Miles's Revenge

 

The phone rang six times before Joanna answered. She could hardly find the thing in the midst of her paper strewn desk.

A feeling of impending doom had descended on her, someone's head would roll, and it might be hers, if she didn't straighten out the mess.

"Hello," she said absently as she picked up the phone.

"Where were you?" a man's voice demanded. His chilling voice leapt out through the receiver.

"Miles, I have work," Joanna answered irritated.

"Knock off the edge, Joanna," he warned.

She took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," she replied, aware of his stern mood. He hadn't been that way earlier that morning, they'd made love, shared a salsa filled omelet and steamy coffee before they left for work. She wondered why he was suddenly so different.

"I'll be picking you up in a half hour," he informed her.

"And what are we going to do?" she asked, suddenly quite curious.

"I don't think that's you're concern," he replied.

"Oh."

"Half hour," he repeated and the phone clicked.

She took a deep breath. Yes, a little interlude would be delightful, but damn, she thought. The signs of overwork surrounded her, it was hardly what she needed at the moment, or was it . . . .

Either way she had no choice.

He was ultimately her boss, though there were a half dozen mid management types between her executive assistant job, and Miles. Explaining her sudden need to disappear to her immediate superiors was never easy. Though there was really no need for an explanation, since everyone knew she belonged to the company president, as least figuratively. Miles Jamison possessed his women, and for the last several years he'd possessed her, in a deliciously wicked way.

"I have to go," Joanna explained to Donovan ten minutes later, standing in front of her harried boss.

"Miles?" He knew in an instant her excuse.

"Yes."

"He's damned inconvenient, you know. We've got an emergency here and I'm not certain that we'll find an easy explanation to this problem. I need you here to help me out." The handsome young executive was the type of man Joanna had once imagined herself falling in love with. How strange that she would do a quick 180 degree turn when Miles came into her life

"I know it's bad timing, but you want me to tell Miles that?" she replied with a smug grin. She wielded a unique power at work, even though she didn't like to use it, especially now. She felt a little guilty leaving Donovan at the moment, and she considered herself too much her own woman to let her relationship with Miles look like favoritism.

"This time you have a good reason to turn him down," Donovan said. "But then again, I can't afford to let him get wind of this Pandora's box, not yet. It could be devastating for the department."

He was looking worried. As worried as she should be. Too bad, such a handsome face, and so strung out. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she assured him, and she turned to walk away.

"So what do you two do on your extemporaneous meetings, screw in the limo?" Donovan asked, as she reached the door.

She turned back around and flashed him a sly smile. Yeah, they'd screwed in the limo a few times, but that was only half of what took place when Miles called her away. If only Donovan knew . . . "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased. She wiggled her hourglass figure for him just a bit, her blond hair swaying in the air. She had a sweet face, a flawless pale complexion with just a blush of pink on her cheeks and lips. Her dark eyes peered out from her perpetually droopy lids. She always looked as if she were in the middle of a seduction.

"Well, be quick. Tell the old man I need you this afternoon," he said. He looked as harried as she felt.

"Sure," she replied. "But listen if it makes you feel any better, I wish I didn't have to go this time. And I'm not going to run out on you, we'll get to the bottom of our problem before I leave today."

"Yeah Jo, that makes me feel much better," he replied sarcastically. While she was out screwing the president, he was trying to put out a fire he hoped was not already out of control.

 

Donovan watched her swish her sweet ass through the door. He'd have loved to have his cock between her thighs, and was well on his way to making it happen, when the prospects of that ended abruptly as Miles Jamison took her for his own. At his beck and call no less, what could be finer than a woman like Joanna accessible on demand. She was every man's dream. She had a sumptuous 38C bosom by his estimation, and one of the most pleasantly rounded rear ends he'd had the occasion to work around. It only helped that every dress she wore, cashmere, silk or lycra, always clung to those exquisite curves. He always wanted to know if that cascade of blonde curls was natural; but it wasn't likely he'd get the opportunity to find out anytime soon, if ever. She was taken, and everyone knew it.