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“If you keep it up, I’ll have to take you over my knee.”
Olivia smirks at me and takes a sip of her coffee. We had explored a few things in the bedroom, and spanking was one of them. She claims she never thought she would enjoy it unless it were the one that was delivering the spanks. I love to rub her perfect ass and place a gentle smack right in the middle of it while my cock hardens as she lay over my lap.
“I’m going to finish getting dressed,” I say, rising.
“Are you wearing the red sweater?”
“You really like that on me.”
A couple of weeks ago, Olivia purchased a red v-neck sweater that hugged my body and showed off my muscular torso. I remember how her eyes shined when I slipped it on.
“You look sexy when you wear it.”
“Just when I wear the sweater?”
“All the time. Just sexier when it’s on you.”
I laugh as I head to my closet to finish dressing. When I’m done, I hear what sounds like retching coming from the guest bath. I hurry to the closed door and try to open it, but it’s locked.
“Sweetheart? Olivia, are you okay?”
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
I’m wracked with worry. This wasn’t the first time I had heard her throw up in the past two weeks. I’m certain she was doing it more frequently than what I’ve overheard. Olivia is good at hiding sickness from me. I lean against the hallway wall waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. She looks pale when she opens the door.
“I’m fine,” she assures. “I told you I get nauseous in the mornings. It’s just nerves.”
“What do you have to be nervous about?”
“I’m a supervisor now. I have more responsibility.”
“No more than you had when you left for Chicago. Why is it getting to you now?”
“I have more employees and projects to track. It’s very stressful.”
“If it’s too much, you can step down. Do you want me to talk to Zane?”
“Absolutely not. I deserve to be a supervisor. I worked hard to get there.”
“I’m not saying you didn’t, but if it’s going to make you sick and affect your health, then it’s not worth it. You can move in with me, so you don’t have to worry about finances.”
“Luc, I don’t need you to take care of me. Stop being a mother, hen.”
“I didn’t know my caring about you was such a hardship,” I say sarcastically, walking away. Olivia is fast on my heels.
“Don’t walk away; I want to discuss this. I appreciate all you do for me, and I understand you worry, but don’t. I’m a grown woman.”
“So, should I not give a shit?” I retort.
“I didn’t say that! Just back off some.”
“Whatever,” I mumble as I sit on my bed to pull on a pair of socks.
“Enough with the passive-aggressive crap.”
“I’m not passive-aggressive.”
“You are. Before this turns into a big argument, I’m leaving for work. I’ll talk to you when you get to the office or at lunchtime. I think you need to cool off.”
