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“Quise. Harder,” she whines. I can feel her hand as it starts to move between her legs, where she is rubbing her clit racing towards the finish line, and that in itself sends me racing towards my own ending.
“Come, Goddess. Fucking COME!” I call out, shooting my baby juice inside of her and praying it takes, tying her to me forever. Still pissed, I pull out and walk away grabbing a napkin to clean up.
“Did I do something wrong?” Her voice unsure.
“What the fuck was that out there with my brothers? All the laughing and shit. You were so...different...with them. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO FEEL?” I sweep everything off my desk, the emotions are too much for me to contain.
“What do you mean Marquise? I didn’t do anything or have to be anything for them, like a sex Goddess or some intelligent employee. I don’t have to pretend that I am not some white trash homeless chick. They know nothing about me, Marquise. I can just be...ME!” Well shit.
“Is that what you think? That somehow you OWE me something? Baby, that couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, there is only one person here who owes the other anything...I owe you. You saved me, Chrissy. You saved me.” I pull her into my arms and hold her. She lays her head on my chest, and I feel the drip of her tears as they stain my shirt. “I’m sorry I lost it, Goddess. Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“I don’t like it when we fight, baby.”
“Me either. Let’s not do it.”
“Deal, Goddess. How about we tell each other when one of us is feeling any type of way that is out of the normal. Not hold it in.”
“Good idea. Mmm… Can I stay like this, in your arms for the rest of the day?” She snuggles further into me.
“Always, baby. Always.” I need her there more than she will ever know.Chapter FourteenChrissyFour Days LaterDay TwelveThank God it’s Friday. I don’t know how I made it through the week, but there are only a few short hours left in the workday and I am counting down the minutes until we can go home.
Home.
That’s the first time I’ve thought of his place as home, but that’s exactly what it is. It’s only been twelve days, but I know that I’ll never willingly leave him. He’ll have to insist and make me leave. He’s the best man I’ve ever known, and that’s not something I’ll take for granted.
I still feel self-conscious about the work I am doing for Marquise, but since I haven’t screwed up anything, yet it must be going Okay. Truthfully, the job entails a lot of answering the phone and determining which emails he actually needs to answer. I also sort his mail and take coffee to him. Taking him the coffee usually turns to sex, so I try to take him a fresh hot cup every couple of hours. I am greedy for him and I don’t care. He’s it for me. I know for a fucking fact that I’ll never be with another man. He’s ruined me.
After lunch, I am going through the mail that came while we were out, and Marquise is on a conference call that is scheduled to last a couple of hours. The way the room is designed where my desk’s location is there are a total of four desks in front of four doors. Each door is an office for one of the Roades brothers. The design lets you see the entire room, including the elevators. The ding of it arriving on the floor goes off all day and I’ve gotten used to it, so I am startled when I hear someone talking to me. Looking up, I gasp at an older man, who is dressed nicely and standing in front of my desk. He could be my grandfather and he definitely has that pop-pop look about him.
“Sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to startle you. You must be new here,” he says.
“Yes, sir. This is my first week. I’m Chrissy. How can I help you? Do you have an appointment?” I ask looking at the calendar on my desk.
“I do. But it won’t be on there, dear. I have a standing appointment with Marquise every Friday at two.” I look at the clock on my computer and see that it’s one fifty-nine. He’s a prompt man.
“I’m sorry. He’s on a conference call at the moment. Please have a seat,” I say, gesturing to the chair next to my desk. “I am sure he won’t be much longer.”
“Very good,” he says taking a seat. He places his hat on my desk and crosses his leg.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask, standing.
“Water would be great,” he says.
“Of course,” I say walking into the break area where the coffee pots and refrigerator are. I grab him a bottle of Fiji water and myself yet another cup of coffee before heading back to my desk.
