The Punishing Polly Collection - Kelli Wolfe - ebook
Opis

Polly just wants to graduate from college, but somehow she’s always getting into trouble with her boss or the neighbors and whenever that happens it seems there’s only one way to fix things.

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THE PUNISHING POLLY

COLLECTION

 

 

POLLY AND HER NEIGHBOR, POLLY AND HER BOSS,POLLY AND HER DOCTOR, POLLY AND HER PREACHER

 

 

 

 

KELLI WOLFE

 

The Punishing Polly Collection

Copyright © 2014 Kelli Wolfe

Published by Pink Parts Press

 

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced in any form or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

To be notified of new book releases and sales, sign up for Kelli’s mailing list or subscribe to her blog. She also writes romance under the pen name Olivia Blake.

Summary

Polly just wants to graduate from college, but somehow she’s always getting into trouble with her boss or the neighbors and whenever that happens it seems there’s only one way to fix things.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

 

Polly and Her Neighbor

Polly and Her Boss

Polly and Her Doctor

Polly and Her Preacher

 

Bonus Material

 

Sneak Peek: Built for Sin

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Kelli Wolfe/Olivia Blake Catalog

About the Author

Polly and Her Neighbor

SHE WAS RUNNING LATE AGAIN. It was the third day that week Polly had overslept, hitting snooze half a dozen times before she finally dragged herself out of bed and into the shower to let the steaming water jolt her out of her somnolence. Even then she felt barely half-awake, still bleary-eyed as she stepped out to slip on a robe and wrap a towel around her pale blonde hair. It wasn’t until she staggered into the kitchen for her coffee that she came completely awake—and that was because she saw the time. As panic dumped a surge of adrenaline into her bloodstream she scampered back to her room to get dressed, her coffee sloshing dark droplets onto the beige carpet in her haste.

One more year. She just had to make it through one more year and she would be finished with college and she could slow down a little. The hectic pace of trying to both work full time and take a full load of classes had begun to take a toll, especially now that she was taking the harder, senior-level courses. After work she would grab some fast food she could quickly wolf down in her car and head across town to class, often not getting back home until after the university library closed at midnight and her study group broke up. Then it was home to finish any last-minute homework and collapse into bed for a few hours of fitful sleep before getting up and starting it all over again.

She rummaged through the clothes piled by the bed until she found a white skirt with black polka dots that wasn’t too wrinkled—her boss, Mr. Evans, didn’t allow jeans in the office—and dragged out a dark pink top to go with it. With a thin white leather belt and a pair of black strappy sandals from her closet to finish off the outfit she figured she was presentable enough. She might not win any fashion awards, but Mr. Evans would most likely be looking at her legs and not her clothes anyway. A hurried pass of her comb through her still-damp curls and a couple of minutes’ work on her face completed her efforts and she bolted out the door. If she hit the lights right she could just squeeze in to work on time.

She yanked hard on the door of her fifteen year old rust bucket to break loose its sticky latch and slid in, dropping her purse onto the passenger seat. As the engine purred to life she dragged the seat belt across her body and eased into reverse all in one swift motion. Twenty-one minutes left. Goosing the gas she lurched backwards down her driveway and onto the street, wrestling her car around the Escalade parked partway across her driveway. As she swerved to get around it she caught a glimpse of black in her mirror just before she smacked with a cringe-inducing tinkle of breaking glass and plastic into the car which had been masked by the bulk of the SUV.

It was Josh Bennett’s brand new Dodge Charger.

Polly’s knuckles whitened as her hands clenched on the steering wheel. She had twenty minutes left to get to work on time. Josh Bennett was arrogant and patronizing and if she had to tell him she had just smashed into his new car he was going to be even more unpleasant to her than usual. He’d keep her tied up for an hour at least while they sorted out the insurance and he berated her and insulted her driving ability.

But it wasn’t her fault that the idiot next door insisted on parking that behemoth right against her driveway, was it?

Heart pounding she glanced quickly to either side, but the coast seemed to be clear. So far no one had noticed her little accident. For another endless moment she sat there biting her lip then she hit the gas and took off down the street as though she had a pack of rabid insurance claims adjusters hot on her tail.

To her surprise she did actually make it to work on time.

At lunch she went out to the parking lot to check the damage, but there was nothing except a dark smear of paint along with a couple of sharp pieces of clear plastic embedded in her rear bumper. A little work with a damp rag removed the worst of the evidence, and Polly went back inside to eat her lunch with a growing sense of relief. It looked as though she had dodged the bullet.

Her study group broke up early so it was only nine o’clock when she pulled into her driveway that night. For once she wasn’t completely worn out, and she thought she might actually get to watch a little television before she went to bed. Once she had changed into a pair of soft pajama pants and a tank top she went to the living room and flipped on the TV. After a bit of channel surfing she found what she wanted—and she had just enough time to make some popcorn before the show started.

No sooner had the microwave started its buzzing hum than the doorbell rang.

Her mouth went dry. No one that she knew would come by this late without texting or calling first. That could only mean…

Josh Bennett stood directly under her porch light, tapping a stack of papers against one leg. Polly wilted as all her dreams of getting away scot-free withered away, but desperation held her there with her hand on the doorknob. Maybe if she didn’t answer he would think she had left with friends or something and give up. Her eye went to the peephole again just as he rang the doorbell once more then knocked on the door hard enough to make her jump.

Apparently he wasn’t going away.

Polly took a deep breath and opened the door. Her neighbor surprised her by offering her a friendly smile.

“Hi, Polly. I’m really sorry to bother you so late. It’s just that somebody hit my car while it was parked in front of my house this morning, so I’m checking around to see if anybody saw or heard anything.”

Icy fingers of fear slithered through her. “Sorry, Mr. Bennett, but I didn’t notice anything,” she stammered.

“That’s odd,” he said, tilting his head with a puzzled expression. “See, Dave—the guy in the house next to yours—set up a camera back when we had all those break-ins a couple of months ago. He checked and there were a couple of shots I thought you might be able to explain.”

He handed her two printed out photos that showed her backing into his car. Her license plate was legible in both, and in the second one she was clearly visible looking right at the camera. Cheese!

When she looked up from the pictures he wasn’t smiling anymore. Fear puddled cold and oily in the pit of her stomach as his eyes narrowed in anger.

“So do you have anything you’d like to say, any kind of miraculous excuse to exonerate you crashing into my car and then driving off without even having the courtesy to leave me a note?”

Polly swallowed hard and shook her head.

“I didn’t think so.”

Before she could stop him he stepped inside and pushed past her, slamming the door behind him.

“What are you—”

He shoved a handful of papers at her. “I had the damage appraised this afternoon. It’s going to cost about a thousand dollars to fix. I haven’t even put five hundred miles on that car yet, Polly. The new car smell hasn’t even started to fade and now it’s banged up. That really pisses me off. I’ve hardly gotten to enjoy it yet, but now every time I look at it I’m going to know that it’s not good as new anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

His lips parted in a grin full of malice. “You’re going to be sorrier. See, in this state what you did is classed as a hit and run. Since the damage to my car was over two hundred dollars it’s a class B misdemeanor. I printed out the statute from the attorney general’s web pages for you; take a look.”

With trembling fingers she sorted through the papers he had handed her until she found the right ones, then read along with a growing sense of despair as Josh continued his tirade.

“Six months in jail and a suspended license,” he informed her with icy satisfaction. “Oh, you probably won’t serve all six months, but they’re cracking down on this kind of thing so you’ll probably do ninety days.”

Ninety days in jail. She’d lose her job. Get thrown out of her house. She’d have to withdraw from her classes and that would push her graduation date back a full year. Her dad would dump her from his auto insurance when he found out, and it would cost a fortune to get her own with this on her record. She raised her gaze slowly to meet his, her eyes wide with horror.

“I’ll pay for the damage.”

He let out a little bark of laughter. “My insurance will pay for the damage. That’s why I have it. Of course they’ll get the money from your insurance. But it’s not about the money. You need to be taught a lesson.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“You’ve got to learn to take responsibility for your actions.”

She sank to her knees before him, blue eyes wide and pleading as she begged. “Please, Mr. Bennett. You don’t understand; I’ll lose everything. Please.”

* * *

It was seeing her on her knees begging him that did it. His cock stirred when those big, innocent blue eyes turned up to him glistening with unshed tears, and suddenly he realized he wasn’t nearly as interested in punishing her with jail. Josh had always thought she was the hottest girl on the block with those long legs, slender curves, and perfect grapefruit-sized tits. No, he could think of better ways to punish her, ways that would give him more personal satisfaction. Punishment could take many forms, and as he considered her still on her knees before him his cock went hard as a rock.

“Your popcorn is burning.”

“What?” She stared at him uncomprehending, as though he had spoken in Latin or something.

“I said your popcorn is burning.”

The smell finally hit her. “Oh, crap!” she muttered and darted for the kitchen.

While she dealt with that he took a seat on her couch, laced his fingers behind his head, and propped his feet up on her scuffed coffee table. Was it possible to be both the good cop and the bad cop at the same time? A fresh wave of the burned popcorn smell erupted from the kitchen then Polly came back, her eyes widening again at the sight of him on her sofa.

“So the way I see it,” he drawled, “you have two options. I go home and in the morning I call the police and file a report. Some time after that you get arrested and go to jail.”

She gulped. “And my second option?”

“You do your very, very best to persuade me to drop it.”

He saw her gaze flicker down to his crotch and her face went scarlet. Even though it was obvious that she already knew the answer she asked, “How do I do that?”

“Oh, I think you know, Polly.”

There was a long pause and she kept her eyes downcast, willing to look anywhere but at him.

“You won’t call the police?”

“I won’t call the police. I won’t even report you to my insurance company.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

He shrugged. “You’ll just have to trust me. You don’t really have any choice, do you?”

When he saw the two tears of shame glide down her cheeks he knew he had her.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, her voice very small.

Josh allowed himself a small, victorious smile and settled back into the couch cushions. “First I want you to take off your clothes. Strip for me. I want to see if that body is as amazing as I’ve dreamed.”

For a moment she hesitated and he thought she was going to refuse, but then she took a deep breath and in one swift motion tugged her gray t-shirt over her head. To Josh’s delight she was braless, and his pulse kicked up a notch as his eyes roved across her bare skin, from the smooth plane of her belly up to the perfect swell of her ripe tits. With her pale complexion, Polly’s slowly stiffening nipples reminded him of strawberries poking out of a dish of vanilla ice cream. He had every intention of finding out if she tasted as delicious as she looked.

Her hands went up in an automatic move to cover her exposed flesh, but she caught herself and lowered them again. Briefly she met his gaze, and then she bit her lip and looked away as her fingers gripped the waistband of her gray and pink plaid pajamas. With deliberate slowness she tugged them down past her hips to reveal her black panties then let them go to whisper down the silky length of her legs and fall in a pile around her bare feet. Polly’s tits rose as she took a deep breath to steady her nerve, her nipples hard and crinkled now, and she kicked the pajama bottoms next to her discarded t-shirt.