Karma's POV

What the hell happened? Did I just let my boss fuck me on the stairs? Did I lose my freaking mind? Oh My God, someone could have seen us and I didn't even care. What the hell was wrong with me?

Dazed, I stumbled away from the wall and ran out from there to the closest restroom I could find. I did a quick check under all the stalls to make sure they were empty and then turned the lock on the main door. As I approached the bathroom mirror, I winced. And damn I looked like shit.

My hair was a mess, my lips were swollen, my makeup smudged; my dress was stretched out and practically hanging on me, and I was once again missing my panties and probably my dignity as well.

Son. Of. A. Bitch. That was the second pair. What she was doing with them anyway? Collecting them or something? What a sick pervert, they were probably laying in a drawer in her office. Ugh I can't believe I let her do this to me again and the worst part? The bitch didn't make me come, she fucking left me hanging there like a complete idiot, but I guess I deserved that. God what was I thinking? Answer: I wasn't. I really wasn't.

When I came in this morning, I'd had a plan. I was going to ignore her, throw that stupid receipt on her face and tell her to fuck off. But then she looked so goddamn sexy in that Prada suit and her hair screamed "Fuck me" and just lost all coherent thought. I know, Pathetic. What was it with her that made my brain turn off and my panties turn on fire? I never had such a primal respond with anyone ever.

This was not good. How I was supposed to work with her if I can't stop imagining her naked? Well not naked, I hadn't seen her completely undressed yet, but what I had seen… Damn, she's a goddess on earth.

Did I just say "yet"? No freaking way, this has to stop, immediately. I needed to quit, that was the only option, but I hated the idea because I loved my job and although Miss Raudenfeld might be the world's most epic evil witch there is, she was in fact extremely good at her job, even though I didn't always love her methods, she gets the job done in no time. She really was a genius in the marketing world and I was learning so much from her this past few months. Putting the last twenty-four hours aside, I had her figured out and could handle her like no other. And as much as I hated to admit it, I loved watching her work, and watching her, of course. Shut up brain you're not helping my case here.

The biggest issue was my scholarship. I needed to present my in-world experience to the JT Miller scholarship board before I completed my MBA, and I wanted my thesis to be a powerhouse. It's why I stayed on at RMG: Amy Raudenfeld offered me the Booker account—the marketing plan for the multibillionaire land developer—which was a bigger project than anything my peers were working on. Four months wasn't enough to start somewhere new and have anything good to show for it . . . was.

So leaving was definitely out of the question. I needed a plan and lucky for me I'd always been a planner. I had to remain professional, that meant No More Sex , even if this was the most hottest and intense sex I'd ever had in my life… even when she was withholding orgasms from me. Witch.

I was a strong, independent woman. I had a career to build and had worked ridiculous hours to get where I was. My mind and body were not ruled by lust. I just needed to remember what a controlling, arrogant and unnerving bitch she was. Oh, and of course let's not forget her superiority complex, she assumed everyone around her was a mindless idiot.

I smiled at myself in the mirror and reeled through a collection of my recent Amy Raudenfeld memories. "Miss Ashcroft if I wanted my coffee to tasted like mud I would have scooped my mug through the garden soil this morning", "Did that keyboard did something to you Miss Ashcroft? Because I can hear you over here and is annoying me, please shut the door", "Is there a valid reason it's taking you forever to take those contracts to legal? Does daydreaming about farm boys take up all your time?"

Hell, actually, this would be easier than I thought.

Feeling a new sense of determination, I straightened my dress, smoothed my hair, and marched pantiless and confident out of the bathroom. I quickly retrieved the coffee I was after and headed back to my office, making sure to avoid the stairs.

I opened the outer office door and stepped in. The door to Miss Raudenfeld's office was shut, and there was no noise coming from inside. Maybe she stepped out. Yeah, sure like I could get so lucky. I pulled open my drawer and removed my cosmetic bag, fixing my makeup before getting back to work. The last thing I wanted to do was face her, but if I didn't plan on quitting, it would have to be done eventually.

When I looked through the calendar, I remembered she had a presentation before the other executives on Monday. I grimaced when I realized this meant I would have to talk to her today to prepare materials. She also had a convention in San Diego next month, which meant I would have to be not only in the same hotel as her, but in the plane, the company car, and any meetings that came up as well. No, no awkwardness there at all.

For the next hour, I found myself glancing up at her door. And each time I did, my stomach began to flutter. This was ridiculous! What was wrong with me? I shut the file I was unsuccessfully reading and dropped my head into my hands just as I heard her door open.

Miss Raudenfeld walked out, not meeting my eyes; she had her briefcase in hand. "I'm leaving for the rest of the day" she said, eerily calm. "Cancel my appointments and make any necessary adjustment"

"Miss Raudenfeld," I said, bringing her to a stop, her hand resting on the door. "Please don't forget you have a presentation to the executive committee on Monday at ten." I spoke to her back. She stood still as a statue. "If you like, I can have the spreadsheets, portfolios, and slide materials set up in the conference room by nine thirty."

I was so enjoying this right now. Everything about her posture screamed uncomfortable. "Sure" she said in a very inaudible voice and started to make her way out of the door when I stopped her again.

"And Miss Raudenfeld?" I added sweetly, "I need your signature on these expense reports before you leave." Her shoulders dropped and she exhaled tiredly. She was losing her patience. Good. She made her way to my desk, still avoiding my eyes as she leaned over and flipped through the forms to the Sign Here tabs.

I placed a pen on the desk. "Please sign where the tabs are, Miss"

She hated being told what to do what she was already doing, and I stifled a laugh. Snatching the pen from me, she slowly raised her face, meeting her stormy green eyes with my hazel ones. Our eyes locked intently for what seemed like minutes, neither looking away. For a moment I had the irresistible urge of lean in, bite that bottom lip of hers and fuck her senseless and for the look I was receiving from her she was thinking something similar as well.

"Don't forward my calls," she spat out, quickly signing the last form and tossing the pen onto my desk. "If there's an emergency, contact Lauren."

"Bitch" I murmured to myself as I watched her disappear.

To say my weekend sucked was an understatement. I hardly ate, I hardly slept, and what little sleep I did get was interrupted by fantasies of my boss naked above me, beneath me, behind me. I almost wished for the return of classes just so I had something to distract me.

Saturday morning I awoke frustrated and crabby but managed to somehow get myself together and take care of housework and grocery shopping. Sunday morning, however, I was not so lucky. I woke with a start, panting and trembling, my body sweaty and twisted in a mass of cotton sheets. The dream I had was so intense it had actually brought me to orgasm. In the dream we were both naked on the conference room's table, she was on her back and I was straddling her, my body sliding back and forth. She was touching, kissing, tasting and biting everywhere: my face, down my neck, my breast… and then our eyes met, green with hazels ones and I lost it. I broke into million pieces.

"Shit" I groaned as I pulled myself out of bed. This was getting worse by the second. How the hell this happened? One minute I hated her guts and the next one I was letting her fuck me on a table and against a wall… and I actually liked it.

I started the shower, and as I waited for the water to warm, my thoughts began to drift again. I wanted to see her eyes looking up from between my legs, wanted to see her expression as I savored her cunt and I ached to hear the sound of her voice saying my name when she came on my mouth.

Fantasizing with her that way was trouble. She was trouble, a very sexy trouble and a successful executive with nothing to lose. Me on the other hand was just her intern. Collateral damage. I had everything to lose, everything I'd ever work for gone if someone finds out whatever the hell this is. So yeah, thinking about her was dangerous and it needed to stop ASAP. How to do that? No fucking idea.

I showered and dressed quickly to meet Zita and Shane for brunch. Zita and I got to see each other every day at work, but Shane, my best friend since middle school, was tougher to nail down. He was a buyer for Gucci and dutifully filled my closet with samples and overstock. Thanks to him and him discount, I owned some of the most beautiful clothes money could buy. I still paid a pretty penny for them, but it was worth it. I made decent money at Raudenfeld Media, and my scholarship covered all of my school costs, but even I couldn't spend nineteen hundred dollars on a dress and not want to off myself.

I'd sometimes wondered if Hank paid me so well because he knew I was the only one who could handle her daughter. Oh, if only he knew.

I decided to keep quiet about what was happening with Miss Raudenfeld. Hell I didn't even know myself what was happening with her. Zita worked for Lauren Cooper, Miss Raudenfeld's step-sister and saw Amy around the building all the time; I wasn't going to ask her to keep that kind of secret. Shane on the other hand would kick my ass. For almost a year he'd listened to me complain about what a major evil bitch Miss Raudenfeld was to me, he would not be happy to find out that we were screwing.

Two hours later I was sitting with my two best friends, drinking mimosas on the patio of our favorite restaurant, talking about men, women and clothes and work. Shane had surprised me with a dress made from the most sumptuous fabric I'd ever felt. It sat in a garment bag slung over the chair next to me.

"So how's work going?" Shane asked between bites of her melon. "The lady dragon still giving you a hard time, Karma?"

"Oh, the Ice Queen aka Beautiful Bitch." Zita sighed, and I carefully studied the condensation on my champagne flute. She popped a grape into her mouth and spoke around it. "God, you should see her, Shane. It's the most perfect nickname I've ever heard. She is a goddess. And I mean that. There is nothing wrong with her physically. Perfect face, body, hair and those eyes… I'm not even a lesbian and I think she's hot."

"But she really is awful" Zita continued, growing serious. "I mean, I wanted to punch her in the face within the first fifteen minutes of meeting her." "She is evil and I talking "The devil wears Prada" kind of evil". "And she doesn't have a soft spot like Miranda in the movie, she is the devil."

"What is her problem?" Shane asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Shane loved the drama.

"Mommy issues" I said in unison with Zita. "Her mother never fully accepted her for who she was" continued Zita, her voice laced with pity.

"Yeah, her mother sees her stepsister Lauren like the daughter she never had, is pretty sad actually" replied Karma feeling sorry for her boss for a minute.

"Well maybe, she acting bitchy all the time is some sort of defense mechanism." "Like she's bitter and feels like she has to work harder to prove her mother she is good enough" reasoned Shane.

I snorted. "There isn't a deep reason. She thinks everyone should care as much and work as hard as she does and most people don't. It pisses her off."

"Are you defending her Karma?" Zita asked with a surprise grin.

"Of course, not" I replied annoyed. I wasn't defending her right? Right?

I noticed Shane's brownish eyes were trained on me and had narrowed in silent accusation. I'd done my share of complaining about my boss in the past several months, but maybe I'd never mentioned that she was gorgeous?

"What are you hiding from me Karms? Is your boss a hot babe? Shane asked.

"She is gorgeous, but her personality ruins everything for her." I tried to be as nonchalant as I could. Shane had a way of reading every thought I had.

"Well," he said, shrugging her shoulders and taking a long sip of his drink, "maybe she's pissed off because she's not getting laid"

I tipped back my champagne flute as my two friends howled in fits of laughter.

Monday morning, I was a bundle of nerves as I made my way into the building. I'd made my decision: I wasn't going to sacrifice my job because of our lack of judgment. I wanted to finish this position with a stellar presentation for the scholarship board and then leave and start my career. No more sex, no more fantasizing. I could easily work—business only—with Miss Raudenfeld for another few months.

Feeling the need for a boost of confidence, I wore the new dress Shane had given me. It hugged my curves without looking too provocative. But my secret confidence weapon was my underwear. I'd always had a thing for expensive lingerie, and early on had learned where to hunt for the best sales. Wearing something sexy under my clothes was empowering, and the pair I had on would most certainly do the trick. They were black silk in front, embellished with embroidery, and the back consisted of a series of delicate tulle ribbons, crisscrossing to meet in the center near my tailbone with a dainty black bow. With each step, the fabric of my dress caressed my bare skin. I could take whatever Miss Raudenfeld had to say today, and I could dish it right back to her.

I'd arrived early to have time to prepare for the presentation. It wasn't strictly my job, but Miss Raudenfeld refused to have a dedicated assistant, and when left to her own devices, she was a disaster at making meetings pleasant: no coffee, no pastries, just a room full of people, pristine slides and handouts, and, as always, endless work.

The lobby was empty; the wide space opened three stories up and gleamed with polished granite flooring and travertine walls. As the elevator doors closed behind me, I gave myself a mental pep talk, recounting all the arguments we'd had and the jackass comments she'd made.

"Type, don't write anything longhand. Your handwriting looks like a third grader's, Miss Ashcroft."

"If I wanted to enjoy your entire conversation with your graduate advisor, I'd leave my office door open and get some popcorn. Please, keep your voice down."

I could do this. That bitch had picked the wrong woman to mess with, and I'd be damned if I would let her intimidate me. I lowered my hand to my ass and smiled wickedly . . . power panties.

As I expected, the office was still empty when I arrived. I gathered everything she would need for her presentation and headed to the conference room to set up.

Glancing around the sun-filled room, I set the files and laptop on the large conference table and helped the catering staff set up the breakfast spread along the back wall.

Twenty minutes later the proposals were set out, the projector was prepared, and refreshments were ready. With time to spare I found myself wandering over to the table. Memories of that night were still burning in my mind.

"Ask me to make you come."

I closed my eyes and let the power of the memories overtake me for a moment.

I was startled from my fantasy by a throat clearing behind me. "Daydreaming on the clock?"

"Miss Raudenfeld," I gasped, spinning around. Our eyes locked and I was once again struck by how beautiful she was. She broke eye contact to survey the room.

"Miss Ashcroft," she said, each word sharp and clipped. "The presentation is on the fourth floor"

"Excuse me?" I asked, irritation flooding me. "Why? We always use this room. And why did you wait until the last minute to tell me?"

"Because," she said with a condescending smile on her face, "I'm your boss and I said so sweetheart" You had a problem with that Miss Ashcroft? She asked defiantly.

My mind flooded with white-hot images of my fist connecting with her throat. It took every bit of control I had not to jump across the table and strangle her. A smug smile crept over her face.

"Fine by me," I said, swallowing my annoyance. "No good decisions are ever made in this room anyway."

When I turned the corner into the new conference room, my eyes immediately met Miss Raudenfeld's. Sitting in her chair, her hands predictably tented in front of her, she was the portrait of barely contained patience. Typical.

Then I noticed the person beside me: Hank Raudenfeld

"Here, let me help you with that, Karma," he said, taking a stack of folders from my arms so I could more easily maneuver the cart full of food into the room.

"Thank you, Mr. Raudenfeld." I shot a pointed look at my boss.

"Karma," Mr. Raudenfeld said, laughing. He took some handouts and sent the stack around the table for the attendees to take. "How many times do I need to tell you to call me Hank?"

I smiled gratefully at him as I sat down. "How is Susan doing?"

"She's doing fine. She keeps bugging me about having you over," he added with a wink. Susan was Hank's new wife. He divorced Amy's mom, I mean Miss Raudenfeld's mom a couple of years ago but they were still friends. Her mother married Lauren's father two years after that.

"Please tell her hi from me."

"I'll sure do" said Mr. Raudenfeld smiling at me kindly. The last one in arrive was Lauren Cooper. She looked a little annoyed and flustered, probably because the change of plans.

Sorry I'm late, guys. I guess I thought we were meeting up on your floor." She glared at her sister in disapproval. Miss Raudenfeld just rolled her eyes at her and ignored her.

I chanced a smug look out of the corner of my eye, meeting my boss' gaze. The stack of handouts came back to me and I handed a copy to her. "Here you are, Miss Raudenfeld."

Without so much as a glance, she snatched the stack and began leafing through them.

Witch

Just as I was taking my seat, Lauren's high-pitch voice called out "Karma, I found these on the floor of the conference room" I walked over to her and saw two buttons sitting on her palm. I immediately recognize those buttons and knew who the owner was. A smug smile forming on my face. "Would you ask around and see if anyone's lost these? They look kind of expensive."

"I think I'd seen these buttons somewhere before" I said pensive. "Hmm, Miss Raudenfeld, don't you have a shirt with these types of buttons? I said taking her by surprise. A look of panic flickered on her eyes for a few seconds but soon was replaced with cold indifference.

"No," she said, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. "I don´t"

"Are you sure? Because I could have sworn you wore a shirt with similar buttons the other day" I said sweetly.

"Yes, I sure Miss Ashcroft, you probably need some glasses" she said sharply, her green eyes colder than ever.

"Oh my mistake, sorry Miss Raudenfeld" I said feigning repentance. She gave me a look that made my bones tremble. She was mad and I was going to pay for this later.

Throughout the meeting we cast glances at each other, mine were sweet and caring and hers were fueled with anger. She looked down at the spreadsheets in front of her as much as possible to avoid looking at me.

As soon as it was all over, she gathered her things and got the hell out of there. I followed her all the way to the elevator. It was empty, just the two of us. She was lying by the wall of the elevator. Eyes closed and arms crossed in a defensive posture. I was in front of her expecting to be yelled or punch or whatever but she just ignored me completely. A few minutes passed, the air became tighter, and I could feel the tension building, that magnetic pull between us.

"You know Miss Ashcroft I'd never thought you be that kind of women" she said, her voice steely, her eyes still closed.

What kind of women? I asked curious.

"The kind that likes to ruin someone's reputation just because she didn't get what she wanted" she replied, anger tinting her voice. She finally opened her eyes, her look cold as the arctic.

"Now, look who is been dramatic, huh" I said ironically. "Nobody was paying attention, relax" I said dismissively.

"You think you're the only one who can lose everything?" "You don't have a fucking idea of how much I worked to be where I am now.""That little stunt you pull back there? That could have seriously hurt my career" she screamed at me, leaving me momentarily speechless. I've never seen her like that, totally enraged. She was always so in control of her emotions. I decided it was best to apologize.

"I'm sorry, ok? I went too far". I apologized sincerely. She took a big breath to calm herself I assumed and then she moved past me and went directly to the control panel of the elevator. She pushed a red bottom and the elevator stopped moving completely.

"What are you doing?" I asked alarmed. Was she planning to kill me? Because, it sure looked that way. Then she started to walk slowly towards me like a predator stalking her prey, until I was completely cornered against the elevator's wall. Her eyes were dark green and lustful, and her breathing was becoming a little erratic. I could feel myself getting unbearably hot by the second. Her closeness was affecting my body in ways I never thought possible.

"Sorry is not enough, Miss Ashcroft" she said hoarsely, her lips at inches of mine. She grabbed my hand and tucked it into her pants. She made me touch her. She made me feel how soaking wet she was because of me. And that turned me on a lot.

"I need that pretty devious mouth of yours on me. Now" she demanded seductively. She didn't need to ask me twice, I was more than happy to do it. I've been fantasizing about it all weekend.

"Ok, I'll do it". "But after this we're done" I said, my voice a little husky. Her eyes told me she didn't believe me and to be honest I didn't either. This thing between us was an addiction.

"Agreed". "Now get to work, Miss Ashcroft." She whispered in my ear.

I slowly started to remove her pants just to tease her a little. She noticed and groaned at me in response making me smile mischievously. She was eager for me and that gave me satisfaction. Next stop were her panties. Nice Raudenfeld seems I'm not the only one who likes expensive lingerie, too bad I going to destroy them. I tore them apart, just like she did with mine and left them lying on the floor.

"Hurry the hell up" she growled at me, her voice raspy.

"Bossy much?" I said teasing her. She looked at me frustrated and I winked at her just to annoy her. Although I loved to push her bottoms, I was in fact eager to taste her, so I did. And I took my time doing it.

I explored every inch of her pussy thoroughly. I bit, licked and savored her cunt like the forbidden fruit that it was. For the moans I was hearing and the way she was grabbing my hair, I was doing a great job apparently. She came hard on my mouth after a few minutes of torturing her clit with my tongue. Her cheeks flushed, her breathing erratic and her eyes the darkest green I've ever seen. Mission Accomplished.

"That was… Wow" she said breathless. She was still recovering from the mind blowing orgasm I just gave her. I smiled smugly at her reaction. I was feeling quite powerful actually and totally turned on but I wasn't expecting for her to return the favor.

"I know" I said proudly and smiled at her triumphant. "And this" I said grabbing her ripped underwear from the floor, my war trophy "Is Mine Now."