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  eXcessica publishing

  Power Play: Kelsey and the Executive © April 2012 by Selena Kitt

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

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  Cover design © 2012 Willsin Rowe

  First Edition April 2012

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Table of Contents

  Kelsey and the Executive

  About Selena Kitt

  Bonus Excerpt!

  More Books from Selena Kitt

  More from Excessica

  Selena Kitt’s *Power Play*—where those uber-hot alpha authority figures take full advantage of their status to strike up all sorts of sexy naughtiness with their subordinates!

  Kelsey never dreamed her first job out of college with her bachelor’s degree in hand would be as a secretary. Still, she’s grateful to have any job at all, with the economy at a standstill, and she consoles herself that she is, after all, an “executive” secretary to one of the most powerful men in the country. Oliver Pierce turns out to be a harsh taskmaster, and while her friends wonder how Kelsey got the job at all, with such a thin resume, Kelsey doesn’t have to wonder. It becomes quite clear very quickly that her lack of experience is exactly what Oliver Pierce was looking for, and she finds herself utterly seduced, happy to be his perfect blank slate, ready to be shaped and molded and made completely his.

  Selena Kitt Single

  Short Story—Big Bang!

  (approx 10,000 words)

  Warning: This title contains hot, steamy nobody-writes-it-like-Selena-Kitt sex between alpha authority figures and their subordinates!

  POWER PLAY:

  Kelsey and the Executive

  By Selena Kitt

  Selena Kitt Singles

  Short Story—Big Bang!

  It all started because the washing machine broke.

  Kelsey had exactly five skirts that were appropriate for work, with mix and match blouses and jackets, every one of them wash-and-wear. She refused to buy anything that said Dry Clean Only on the tag. Of course, the washing machine broke on a Sunday night, after she’d procrastinated doing laundry all weekend, leaving her desperately searching her closets for something, anything!

  That’s how she ended up in a black mini-skirt, black and white striped tights, and a camouflage t-shirt, feeling like a cross between Beetlejuice and Beetle Bailey.

  “Kelsey, coffee.” Oliver breezed by her, swinging his briefcase and looking at his watch.

  She hid behind her computer screen, mumbling something to the affirmative, and waited for him to go into his office before heading towards the kitchen. Putting the coffee on was the very first thing she did every day, and it was already full and warm and just the right amount of strong for her critical employer. She had to measure carefully, or she’d hear about it.

  Making a face—she had never been a coffee-drinker and even hated the smell—she poured him a cup. He took it black.

  “Here you go.” She put the mug on a coaster on his desk. He didn’t glance up from his computer screen and she was glad. She turned to go.

  “Kelsey, can you get me the—” Oliver’s voice stopped dead and so did Kelsey, wincing already, her hand on the doorknob, so close to escape. She waited, her face scrunched up as if she were waiting to be pummeled, but was greeted with the longest silence she had ever endured.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it, and turned her head to look. He was staring at her legs in the black and white striped stockings, transfixed, the papers in his hand forgotten and floating to the floor.

  “Yes?” she prompted, clearing her throat and shifting back and forth in her heels. At least those were work-approved—black pumps.

  “The Lockheed file…” he went on, his voice sounding far away. “The whole account file. The red one… you know…”

  “Yes,” she agreed, inching her way out. “Is that all?”

  He nodded, his gaze following her stockings around the edge of the door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was on the other side, amazed that he hadn’t admonished her, or even sent her home. She wouldn’t have put it past him. Although that expression on his face… she’d never seen Oliver look like that before.

  The Lockheed file was in the main office, and she went past the reception area, where her own desk was, and peeked around the corner to see which employees had arrived to work this early. Just a few of the telemarketing girls, she noted with relief, and she made her way to the wall of filing cabinets, kneeling down to open it—the L’s were at the bottom of the third in a row of six.

  “Nice stripes,” said a voice right behind her and she jumped, nearly spilling the entire Lockheed file onto the floor. “Should we call you zebra-girl?”

  Kelsey winced, looking up, up, up, into the face of the carefully made-up and perfectly coiffed brunette. “Excuse me, I have to get this to my boss.”

  “Are you the receptionist?” the woman inquired, blinking at Kelsey’s short skirt and festive stockings. “There was no one out there and Oliver’s door was closed.”

  “Oh… I…” Kelsey moved around the woman’s tall frame, edging along the filing cabinets. “Yes. You are?”

  “Helena Lockheed!” A male voice called out and Kelsey glanced over her shoulder at Matt from sales coming toward them. He was always smiling like a salesman—but she still liked to pretend he was smiling just at her. “You look great! Have you lost weight?”

  Of could he was talking to the brunette, who smiled and simpered and let him shake her hand and Kelsey realized with dawning horror that this woman was the head of the company her boss was so concerned about today. And as far as Kelsey knew, she didn’t have an appointment.

  Crap.

  It wasn’t easy being young and inexperienced and new. Most of the time she had no idea what she was doing, even after two months at the company. She just followed Oliver Pierce’s orders like he was God. And hell, face it, around the office, he kind of was.

  “I like your stripes, doll.” Matt winked at Kelsey as he passed, his pleasantries with Helena Lockheed at an end.

  “Thanks.” She tried to think of a way to keep the conversation going, even with Mrs. Lockheed watching—he was the office hunk, the biggest flirt in the company, and it was hard to resist when he turned his attention, however briefly, to her—but Matt hurried by. “Your tie… nice stripes too!”

  He grinned back over his shoulder. “At least they’re not prison stripes, eh?”

  Wishing she had a snappy
comeback, she watched him sail around the corner and then turned to face her next problem of the day.

  “Follow me.” Kelsey turned the corner, the woman’s heels clicking behind her on the tile of the entryway floor. She nodded toward one of the chairs by the elevator. “Have a seat please.”

  “Come in,” Oliver called when she knocked. He was sitting at his desk, feet up, fingers tented, looking out the high-rise window. His profile would have satisfied a Grecian sculptor, his dark, close-cropped hair shining in the morning light, his tie loosened, jacket unbuttoned. He was clearly lost in thought.

  Kelsey prayed Mrs. Lockheed wouldn’t tell him that she hadn’t been at her desk when she arrived. If there was one thing about her job she hated most, it was disappointing Oliver Pierce.

  “Good.” He acknowledged her with a nod when she set the file on his desk, reaching for a yellow legal pad on his desk, tearing off the top sheet. “Here, send this out to the sales staff. Use the new interoffice message system, okay?”

  “Um… Oliver… ” She crumpled the paper in her hands nervously, clearing her throat. His gaze moved over her camouflage t-shirt—far too tight—down to her skirt—far too short—to her crazy, striped tights, lingering there on the length of her legs. She’d worked for him only a short time, but she’d never seen him look at her quite like this. It made her wonder what he was thinking.

  She tried again, more formal this time. “Mr. Pierce… Mrs. Lockheed is waiting to see you.”

  “Fuck.” He swung his feet on the floor, putting his hands flat on his desk blotter, head down. Kelsey swallowed, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Mrs. Lockheed definitely didn’t have an appointment, and while Kelsey didn’t know exactly what her presence in the office meant, she didn’t think it could be a good sign.

  Oliver raised his head, meeting her eyes, straightening his tie and buttoning his jacket. He had his game face on. It was formidable. It actually made her knees wobbly.

  “Show her in.”

  “Yes, sir.” She headed out, ready to do his bidding.

  “Oh, and Kelsey.” His voice stopped her at the door. “If you wear something like that to work again, trust me when I say this—I will spank you.”

  She stood, hand on the knob, blinking at him, breath caught in her throat. What did he say? She opened her mouth to reply, maybe even clarify. She had most certainly misheard him.

  Spank me? Did he really…?

  “Yes, sir.” She flushed, meeting his steady gaze and tugging at the hem of her very-short skirt.

  He nodded, dismissing her, and she hurried out into the entryway where her desk—and Helena Lockheed—were waiting.

  “You can go in now.” Kelsey directed the leggy, older woman, still praying that she wouldn’t say anything bad to her boss about her.

  The woman didn’t respond. She just swept into Oliver’s office, exclaiming her greeting. Kelsey watched in surprise as the brunette leaned in to kiss her boss, leaving lipstick on Oliver’s cheek as he turned his head, before the door swung closed. Kelsey felt a strange sort of heat in her belly, wondering what their relationship was. Just business, surely?

  Kelsey went back to her seat and busied herself at her computer, hiding behind it as she began typing the memo from the crumpled note she’d spread out on her desk. They were still working the bugs out of the new interoffice message system, and she hoped the new ID the tech guy had given her worked this time. Last week, her messages had gone floating somewhere into the ether, and the entire office hadn’t known about the upcoming audit.

  But Oliver didn’t threaten to spank you for that mistake, did he?

  Kelsey stared blankly at what she’d typed, her face flushing with heat at the memory of her boss’s words. Spank. Surely he hadn’t meant it literally. Spank. Maybe it was a metaphor? Oliver wouldn’t actually spank her. That would be… well, wrong. So why did the thought of it make her belly burn and her ass clench?

  Sexual harassment had been covered in a whole class during her orientation, and she was pretty sure something like that would qualify. Of course it would. If casual touching and dirty jokes could be considered harassment, spanking would cross every conceivable line in the handbook!

  But would you tell anyone?

  What if Oliver Pierce did decide to spank her? She closed her eyes, imagining being bent over his big desk, his hands pulling up her skirt. Oh, no doubt, it would be humiliating. It would be humbling. It would most certainly be twisted and disturbing and downright perverted.

  So why was she getting wet just thinking about it?

  She wondered if something qualified sexual harassment if the harrassee didn’t mind?

  Her best friend, Jenna, who had at least landed a job in her field after they graduated—nursing—had explained that all businesses did training about sexual harassment now. And of course, with so many younger, good-looking people working for the insurance giant that Oliver Pierce ran—including himself—the whole sexual harassment thing had to be covered thoroughly with all of the employees.

  Kelsey stared at her computer screen, lost in thought. She’d tried for months to find a job in her field—journalism—after college, but it had been fruitless. Finally, in desperation, she’d applied for this position. Executive secretary. She had no experience as a secretary, but she was incredibly well-organized and could type ninety words per minute. She’d padded her resume with as many skills as she could muster, and to her surprise—to everyone’s surprise—Oliver had hired her. She still couldn’t figure out why.

  She ran spell-check—Oliver was a stickler for errors—and then triple-checked the memo.

  Please note the change in our Lockheed meeting time. Due to the audit, we will be meeting in conference room C at 2 pm tomorrow. As you know, the Lockheed account is up for re-bid, and I don’t think anyone else can touch us on it, but I need the Lockheed numbers from all of you at the meeting, everything up to date.

  Regards,

  Oliver Pierce

  OP/kw

  Kelsey hit “send” as Oliver’s office door opened. She glanced up, seeing Helena Lockheed exiting, the door closing quickly behind her, her long legs scissoring across the tile floor to the elevator.

  She wondered what had happened behind closed doors—her imagination was working overtime—but neither woman spoke. Kelsey was too terrified to say anything, and she assumed Mrs. Lockheed found Oliver Pierce’s secretary too much of a peon to pay attention to. The elevator opened and swallowed the woman’s svelte figure, leaving Kelsey alone again, still waiting for the familiar “message sent” window to appear. It was taking forever! She nibbled on her index-finger nail as she watched the hourglass.

  “What the—?”

  A window popped up: “Message Sent to All Employees,” followed by a blinking “New Message” notification. So did it send or not? She wondered. Maybe the new message was her message? Hoping that was the case, Kelsey clicked on the latter, still frowning as she read:

  Sexy. Those stripes are sexy. They’re driving me to distraction. Men’s room. Five minutes.

  Kelsey’s eyes widened and her heart lurched in her chest. It wasn’t signed, and the User ID was strange to her: DUX217

  Who was DUX217 and who the hell did he think he was? Kelsey considered printing it out and taking it to human resources to file a complaint. Certainly this would count as sexual harassment? Maybe she’d take it to Mike, the tech guy, to find out who the ID belonged to.

  She read it again. He called me sexy. What had Matt called her? Doll. Not sexy. Still… could it be? The thought made her feel weak and a little dizzy.

  “Did you send that memo?” Oliver’s deep voice startled her and Kelsey looked up to see him standing at her desk. The message forgotten, she jumped up, and then remembered what she was wearing almost instantly. His eyebrows rose again, looking at her outfit, his expression dazed and a little confused, almost as if he’d convinced himself it had been a hallucination before.

  “Yes, sir,” she ass
ured him, the phone ringing. She reached for it, seeing his gaze moving over her again. He was looking at her like he’d never seen her before.

  “Good.” He glanced at her hand, still on the ringing phone. “You might want to pick that up.”

  “Yes, sir.” She did as she was told, watching him walk down the hall and turn the corner.

  “Kelsey, the copier is acting up again!” It was Matt.

  “Is it the paper tray?” Kelsey sighed. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Somehow she had become the office copier expert—how had that happened? Every time it stopped working, for whatever reason, someone called Kelsey. She barreled around the corner and stopped short, her mouth dropping. There was a line at the copier that stretched to the filing cabinets. My god, was the whole damned office making copies?

  “Oh good, there you are!!” Matt nudged his way to the front of the line. “Can you fix it?”

  Kelsey opened the paper tray and found the problem immediately. She pulled out the extra paper that had been caught in the feeder, half printed and smeared with ink. She shut the door with a bang, standing back up.

  “There you go.” Kelsey looked down at the paper in her hand as she hit the ‘clear’ button a few times. It looked like a copy of the Lockheed numbers. Guess my memo made it out, she thought. “Try it now.”

  Matt hit the green “copy” button and the machine roared to life. He gave her a wink. “Excellent! Thanks!”

  Turning to go back to her desk, Kelsey hesitated, frowning. She crumpled the paper in her hand, tossing it at the wastebasket. She missed, though, and dipped to retrieve it. Matt was done, and the next person in line was Steve from personnel. Kelsey saw a flash of the document as he laid it on the glass and she opened the crumpled one in her hand. It was exactly the same. What was Steve from personnel doing copying the Lockheed numbers? Matt, sure—he was in sales.