Restraining the Receptionist: ... the Receptionist, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

with the DVD case, slapping it gently against one palm as he paced.
    Any chance Ethan would forget by the time Simon returned? Nope, the man had a mind like a mousetrap. I shook my head.
    “No? I tend to agree. We can’t spend all our time on employee discipline. Here’s a thought. We could conference Simon in, via video perhaps. It’s a bit of a cheat, but he would be participating.”
    “Present,” I squeaked. “Simon is supposed to be present. That means in the room. With us, not in some other room.”
    “Was that the phrasing? Oh dear. Well, I consider it a challenge then. It’ll spur my creativity.” His eyes gleamed glacier blue. “I’ll come up with a proper punishment by tomorrow, never fear.” He tossed the DVD case on my desk. “Unless I make it utterly simple and replace this DVD with something more interesting.”
    “No!” I scrambled to my feet. “Not that. Something else. I won’t fight it, I promise.”
    “Fight it? I certainly hope you would know better than that.”
    “I do. I do.” Puppet-like, I nodded.
    As I had learned early on, waiting for punishment was so much worse than experiencing the punishment. My imagination would go wild with all the possibilities. I’d find it hard to concentrate on simple tasks like taking messages or brushing my teeth. And that increased the chance of more errors. And that got me more freaked. Except it wasn’t fear I felt. If it was just fear, it wouldn’t involve wild nighttime sex fantasies and drenched panties. Would it?
    By the time Punishment Day dawned, I was kind of a wreck. I hadn’t gotten much sleep in between the crazed sex dreams. Taking my post at the receptionist’s desk, I reviewed my strategy. Shut up and take it, as long as Ethan stayed within the rules. In no time, the red light on my phone blinked.
    “Come in to my office,” Ethan’s gravelly voice ordered. “Leave all your clothes on, please.”
    Fully clothed for a punishment? That was new. Then again, it would have been against the rules to make me strip. Or would it? Come to think of it, we’d never spelled out the rules.
    I tiptoed to the door of Ethan’s office. This was new too. I’d never been invited into Ethan’s domain. For all I knew, Blackbeard the Pirate lived in there. Or maybe Hitler’s body was stashed in the cabinets. I wouldn’t put anything past Mr. Ethan Cowell.
    But it wasn’t anyone fictional or historical who greeted me as I opened the door. In fact, it took a moment to recognize her. Streaked blonde hair, splattered freckles, slim body set off with boobs the size of coconuts. Chantalette the Temp. I’d spent a torturous morning training her to fill in for me when I had a dentist appointment. And believe me when I say the dentist chair was a relief after that. She was useless. Even tied up, she looked lazy.
    She hung limply from the coat hook on the wall, right next to Ethan’s trench coat. As if she’d flashed herself right out of the coat. Her fingers curled onto each other. Her pale skin glowed with a sheen of sweat reflected in the fluorescent lights. When she saw me, her first reaction of surprise was followed by a smug wink. As if to say, “guess all that training paid off.”
    “What is she doing here?” I hissed at Ethan.
    “I invited her. I spotted her potential right away. She did quite well taking your place. Of course, I had to do some re-training of my own. I was quite excited when I saw these.”
    He tugged at the twin gold rings piercing her nipples. She moaned.
    “You’ve got to be kidding. She was the worst temp ever.”
    Chantalette shot me an evil glare. I ignored it.
    “She has no experience. No skills. Unless you want your nails done. That’s her only previous job. And I’d only trust her with toenails. Fingers are too hard.”
    “Shut up, Dana. I’ve got plenty of experience where it counts.” She sent Ethan a come-hither look. “Skills too.” She ran her tongue over her lips.
    “You aren’t buying this,