Chapter 3

Three months later

Zazie

My brother and my grandmother had been ganging up on me for as long as I can remember. Honestly, I didn’t really remember anything before eight, but they had regularly complained about my “impulsivity problem”.

I thought they were nuts. I wasn’t impulsive. I had an appreciation for nice things!

And then I’d started shoplifting. I’m not talking about stealing gum at the checkout line, either.

And then I’d started shoplifting well.

And now I was working at a jewelry store, surrounded by temptations for nine hours a day, every day.

It was time to realize that they were right. And now I was in the middle of a big goddamned problem, and I was really struggling to keep myself together. I hated working there… yet I loved it. I longed for the place on my days off. And the home shopping network, which normally I watched in my bedroom with my hand down my pants, was barely taking the edge off.

Working around all this shiny stuff wasn’t enough. I wanted to roll in these gems. Would it probably be uncomfortable? Yeah. Penises were probably uncomfortable too, but lots of women wanted those inside of them anyway. Maybe this fantasy was like that—something deep, animalistic. Definitely shiny. So shiny. I just wanted to take them all and run away with them, but the one that was calling my name the most was the gorgeous diamond necklace in Murtagh’s office.

I tried to ignore it at first, but it was becoming harder, not easier.

Murtagh and I had developed a rapport. He could talk about gems as much as I could, only he knew a lot more than even I did. He was one of the most interesting gemologists probably in the world, and I had read a lot about gems from people in-the-know. He had studied them, he was very respected in his field, and he had come from apparently a long line of gemologists. I was super jealous of his knowledge.

I was even more jealous of that necklace, which I stared at a lot during our little chats.

I was closing up for the day and was really taking my time polishing some items while I looked through Murtagh’s open office door at the necklace.

Today was the day. I hadn’t known it was; but it was the day I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed that necklace like I needed air. Maybe not for long. I was just gonna snuggle it for a few… months…? It would just be a wild little fling…

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I searched my inner self for some hidden supply of self-control, and I did not find it. In fact, the more I focused on breathing, the more I tried to think of a plan to steal that thing. I couldn’t slip into his office undiscovered, unlock the glass cabinet, and stuff it in my pocket before I ran out that door.

Or could I?

That would be pretty bad job etiquette, but the thought intrigued me. It wouldn’t be that hard. I’d gotten away with stuff like that before. Just not with anything nearly as valuable as that necklace was.

Fuck.

It was stunts like that which made up most of my high school career. If you put me on a mission to find anything, anything at all, I’d find it, whether it was a dollar bill, a ring, a stolen car, the works, especially if it was a pretty jewel. I didn’t know why I was so good at finding things. It was just a special skill that I’d been blessed with all my life. I was bad at finding people or animals—just as bad as anyone else, I imagine, but with stuff—well, as far as I could tell, Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost and stolen articles, didn’t have shit on me.

Back in my freshman year of high school, a friend of mine had lost her mother’s locket during Phys. Ed. She’d taken it off during class and come back to see that her locker had been broken into. It had taken me less than an hour to find it discarded in a bush about a block away from the school.

I didn’t know how it got there or who had even stolen it in the first place, but none of that was important. I’d found the locket and that was what mattered.

Word spread about my success, and soon, my reputation as the go-to person for finding things had solidified. It was a peculiar superpower, one that I didn’t quite understand myself, but I’d come to rely on it time and time again. And hell, it had made me a bunch of money over the years, but my jobs had been few and far between. It was hard to find new clients based on word of mouth alone.

It was growing dark outside, and I was supposed to close the shop up on my own. I had the place to myself. Murtagh had already left for the day and hadn’t said anything about coming back before he’d handed me the keys and gone out the front door.

I could almost smell Murtagh’s cinnamon and clove scent in the room. He was a fascinating man. He wasn’t overly friendly, but I felt drawn to him in a way that I shouldn’t. No doubt he was twice my age, but my silly little brain kept thinking about how a little thing like that didn’t really matter if it made me happy.

I shook my head, the light catching a particularly pretty tanzanite tennis bracelet, and I stopped my fantasizing short.

Murtagh was my boss now, which meant that he was off-limits.

Come on, Zazie! Didn’t they always say not to mix business with pleasure?

My brain understood that, but my body didn’t want to listen. I wanted to turn my jealousy into something dirty. Something that I had never craved before.

Too bad he was going to really hate me and make things awkward as soon as I stole his necklace. Which I was totally going to do; it wasn’t an if as much as a when.

The clock ticked behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder. Closing time was just minutes away, and I kind of wanted to sneak into the back and just look at the necklace one more time.

Lookingwouldn’t hurt right?

With a shaky breath, I locked the front door and glanced around the quiet space. The diamond necklace in Murtagh’s office tugged at my thoughts, and despite my internal battle, curiosity quickly won over caution. I tiptoed towards the back, all while I held my breath in anticipation.

Entering Murtagh’s office, I felt the atmosphere shift. The air held a faint scent of leather from the worn-out chair behind the desk. It was a space devoid of any technology, no sleek computer or digital screens in sight. Instead, stacks of paper covered the desk. The walls were covered with built-in shelves, each one straining under the weight of files, books, and binders. There was even an old-fashioned corded phone hooked on the wall. It was a little strange now that I thought about it.

Who didn’t have a computer in this day and age?

Maybe to leave room for the huge pile of snack food he kept there where a computer was supposed to be. Maybe he couldn’t do both and chose with his heart. And his stomach. For a man that didn’t have any fat on his body, he had the nutritional palate of a pudgy preteen gamer boy.

My eyes were drawn to the glass cabinet containing the diamond necklace that had been haunting my thoughts. It sparkled in the dim light, casting delicate reflections on the surrounding jewels. I hesitated, torn between the desire to admire its beauty and the awareness that I was trespassing on forbidden territory.

The clock on the wall ticked away, a reminder of the limited time I had before I needed to get out of here. My hand reached out to the cabinet, fingers grazing the cool glass.

Glancing around to ensure I was truly alone, I selected a key that seemed to match the lock on the glass cabinet. As I slid it in, a quiet click signaled success, and the cabinet door swung open with a whisper.

My breath caught as I delicately lifted the diamond necklace from its display. The pendant sparkled in my hands, casting a play of light that danced across the room. Its intricate design captivated me—the way each diamond was meticulously set creating a breathtaking cascade of brilliance that I couldn’t look away from.

I marveled at the craftsmanship, the delicate chain feeling weightless between my fingers. As I held the necklace, time slowed, and I found myself lost in its ethereal beauty. Unable to help myself, and completely lost as to what consequences were attached to the action, I opened my purse and slipped it inside. I was just reaching to close the zipper when I heard a deep, sudden rumble of a man clearing his throat, and I jumped about a mile in the air.

“What are you doing?”

With a start, I squeaked and nearly threw my purse into the air—straight upwards. I caught it before it was too late and jerked my gaze to the door.

Murtagh was standing in the doorframe, leaning against it with a weary expression on his face.

Fuck. How long had he been standing there? Had he seen me slip the necklace in my purse? Had he noticed the glass case was empty? Was there any way in the world I hadn’t just fucked myself right out of a job and straight into a jail cell? Without even getting to spoon with the necklace for a couple of nights?

“Nothing,” I tried, but it didn’t look like he believed me. “Just closing up your office.”

Don’t be suspicious. Don’t be suspicious.

My brain did that weird thing where it was just repeating a phrase in a nervous singsong voice, just like from TikTok. It was as if my mind had skipped like a scratched record.

“That’s not what’s going on, is it?” he pressed.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I countered. With extreme hesitation, I pushed my purse behind me. Maybe he hadn’t noticed, and I could just pretend like everything was fine and go on my way like nothing was wrong at all.

A girl could dream, right?

“Take the necklace out of your purse, little thief,” he said, all while he closed the door behind him. He turned and pushed the key into the door, locking us both inside with an ominous click. Slowly, he pressed the key back into his pocket and brought his head around to lock eyes with me, and my mouth went dry in an instant.

That wasn’t good. I watched him put the key away while wondering why his door was so fucking old-fashioned that it locked both ways. My pulse was spiking.

A bead of sweat formed on my forehead as Murtagh’s stern gaze bored into mine. Panic surged through me, and my heart raced as I fumbled to come up with some sort of excuse that might work to get me out of here with the absolute least number of repercussions.

I came up with nothing.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I drawled, and he just shook his head, which made my stomach flutter with butterflies in an instant. I took a step back, hoping to put some distance between us, but the office wasn’t very big, and he was already close enough to reach out and touch me. The back of my heel brushed against a metal cabinet, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep a brave face while my insides were crumbling with nerves.

He gave me a very exhausted look. “Don’t play coy with me, little one. You’re already in enough trouble as it is. You wouldn’t want to make things worse for yourself, would you?”

I shivered at the heavy meaning in his tone. I didn’t even know what he was getting at, but I already knew it wasn’t good, especially for me.

Murtagh’s presence seemed to grow larger with every step as he stalked towards me. The air in the room felt charged with tension, and I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had crossed a line, and I really wasn’t going to like what came next. He loomed over me, and I shrank back.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I whispered.

“No? My diamond necklace isn’t in your purse right now?” he pushed, the firmness in his voice making my nerves jump into overdrive.

I cringed. I’d really fucked up big time, hadn’t I?

“Well, I wasn’t going to…” I muttered, but he leaned over me, took my purse, and plopped it onto his desk. It made a sound like it was filled with diamonds. Because it was.

“Reach inside and take it out,” he instructed, his expectation loud and clear. I didn’t see any other option, so I slowly pressed my fingers inside and pulled out the necklace.

I was already feeling very sorry for this whole thing as I pleaded, “Listen, I didn’t mean to…”

He chuckled softly as he stepped towards me.

As Murtagh closed the distance, his eyes never leaving mine, he reached out and gently took the diamond necklace from my trembling hands. The room seemed to hold its breath as he cradled the exquisite piece, his gaze shifting to the intricate pendant.

With reverence, he placed the necklace back inside its case and clicked it shut.

“Now that the necklace is back where it belongs, I think you and I are going to have a discussion about what happens to little thieves who think they can steal from me,” he rumbled, and my stomach did somersaults like it was the tumbling squad on competition day.

“I’m fired, aren’t I?” I whispered.

“No,” he growled.

That was not the response I’d expected. I had to be fired! I was obviously a thief. I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie-jar! Him not firing me didn’t even make sense.

“Huh?” I said as my mouth dropped open with confusion.

“You’ll continue working for me, and that’s final,” he told me crisply, his posture perfect as he crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “But I think I’m going to handle you differently from now on.”

Handle me? I didn’t like the sound of that. My grandma would sometimes issue threats about ‘handling’ me (I’d been ‘handled’ into getting decent grades, ‘handled’ into the SATs, ‘handled’ into keeping my room clean), and I long ago realized I didn’t like being handled.

I took another step back and he rounded his desk, cornering me with the massive form of his body. The tension between us was close to the breaking point, and I glanced up, suddenly held captive by the beautiful jade of his irises.

Our eyes locked, and the world seemed to narrow down to the charged connection between us. Time stood still until I felt the warmth of his body against mine, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping me. It smelled of cinnamon and cloves, smoke and leather and all the things that a man was supposed to smell like. It was a heady aroma, and I found myself teetering on the edge of something unknown.

What is happening right now?

He reached out and his fingers threaded around my throat, only just grazing against my skin, and a fiery blast of desire rattled through me in an instant. I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d never been with a man. I’d hardly even dated, but right now my body was simmering with an unhinged kind of heat that I barely even recognized.

His presence was electrifying, and I found myself surrendering to a desire that defied any reasonable sort of logic. In that charged moment, our eyes communicated a language of longing and connection that words couldn’t capture, and I held my breath.

As if drawn in by an irresistible force, Murtagh leaned down, closing the remaining distance between us. The world around us blurred, and the anticipation between us hung thick in the air. And then, with a gentle yet soul-igniting intensity, his lips met mine.

He kissed me.

At first, the kiss was gentle enough to steal my breath away as his body molded around mine.

As the kiss went on, however, it turned harder, rougher, punishing even, and I yelped, but he swallowed the sound.

His strong arms circled around me, pulling me closer as if the world outside had ceased to exist. I felt the forcefulness of his kiss, a commanding presence that left me breathless and bewildered, and there was nothing for me to do other than give in.

In that moment, I was caught in a whirlwind of sensations, each conflicting with the other. The punishing nature of the kiss left me both vulnerable and exhilarated. My heart raced, the echo of the yelp mingling with the thunderous rhythm of the storm of desire circling inside of me.

When he finally pulled away, my lips ached. I drew my fingers up to my mouth, touching where his had just been. Tingles of pleasure pulsed through me, all stemming from his touch.

“You taste as good as you smell, little thief,” he purred, and the sound made my core squeeze tighter with building heat.

Maybe I could get out of all of this by using my body. I could have sworn he had looked interested since the interview, and now after that kiss, I couldn’t ignore that anymore. He was most definitely into me, and I could use that against him.

Maybe.

His fingers wound around the back of my neck as I gazed up into his jade-green eyes. They were soft, contemplative even, and I hazarded a smile.

“As pretty as you are freshly kissed, I think you’re going to be absolutely radiant once you’ve been properly punished,” he said softly, and it took several seconds for what he said to truly sink in.

What? Punished? With what, a slap on the wrist, a dock of my pay?

He’d already said I wouldn’t get fired, which was probably a bad decision on his part, but who was I to judge? If he wanted to keep me on after this, that was on him, not on me.

His hold on the back of my neck tightened suddenly, and he spun me around, swiped his arm across the desk to clear it, and bent me over it so quickly that I didn’t even have a chance to fight back against him. Instead, I was staring straight down at the polished grain of the wood before I knew what was happening.

It was only after I was held down in place that I had the forethought to even make a sound of protest.

“What are you doing?” I finally managed.

“You tried to steal from me, Zazie. I can’t let that go unpunished, so now I’m going to teach you that there are painful consequences to your actions,” he warned, and I stiffened, my mind racing to try to figure out what was going on.

“What do you mean? Are you going to fuck me?” I squeaked, my voice coming out quite a tad higher than I meant it to.

“If you take your spanking like a good girl, I just might.”

I froze.

So much to unpack there. I checked my brain to make sure I heard that right, but it seemed like it had short-circuited. I didn’t know what to address first.

Wait, no. I did.

“Spanking?”

I’d never been spanked before. My parents were long-dead, and now I lived with my elderly grandmother who, although she could scold me into anything and would wake me up with ice-cold water, wouldn’t lift a finger to swat a fly.

“Yes, naughty girl. I think a good dose of my hand will teach you what happens to little thieves who try to steal from me,” he threatened, and I shrieked, using my hands to push up against the desk. I only got about an inch of clearance before his palm pushed me back down into place with ease, like I was nothing more than a mouse caught in his trap.

He was so much bigger and stronger than me. He had a physique that made absolutely no sense on a gemologist or a jewelry store owner. I shifted from one foot to the other and tried once more to push up. Using every last bit of my strength, I threw everything I had into trying to escape from the bent over position he’d pinned me in, but it was as useless as a paper umbrella in the middle of a hurricane. He kept me in place so easily that it would have been embarrassing if anyone had seen it.

The gravity of the situation finally hit me.

I was locked in the shop after hours with Murtagh, and there was nothing I could do about it. There would be nobody to rescue me because Sasha was on vacation with a new boyfriend. She wouldn’t be home for another week. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and I wouldn’t be able to defend myself. I didn’t even have the slimmest chance of winning a fight against him. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to grapple with the insanity of my current reality.

I was so fucked. Literally and figuratively fucked.

He could decide to spank me, rip my clothes off and take my virginity whether I liked it or not, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do to stop him.

“Please, be reasonable. You can’t spank me. I’m eighteen and that would break every rule in the HR rule book,” I explained like I was the expert in the subject, and he simply chuckled like I’d said the funniest thing on the planet.

“I own this place, Zazie. I am the HR department,” he laughed, and my stomach twisted tighter with nervous tension.

“I’m an adult,” I whined. I lifted my leg and tried to kick him, but he easily wrangled my leg with his and pinned it against the desk too.

“I know, and you deserve to be spanked like one,” he countered, and I screeched as I grappled with the reality of this actually happening.

“I don’t want you to spank me!” I pouted, feeling I should be clear here. I didn’t want it, and I was inwardly pissed at myself that I had gone with the ‘I’m an adult!’ argument that had never worked even on my grandma when I was getting chewed out, instead of the, ‘I’m jus’ a widdle goyl, don’t spank me too hard…’ strategy. Thoroughly held in place, I finally slumped against the desk, coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to be able to escape unless he let me.

I was definitely screwed.

With one arm pinned over my back, he ran his fingertips down my arm and then towards my hip. His hand brushed against my backside, and I jumped, the unexpected contact almost more than I could bear.

Wait. What was he doing? He wasn’t going to lift my skirt, was he?

As his hand journeyed further, I came to the startling conclusion that was exactly what he was doing. I renewed my struggle, putting everything I had left into fighting him off and failing so utterly and completely that I blushed with shame.

“Let me go! Somebody help me!” I shrieked.

“No one is going to help you, naughty girl. You need to be punished, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen,” he said darky, and a shiver raced down my spine.

“Wait, you can’t!”

“I could call the cops, little thief, but I think a sore bottom will be enough to suffice for your little transgression,” he answered, pushing down even more firmly on the hand that was pinning my arms to my lower back.

As much as I couldn’t believe it, I knew that he was in control. There was no victory against him.

I was going to get spanked, and there wasn’t the slightest thing I could do about it.

Maybe I could take it well and he’d be merciful. Hopefully, it wouldn’t really hurt. I mean, parents had punished children this way for ages, which meant that it couldn’t really sting that much. Hell, I’d been through worse: broken bones, stubbed toes, the works.

“Please, don’t lift my skirt,” I begged.

He didn’t listen.

Instead, he reached down and did exactly that, scrunching it up to the small of my back as I closed my eyes. I wished I’d worn thicker tights. These were just something I put on so that I wasn’t showing so much leg. I should have gone with fully opaque ones.

“These tights are pretty, but your bottom is going to be entirely bare for your spanking,” he replied, and the breath caught in the back of my throat.

Bare?

“No! Please!” I wailed, but he didn’t listen to that, either.

Without pause, he gripped my tights in his hands and tore them like they were no more than a sheet of paper.

Oh God! What panties was I even wearing? Were they pretty? Sexy even, maybe?

“These are very cute, little thief. It’s a shame they need to come down,” he murmured.

Oh, sweet Baby Jesus. It finally hit me what pair they were.

Covered in little pretty pink hearts and roses, they were something that would be in a teenager’s closet rather than a grown woman’s. If I had known a man was going to be seeing my ass today, I would have picked a red lacey pair or maybe a black one. Definitely not these.

My cheeks reddened so hot that it felt like they had caught flame. I knew he was looking at them. He’d even said it out loud, which made it worse. I prayed for a black hole to open up beneath me and swallow me up, but I didn’t have that kind of luck.

This day was shit. Total fucking shit.

I wasn’t getting out of bed tomorrow. After today, I deserved a whole week off before I even cracked open the Wanted Ads. Swallowing back my shame, I pulled my shoulders back and arched my spine.

“Whatever, pervert. Do your worst,” I dared him, which was probably stupid of me, but I was feeling defensive now that I was bent over my boss’ desk about to get my panties pulled down for a bare bottom spanking.

So be it.

“You’re going to regret that, little thief,” he mused, and I gritted my teeth.

I could do this. I’d take the spanking and then after it was over, I’d walk out of here and never come back.

His fingers slid along the waistband of my far too girly panties, and his touch was enough to send the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach into overdrive.

Shit. This was really happening.

He curled his fingers underneath the hem and then slowly started to pull them down.

I had thought it was going to be bad.

It was so much worse.

Shame sliced through me like a hot knife through butter. My cheeks burned in a way that made me feel scalded, and my heart was thrumming so fast in my chest that I thought it was going to beat right out of it. My blood boiled inside of me as he pulled my panties down inch by inch, revealing all of my bare ass and everything in between my legs.

There was no doubt in my mind that he could see my pussy too.

I squeezed my thighs together as tightly as I could, but I had a feeling that did little to hide my most private of places. With a heavy swallow, I breathed in and out and tried to be brave for whatever was going to happen next.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“No,” I lied, my voice wavering just a bit more than I wanted it to.

“Don’t lie to me, little thief. I can see your legs trembling,” he observed out loud, and I didn’t give him the pleasure of a response.

“That’s not all I can see, Zazie. Want to know what else?” he pressed.

“No,” I assured firmly, because I was terrified of what he was about to say.

I wasn’t na?ve. Even though the feeling of sexual desire was quite foreign to me, I knew my entire body was pulsing with it. Every inch of me was swirling with heat, from my hard nipples still safely encased in my bra, to my core which was squeezing tighter and tighter with unreleased need with every passing second.

“I think you’re enjoying the thought of being punished, little thief. I can see the threads of your arousal dripping between your thighs,” he continued, and my shame compounded on itself, collapsing inwards and sweeping me along for the ride.

I’d ignored the way the sensitive little bundle of nerves between my thighs was throbbing. I’d blissfully overlooked the wetness dripping down my inner thighs, telling myself it was simply too warm in the office, and I was sweating because of that, but I knew better.

It wasn’t sweat. It was arousal.

And now I had no choice but to face it.