Chapter Sixteen
Several weeks after her vacation in his penthouse, Maureen accosted Jon in his office, “I hate you, hate you, hate you, you f*****g bastard,” she screamed. She didn’t care who heard her yelling.
“Strong words, Maureen,” he said civilly. “And you’d better calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down.”
“But you’ll do it anyway, or I’ll spank you right here with the door wide open, and let anyone who wants to look see your bare ass getting red.”
She tried to calm. Public humiliation was not in her repertoire of desires as hot as the thought of it was in fantasy.
The door had been ajar and Jon prudently closed it while motioning her to a chair.
“Tell me, what’s eating you now? Not another missal from Sophie. I don’t think there’s been one in two weeks.”
“Why do you mock my a
