Asrai Devin

Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.” ― Sylvia Plath

It’s Complicated


Jake Boyd has a successful real estate business, a beautiful wife, and the biggest house. Everything a man could want. Until his spoiled wife leaves him from his competitor. Then Jake’s out for vengeance, and Jessi is the only one within his reach.
Jessi Taylor has been partying at her stepdad’s expense for years. She’s shocked when he shows up to drag her home to work for him. In hopes of him reinstating her allowance, she defies his demands. Only to find he’s not giving in, he meant it when he said he’d spank her. It should infuriate her but it only arouses her, and she pushes boundaries searching for another taste of pain.
Jake finds his stepdaughter is intelligent, charming, and she could be the best salesperson he’s seen. And spanking her brought his dead libido back to life. He should be counting the days until she’s out of his house, but he only wants more of her.
Can Jessi be his happily ever after or will his ex-wife ruin everything again?
Content warning: drug use, alcohol, a fuckton of swearing, spanking, and other forms of kinky fuckery. 

Chapter 1


Jessi threw her head back as she rode through the orgasm. Her white-gold waves brushed her shoulders, she waved her head enjoying the feeling. She moaned loudly as pleasure tore through her. Dylan grabbed her hips as she melted, and thrust into her until he came.

She threw herself on the bed next to him. Without looking, she grabbed the pipe off the side table. She rolled to her back. “You want another hit?”

When he didn’t answer, she sat up against the headboard and grabbed the lighter. Dylan pushed his shaggy brown curls out of his glazed over eyes. “Give me a minute, love.” At least it sounded like that. Between how fucking high she was and the orgasm, she was a little fuzzy brained. His Australian accent didn’t make it any clearer.

She lit the pipe and breathed the sweet smoke. She offered the pipe to him as the warmth touched her mind.

A pounding on her door almost made her drop the pipe.

“What the fuck?” Dylan said.

She giggled. It was probably a neighbor complaining about the smell again. Who the fuck cared? “Here take this. I’ll go tell them to fuck off. Or if it’s that bitch from upstairs, I’ll invite her to join us. She needs the stress relief.”

She rolled off the bed and grabbed her satin pink robe off the end of the bed. Her toes dug into the wool of the rug at her bedside. Maybe she should buy a silk rug to use in the summer. Silk should be cool and soft, like her robe. She shrugged and pulled the robe around her, tying the sash around her waist.

“You could at least cover yourself.” Dylan pointed the pipe at her barely covered ass.

Jessi glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “We have a better chance for a threesome if I show my assets.”

“If it’s another woman, I’m in. I’m not touching another guy’s dick.”

“Because we’ve never done that.” She breezed across the hardwood floors of the condo. She ran her hand along the beige wall in the hallway. Beige was no longer in vogue, and it clashed with the dark sheen of the floors. She wondered if Dylan knew any painters. Perhaps a dark gray. She could get it done while she was on tour and come back, buy some new accessories to match. Perfect.

She opened the door a crack.


She tried to push it closed. She needed more clothing. She needed to be sober. A polished black shoe pushed between the door and the frame, preventing her from closing the door. “Jessica.”

She hated when he used her full name. The commanding voice helped sober her. “Jake.” She spoke in a monotone to hide how his sudden appearance at her door had stopped her heart. What the fuck did he want on a Monday morning? Afternoon? She wasn’t sure of the time.

He saw the stunned look in her eyes, or her altered state of sobriety. He took advantage of her shock to push the door open. She stumbled back. “Not calling me Dad today, Jessica?” His suit filled the doorway. His lips were pressed together, but the corners turned up into a smile that held no happiness. Jake wasn’t a particularly happy man in general, but today he was pissed. And she was the winner in the sweepstakes of target for his rage.

“It’s Jessi. And you aren’t my father.” She crossed her arms over her chest. If only she heeded Dylan’s warning to wear clothing that covered her ass. Jake, despite only being a decade older than her, always had a look that made her feel like a child.

He stepped into the apartment and three men moved past them. What the hell was going on? “We’re taking everything,” Jake said over her head. Jessi dragged her eyes away from his perfect blond head to see two men lifting her sofa. Her stomach lurched.

Before she reacted, Dylan’s voice rang out. “What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck are you?” Everyone turned, and Jessi cringed. He was naked, predictably, and still holding the smoking pipe. The sweet scent filled the room. She wanted to grab it and finish off the herb. She needed it to deal with Jake.

No, she needed a clear head to deal with his demands. Where was her mother in all this? Why hadn’t she warned Jessi? Or had the selfish woman left her second husband again? Part of Jessi was surprised Jake put up with her mother’s antics for more than a decade. Sheila was selfish and spoiled. Her only stock in Jessi was the younger woman’s good looks. And Jessi ruined her looks with tattoos, piercings, and dyed hair, at least according to her mother.

“I’m Jessi’s stepfather. Get the fuck out of my apartment.” Jake’s mouth curled into a snarl.

“You live here?” The pipe dropped to the floor and rolled. She froze. Would it burn the floor?

“He pays for the place,” Jessi groaned. She started for the pipe, but Jake grabbed it first. Paid for the place described the current tone of the situation. She’d have to work magic to save her ass. But she couldn’t flirt with Dylan in the apartment.

Jake’s ice blue eyes traveled over her like a rough caress. Her eyes narrowed on the angles of his face. “Get fucking dressed. Send your boyfriend home. We’ll talk. And for fuck’s sake, open the windows. I’m getting high standing in this room.”

Jessi’s face tightened. How dare he come into her house and treat her like a child? He was right, Dylan needed to go. There was no way she could charm Jake with her lover watching. Jake would never calm down in the presence of the shaggy stoned Aussie.

She grabbed Dylan’s hand and dragged him to the bedroom. She threw his clothes at him and grabbed the first thing in her drawer her hand touched.

“You’re letting him walk in here and talk to you like that?”

“Who the fuck do you think pays the rent? Why do you think we can lie in bed every damn day fucking and getting high? Who paid for the weed? I can make him realize he’s acting hastily. Stay here.”

Jake threatened to cut her off several times before, but now he was acting on it. Once she was dressed, she closed the door, and put on her best smile, hiding her thrashing heart.

“Jake, I know you want to remind me who is boss here. A phone call would have sufficed. I’m looking for a job.” She wanted to scream at the men clearing out her apartment to stop. The words froze in her chest. Even if she did, they’d never listen. Jake had the authority.

He turned from where he was watching one man empty her cupboards into a box. His eyes flashed. “Don’t lie to me ever again!” The words lashed Jessi. Jake paused as calm returned to his stare. “I have a job for you. You will work for me.”

Her breath stuttered. “Doing what?”

“You’ll be my assistant. No more free ride.” He returned to watching the men pack her belongings.

He wouldn’t give her a chance to charm him. She pulled out her desperation card. “What does my mother say?”

The chill returned to his eyes and his voice. “I don’t care what she says. She moved out three months. She didn’t tell you?”

She rubbed her hands over her arms. Her mother was such a fucking bitch. “How many times have you separated?”

“I’m not discussing details of my life. Point is I’m not paying for your lifestyle anymore. That shit is over. You are twenty-four. It’s time to grow up, learn some skills and pay your own way.”

His plan was ludicrous. She was a terrible employee. Maybe they could compromise on at least one point. “Why can’t I stay here while I work for you?”

“Because I’m not paying for this apartment anymore. The landlord wants you out. Too many complaints about the drug smell. You can live at home, or you can pay for it yourself.” He was immovable as a mountain when he decided something. She’d seen it as a teenager, but she’d never been on the receiving end.

Since Jessi had no way out, she’d poke at him. Being irritating would prove he made a mistake. Then the movers picked up her sofa. She whirled to Jake. “You’re taking my furniture?”

“My furniture. There isn’t one thing in this apartment, I haven’t paid for.” He stepped into her space, looming over her, crowding her. “Including you.”

She gasped. Did he call her a whore?

“Your education, your food, your drugs. It’s all over. You have one month to prove you can work for me, Jessica.”

“My name is Jessi.” She narrowed her eyes.

He grabbed her hair. “I don’t fucking care. If you can prove yourself, I’ll pay you a wage that can pay all your needs.”

“You aren’t going to pay me for a month?” Her voice was a whine, she couldn’t help it. He was hurting her.

He pulled her closer to speak in a low voice in her ear. “Considering how much I’ve paid for you over the past few years, a month is the least of what you owe me. After that, you can move out if you wish. Do whatever you want. If you fuck up, you’re out on your ass. Do you understand?”

She nodded, a little. His tight grip on her hair kept her from moving. She swallowed as she met his steely gaze.

“Say it out loud, Jessica.”

His tone scorched all the liquid from her body. She managed to lick her lips to find her voice. “I understand. One month to prove myself. If I prove I can do your damn job then what?”

His hand dropped away. “Then you can keep your job with me, you can look for something else. I’ll pay you the same as I pay my current assistant.” His eyes dropped to her mouth and she frowned.

Was he checking her out?

No. Jessi tossed her hair. She wasn’t fragile or struggling. She was… what? Having fun, enjoying her life, more than he could claim. “I’ll pack my clothes.”

“Good girl.” He stroked her arm and she had the urge have a hot shower to erase his touch. “Pack what you need for the next month.”

She would follow until she figured out a way out. Unless she found a plan, she was fucked, and not in a good way.

She slammed the door to her room. Dylan was sitting on the bed. “You have to go,” Jessi said, grabbing her suitcase from her closet. She should have listened to her friend who said move to Europe. Jake wouldn’t be able to steal her belongings in Europe.

“That’s your stepdad?” Dylan looked stunned.

“Yeah. And I have to work for him for a fucking month.” She pulled open her drawer and contemplated the contents. Fuck it, she grabbed a handful and tossed it at the suitcase.

“We’re going on tour in two weeks.” Dylan was sobering up at least. He could walk out of the apartment on his own. She was supposed to go on tour with them.

“I’ll figure it out before then. I’ll get out of this, but unless you can somehow magically pay for me, I have to go with him. Help me pack, for fuck’s sake.” She closed the empty drawer and opened the one under it.

“I don’t think I want any part of this. I’ll catch up with you when I get back.” Dylan edged toward the door.

“You’re dumping me?” Her stomach caved in.

“You aren’t touring with us. There will be a lot of women…”

His words dumped realization over her like cold water. “You’re dumping me so you can fuck whoever you want on tour.” She dropped the sweaters she was holding. “Get the fuck out.” She kept her voice low so Jake wouldn’t overhear.

“Jess don’t. We’ll catch up when I get back.”

“Fuck you,” she screamed, storming to the door. She opened the door and found Jake standing there. He looked smug. “Dylan is leaving.”

“I’ll escort him.”


Dylan paused at the doorway. “Babe, come on. I still love you.”

“I highly doubt that. Just leave. I hope you get a venereal disease while on tour.”

Dylan’s shoulders heaved and he shook his head. Jake grabbed his arm and Dylan shook him off. “I’m leaving, man. Fuck.”

Jessi turned back to her sweater collection. She was zipping the second suitcase when Jake’s movers came in and took her bed.

Unable to watch her life being stripped away, she grabbed a travel bag and locked herself in the bathroom. She dialed her mom while she lit a cigarette.

“Hey Jessi, my girl. I was going to call you.”

“Sure you were. Who did you leave Jake for?” Jessi put her toiletries in the bag. Dishes could be replaced. Her makeup was worth more than either of the men touching her furniture.

“His name is Paul. He’s a sweetheart.” Sheila Boyd cooed the words, making Jessi nauseous.

“Jake worshiped the ground you walked on. If you’d stop cheating on him…” This was her mother’s fault. Why couldn’t she do one fucking thing that helped her daughter?

“Why do you care?” She imagined Sheila tossing her perfect hair over her shoulder. Or tapping her manicured finger nails on the nearest surface.

“He showed up and took all my furniture away.” Jessi took a long drag from her cigarette.

“What? Let me call him.”

What exactly would calling do for either of them? “Jake will not keep paying for me if you’re gone. And he’s not taking you back.” Jessi knew Jake hit his limit with Sheila’s crap.

“You can come stay with Paul and I.”

Fuck no. “No… That won’t work.” Jake’s offer of a job and housing was better. He employed a cook and housekeeper, and his job offer was superior to anything she could get on her own. Even with her degree, she had no experience.

“Where will you go? With Dylan?” Was that concern in her mother’s voice for someone other than herself?

“Jake will let me live with him, and he’s giving me a job. If I can prove myself for one month, he’ll give me a permanent job and salary.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t think he’d do this. Didn’t you have a job?” The concern in Sheila’s voice was almost real enough for Jessi to believe she was worried for her daughter. Almost.

Jessi nearly laughed. She hadn’t worked in a year. None of her jobs ever paid the bills, so she quit trying. Since Jake was footing her bills, she had time to follow Dylan’s band around. They were on the verge of a major record deal. “Not for a while.”

There was a knock on her door. “Jessica!”

Jessi shrank from his anger outside the door. He smelled the smoke. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you in a few days.” She ended the call and tossed her cig in the toilet and flushed.

When she opened the door Jake coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. “You will not smoke in my house,” he said without his mouth moving from the thin line he pressed it in.

“I called Sheila.”

He swallowed and she swore his eyes looked a little pained. “What did she say?” This was Jake. He didn’t feel pain.

“That she’s a selfish bitch.”

“Well the apple doesn’t fall far—”

She screamed. “Don’t. Go. There.” She dropped her shoulders. “I should give you credit for putting up with her bullshit longer than most.”

“And yours.”

She tossed her platinum hair again. “What did you need?”

“Everything is packed.”

“That quickly? Where is it going?” Would she get her stuff back?

“Storage. Which, yes, I am paying for. You can have the location and key at the end of the month.”

“Great.” She grabbed her bag from the sink and pushed past him. Her suitcases were gone and she turned to him.

“They put your suitcases in my car. Anything else will cost you.”

She slung her makeup bag over her shoulder and grabbed her purse from the back of the bedroom door.

At the house she called home for only a few years, she took her bags to her old room. She looked around. They erased any traces of her teenage years. It was now a neutral guest room, beige, and impersonal.

She unpacked her suitcases then went downstairs in search of food.

In the kitchen, she was greeted by her favorite household staff. She’d worked for Jake since Jessi was a teenager. “Jessi,” Katherine said warmly. Her familiar soft brown eyes were comforting.

Jessi opened her arms and they hugged. “Hello Katherine. I’m home.”

“I heard you were staying with us for a while.”

“Yes, I’m working for Jake.”

“I heard that as well.” Katherine would never speak ill of her employer. She always wondered what Katherine said when she got home about them. She wondered if Katherine knew Jessi was blackmailed into this job.

“Is there anything to eat?”

“There’s leftovers. Or I can make you something. Whatever you want.”

“I’ll eat the leftovers. I can get it myself.”

“Miss Jessi, you know that won’t fly in my kitchen.”

“Who do you think has been getting my meals since I moved out? I don’t have a cook where I live.” Lived. She sighed thinking of her apartment and the freedom it gave her.

A few minutes later Katherine put the plate of heated leftovers in front of her. Jake came into the kitchen, and the temperature dropped ten degrees. Five degrees from the ice in his eyes, and five from his attitude.

“Katherine, if you’ll excuse us. I need to talk to Jessica alone.”

“Of course, Mr. Boyd.” They watched Katherine leave then turned to each other with a defensive pose.

“You aren’t making Katherine call you Mr. Boyd are you? She’s family.”

“That is her choice.”

Jessi wanted to slap him, but the act would enrage him. She would lose her chance to return to her life. She ignored him in favor of Katherine’s mashed potatoes, the best thing she’d ever tasted. Jessi wasn’t high, so her appreciation equaled a rave review.

“And I don’t ask her to call me that, she started all on her own a few years ago. You’d know if you came to dinner in the last three years.”

“I come here. I make sure it’s not when you’re home.”

He scoffed. “Look I didn’t come here to argue with you about everything under the sun. You think I’m an asshole. I think you’re a spoiled brat.”

“You are an asshole.” She was not a brat. Her grandfather spoiled her, but her mom had gone through that money between the death of Jessi’s father and marrying Jake.

“Despite what we think, you are working for me. I will leave the house at eight. I expect you to be ready by then. The office opens at nine thirty. I want to get there early so I can prep you on your duties and my expectations.”

“Can’t we discuss the job tonight?” she asked, through a mouthful of food.

His lip curled back. “Isn’t it enough you’re a pothead with a loser boyfriend? Can you not talk with your mouth full?”

“My ex-boyfriend is in a band, he’s not a loser. They are this close to a contract with a major label. I enjoy getting high, helps me loosen up and had a good time.” She looked over his suit. “Probably something you know nothing about. If you ever want to learn. Let me know.”

“Right, so never. Do you think you can handle it? Or do you want me to wake you in the morning?”

“I’ll wake myself and be ready on time. I got through college with a four-point-zero GPA. While partying every weekend, I might add.”

“I know I saw your transcripts.” He crossed his arms while he watched her eat. “So you’re intelligent, well-spoken, and beautiful. Yet you chose to do nothing with your life for the past three years while I paid your bills.”

She didn’t know what she should react to first. She had to go with stunned. He thought she was smart, and beautiful? “I was going to write a novel when I first graduated, but I learned I’m not great at writing. I learned I am great at partying, and you are supposed to follow your bliss and do what you are good at. I took that very seriously.”

“See? You can rattle a witty comment off without thinking. You were popular in high school, I assume you still have a good network of contacts.”

She had contacts from her time with the band, but she doubted he would approve. “I don’t think you’d like them. They are more rock-and-roll and potheads than suits and business.”

“What I meant was you know people. If you applied yourself, you could obtain your real-estate license and sell houses. I think you’d be good at it if you actually tried.”

“This is the worst pep talk ever.”

“It’s not a pep talk. It’s the truth. But since you don’t want to listen, be ready to roll by eight a.m. It would be earlier, but I’ve been up since three a.m.”

She wanted to ask why, but she decided she didn’t care about him. She was forced to interact with him for work, but he didn’t say she had to socialize. When they were home, she could avoid him as much as possible.

He stared at her for several more seconds. She glared back. Was he going to stand there and watch her eat? What a weirdo. A hot weirdo, all her friends loved visiting to gawk at him. Their moms gawked as well. Jessi thought he was handsome at first, but he was also dating her mom, so ew.

He stared at her for a long moment, then he walked away. Jessi leaned on the cool table top, polished so well she could see herself in the wood.

She sighed so heavy she expected it to thump on the table. This month would feel like years. And probably take years off her life. But he would lose years from his life span, so she had a small win. Tiny. Minuscule. She’d take any success.

When she finished eating, Katherine took her dishes away. She and Jessi hugged again before Jessi returned to her room and stared at her phone. Text her friends? Play silly video games? Nothing appealed to her. She wondered if Dylan had gone out as they planned, only now she was stuck in hell. He was likely partying. Her phone rang. Sonya, the drummer’s girlfriend from Dylan’s band. She dropped her head back, another ally in the new war. She answered and music poured in. “Hey Sonya.”

“Jessi. Where are you?” Sonya’s words slurred, but Jessi had known her long enough to understand.

“At home. Didn’t Dylan fill you in?”

“He’s shit faced.”

Jessi snorted; Sonya was drunk too. But as far as Jessi could tell inebriated might be Sonya’s natural state. “My stepfather is cutting me off. I have to work for him for the next month or he’ll kick me out.”

“I didn’t know your dad was paying for everything.”

Because she didn’t broadcast the information. “Well now you know.”

“Shit I’m sorry. What about the tour?”

Jessi paced the room, her volume rising. “Dylan dumped me, so even if I figure out a way out of this, I’m done with his ass. I’m only someone he fucks.”

“Fuck that sucks. We should get together. I still love you even if you aren’t my band wife.”

“Yeah. Before you go on tour for sure. Tell Dylan to go fuck himself.”

She ended the call when her door banged open. “We can hear you down the hallway. You want to keep it the fuck down?” Jake flared.

Could he get off her fucking back for one minute? Was he going to keep going until he ruined her entire fucking life? She met his flashing eyes with her own glower. “I’m talking to the one friend I have left. Your bedroom is at the other end of the house.”

“I moved out of the master suite. I’m two doors down.”

“Get the fuck out of my room.” She stepped toward him.

Jake’s hand snapped out and snatched her wrists. “I spoiled you. No punishments, you got whatever you wanted. I think you need some damn discipline in your life.”

“Like what?” She twisted her arms, trying to extricate herself from his grasp.

“A good spanking? I think it would do some good.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her body went rigid, her cheeks flushed.

“You willing to test what it takes to push me? You want to see what it takes to end up over my knee?” He jerked her forward until she was under him, their bodies barely touching at the chest. They stared at each other for several heartbeats, her breath getting quicker as each one past. Heat curled between them.

“Good night, Jake.”

He snorted derisively, pushed her back, and dropped her arms. One side of his lip curled up before he turned. She stood where she was until he left the room, shutting the door quietly. She sneered at the door, “Fucking snake.”

But he wasn’t as bad as Dylan. The asshole dumped her so he could get laid while he was on tour and thought she’d wait for him. Jessi broke out of her suspended state and paced the length of the room. She needed a smoke. She’d rather get high, but she wasn’t willing to risk homelessness on her first night home.

If she was the worst assistant, he’d be forced to throw her back in her apartment. She couldn’t be overt about it, she’d have to be inept. She could be inept.

There was the threat of violence. A smile tweaked at her lips. Would he keep his threat to spank her? What would it take to piss off Jake the great? She tested him a little when he first married her mother, but he never exploded, so she gave up. Not like her mother.

He probably wouldn’t spank her, but the idea intrigued her. She had a shit ton of sexual experience. Dating Dylan exploded her world. Threesomes, orgies, lesbian experiences. She had guys doing cocaine off her stomach while Dylan fucked her.

Spanking was not something she had done for enjoyment or punishment. Not even as a child as Jake indicated. She doubted it would have deterred her. In fact, him bringing it up was like challenging her.

She was so tempted. So very tempted. She stripped off her clothes and slipped into the bathroom off her bedroom. One good thing about rich people was every damn bedroom connected to a bathroom.

Maybe she should rock this job thing so hard they gave her a corner office and she wouldn’t have to grovel to a man ever again. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted on her own terms.

She’d figure that out in the morning. But first she’d see how she could poke at Jake. Just a little.

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