The Bossman Read online

  “May I still work?”

  He shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy. I might have to take over the business management, though to make sure you turn us a tidier profit.” He gave a wink.

  She giggled. “You’ll be my handler? Are you going to call my clients and tell them you’re raising the price?”

  He grinned. “I might.”

  “You won’t be jealous of me massaging other guys?”

  “A little. You’ll just have to make sure I’m the only one who gets the happy endings.”

  #

  Eight months later

  “I know what you think, Nancy. You think I’m not good enough for your daughter.” He’d finally cornered Sophie’s mother, who had timed her flight in for their wedding so she would arrive right before the wedding rehearsal. “You’re right--I’m not. But I can promise you I will take very good care of her.”

  Nancy looked away, scanning the family members milling around the private room at Epic’s with wine glasses and hors d'oeuvres before the rehearsal dinner, probably looking for a rescue from her husband. Her eyes were the same cash green as Sophie’s but with the lighter skin and hair, they were not as striking. Still, her beauty had held over the years, which gave him a smugness knowing his wife would be just as hot at 60 as she was at 30.

  “I’m out of the organization. Did she tell you that?”

  Nancy dragged her eyes back to his face. “I’m sure she believes that.”

  “It’s the truth. Listen...I’m sorry Artie broke your heart--”

  Sophie’s mother recoiled as if he slapped her.

  “--but it’s not going to be that way for Sophie. I have legitimate investments we can live on and I’m not running anything but legal business dealings. I love your daughter, Nancy. I love her. And I’m going to work every day to make her happy.”

  Nancy stared at him. Her expression was no longer closed as it had been when he’d begun, but she still frowned.

  From across the room, Sophie spotted them and made a beeline over, a worried crease between her brows. He drew her against him when she arrived, trying to absorb the anxiety that had built around her mom’s arrival. He’d already spanked her twice that day to calm her nerves and though he’d had to wrestle her a bit the second time, the results had been remarkable. He’d come to love everything about spanking Sophie. From ordering her around, to the actual infliction of pain on her squirming, reddening ass, to the mad desire it produced in her. Today it had given bloom to an open softness. He loved the way she looked at him afterward, her eyes full of adoration, her defenses gone, her heart wide.

  “I was just vowing to your mom I will keep you happy.”

  Sophie’s hand slipped to her abdomen, still visibly flat, but full of the promise of a twelve week old fetus--a secret shared by only the two of them.

  Her mother did not miss the gesture. “Are you pregnant?” she gasped. “Is that why--?”

  “No, mother,” Sophie hissed, her body stiffening against his. “I’m marrying Joey because I love him and we’re starting a family because we want one.”

  “She wouldn’t have me at first, you know.” he said. “She didn’t want to suffer the way you did.”

  Nancy’s mouth opened and closed without speaking.

  “I had to make quite a few changes to convince her I was worthy.”

  “Joey--” Sophie protested.

  “I don’t want you to think she entered this lightly, or hasn’t thought it through. She’ll be holding me to a standard and I intend to meet it.”

  The fight left Nancy’s body and she blinked rapidly. “Are you pregnant?” she asked in an awed voice. It was the voice of a grandmother-to-be, not the voice of a shocked mother.

  Sophie nodded, the glow of joyful expectation that always appeared when she talked about the baby shining on her face. Her mother pulled her into an embrace. “Oh God, Sophie, I’m so happy. How far along?”

  “Shh, Ma. Only twelve weeks. We’re not telling anyone until we’re through the first trimester.”

  “Wait, what is this?” Pauly appeared behind the women. He was dressed in a fancy suit, his shoes shined and his hair slicked back. Sophie had asked him to give her away at the wedding, and she’d never seen Pauly look so proud.

  Sophie beamed. “It’s true, God willing,” she said, crossing herself. “You’re going to be a great-uncle.”

  “Hey, hey, that’s great!” Pauly exclaimed, sweeping her into a bear hug, then pumping Joey’s hand with several congratulatory slaps on the back. “Great-uncle, eh?”

  “How about Godfather?” Sophie asked, her eyes darting to him. “I mean, I haven’t discussed it with Joey, but…”

  “It’s fine by me,” he said. Al might be offended, but this bonding between Sophie and Pauly seemed important. She lacked a father figure, and Pauly needed a purpose in life, considering he’d never married. Their baby might give him just that.

  “I’m going to spoil that kid rotten,” Pauly declared proudly..

  Nancy threw her arms around Pauly, the love of the moment overcoming her previous stiffness. “I’m glad you’re going to be there for my grandbaby,” she sniffed. “Just like you were always there for us.”

  Joey opened his arms. “What about me? You going to accept me as your son-in-law?”

  Nancy smiled in amused concession, the expression so similar to the looks he had wrung from Sophie it was uncanny. She stepped into his embrace and offered her cheek for his kiss. “You’d better not hurt her.”

  “Oh, I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Pauly said.

  He grinned, finding the assertion endearing rather than offensive. “If they only knew,” he murmured in Sophie’s ear, giving her bottom a little pat.

  She blushed and turned into him, pressing her cheek against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I love you, La Torre. Do you know that?”

  He kissed the top of her head, her hair silky against his lips. “Keep reminding me.”

  She smiled up at him. “I will. Every day. Till death do us part.”

  About the Author

  Renee Rose is a modern dance teacher, Feldenkrais Practitioner(R), energy worker and kinkster. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, her books are all centered around her favorite kink: spanking.

  A lifelong writer, she has a B.A. in creative writing from Knox College, where she won the Davenport prize for both fiction and poetry, and the Lorraine Smith prize for literary criticism. She spent thirteen years in technical writing before she found a way to incorporate her deepest darkest spanking fantasies into fiction and express a part of her that longed to see the light. She is now passionate about supporting others in accepting and exploring their kink, whatever that may be. Leave a comment and join the conversation!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author