Power Play: Kelsey and the Executive

eXcessica publishing

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

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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
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Cover design © 2012 Willsin Rowe

First Edition April 2012

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Table of Contents

Kelsey and the Executive

About Selena Kitt

Bonus Excerpt!

More Books from
Selena Kitt

More from Excessica

S
elena
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.