between them. With KC gone during the brief confrontation, Felicity ran out of the apartment and drank until two a.m. trying to forget how much she was suddenly intrigued by her former boyfriend. Never in a million years would she risk hurting her relationship with KC. The unplanned kiss from Jake was a damned good reason to get drunk.

“I didn’t expect much improvement, Felicity,” Grant said. “But I think we’re going backwards here.” He stared at her clothes, which suddenly made the scene make a whole lot more sense. She looked down at the tight skirt—she swore it was longer than her usual short skirts. The lace top was covered by a jacket, but there was a plunging neckline that showed off her cleavage. Still, it was about the most conservative thing she owned.

“You’re going after me because the clothes!” she looked at him amazed.

“It’s part of the truce, as are a lot of other things,” he said. “So let me see your ass.”

“You’re really serious?”

“Damn right I am,” he replied.

“And it wouldn’t matter to you that I just got the living hell spanked out of me last night?”

“Ah, your ass is still sore?” he wondered.

“Yeah, it’s still sore,” she tried for some sympathy.

“Good,” he retorted. Not waiting for her to obey him, he took her by the arm, sat down in a desk chair and drew her over his lap.

“Oh, no, you f*****g bastard!” she cried out with the reality setting in. Abruptly reminded that there were secretaries working just twenty feet beyond the door, she squelched her next comments, though Grant heard her whispering voice loud and clear ….“You’re a fuckin’ ass you do this here.” She tried wiggling from his grasp but got nowhere. Grant Nichols was as tough and strong as his Texas background.

“Oh, I have every intention of spanking you, lil darling. Talk about incorrigible. You’re late, you’re dressed like a woman of loose morals, your mouth is foul and you can’t seem to keep from sending suggestive e-mail … should I go on?”

“Like hell!” she shot back nastily, unsuccessfully trying to wrench away.

He had his belt from his pants, doubled in his hand, the broad leather poised and ready to strike her wiggling derriere.

“Oh, I don’t think you have much to say on this,” he retorted. “After all, you gave me your consent. Let’s just see how serious you were about that.”

Letting the belt make its first strike, the snap of the leather against her bottom shot like an arrow through her entire system. Followed by a dozen quick snaps to her sore skin, it was all she could do to keep from shrieking. If Jake hadn’t been so pissed at her the night before, and done practically the same thing Grant was doing now, she might have been able to take the fiery blast. But with just enough leftover ache to prime the pump, in mere seconds, her ass felt like a blow torch had been applied to the sensitive skin. Unfortunately, Grant didn’t give a lick about the state of her behind, the foul belt just kept coming down in a vile rain. If there were some way she could justify it, maybe it would be better. But just as with Jake’s impetuous move to spank her, this had so little behind it she felt wronged, betrayed and even violated. For all the times she’d been a true brat, for all the defiance she heaped on men in authority, to have caused something as terrible as this – and so easily – she was as pissed as she was distraught.

Fighting mad, Felicity spit whispered commands to stop, nasty hisses decrying her fate, and hushed but biting retorts. All to the bitter end of it, she squirmed and fought like a madwoman. Nothing worked, nothing made it easier. She was convinced that by the time he finally set her on her feet, her ass throbbing ass, that he was the most evil man alive.

“What the hell!” she blurted out immediately.

“You think you didn’t deserve this one?” he asked, looking almost amused.

That made her anger rise higher still.

“If there weren’t people just outside this door, I’d give you a right cross that would send you to the hospital.”

“I hardly think that would happen. Besides, this was as much your idea as it was mine. And the reasons are just.”

“They are not! I was hardly late, this outfit is the most subdued thing I’ve got… well almost, and if you haven’t heard mouths more foul than mine, then you’re a bloody liar.”

“And the e-mail?” he asked.

“What e-mail?”

“A two page piece of pornography appeared in the e-mail of nearly every high-level executive in the company. Not that it wasn’t hotter than s**t, and not that most of the men weren’t rubbing their crotches by the time they finished, I know there were several—including my very conservative partner, Tom Jordan who didn’t appreciate the piece. When he’s talking about tar and feathers, I’m merely spanking you. Seems to me you got a good deal.”

“My god, what did I do?” She paled, raising her hand to her lips in horror. “That e-mail was for Marion Dobbs.”

“Was it meant to be personal?” Grant raised his eyebrows.

“You shouldn’t ask.”

“Well, Miss Computer Genius, perhaps this proves that you’re not perfect.”

“But, you can be certain I’ll find the error,” Felicity said, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to be angry with Grant Nichols.

“I hope you will, and perhaps be advised not to e-mail such compromising things on company time.”

“This was not company time,” she answered. “And as for the other accusations you made ….”

“I was merely proving my point, Felicity. You are an admitted incorrigible brat, though it seems this time you were punished for something that could have been easily an honest error.”

She glowered at him.

“I’m glad we got the first one over with,” Grant continued. “I have a feeling you’re quite right about yourself. You’re gonna need this often if you plan to stay working here.”

Felicity didn’t know what to say. The day had been so alarming that words were failing her, something quite rare for the rambunctious woman. She was rarely embarrassed but had good reason to be now.

“Well, I think it’s time we got back to the meeting,” he said. “I hope you can do your presentation as planned.”

“I’m sure I can,” she replied. “But I do have one question.”

“And that is?”

“Did you tell Mr. Jordon what you were going to do … spank me?”

“To save your job, yes,” he replied.

“And do I have good reason to feel embarrassed walking into this meeting?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t really know,” he said. “I suppose it depends on how thick a skin you have.”

The meeting went better than Felicity planned, so well, she wondered if Grant wasn’t bluffing that Jordon knew about her spanking. He seemed to be one of her most enthusiastic supporters concerning the changes she designed for the inventory system. Who’s to tell? It was a good thing that she had a decent sense of humor. The e-mail she received for the next few weeks was everything from nastily judgmental—that quantity was slight—to wildly risqué—to downright indecent, even by her own standards. At one point, after a particularly racy memo, Grant stopped her in the hall and asked how she was getting along.

“Amazed,” she replied. “I never really knew what lurks in the hearts and c***s of men. Women I understand, but ….” Felicity looked quite bewildered.

“Is there a problem?” he asked looking concerned.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said quietly. With a smile on her face, he probed no more.