by Lola Gabriel
Marcus filled her impossibly, deeper than anyone had ever reached, and Addison cried out as if it was the first time. Every time he took her, she was dumbfounded by the incredible girth of his member, his fullness knocking the wind from her as he methodically rubbed his hips against her ass.
His sack slapped against her, and Addison’s palms splayed against the pane, a combination of nervousness and desire overtaking her.
Someone is going to walk out and see me pinned to this window, she thought. However, it seemed less important than the new climax building inside her as Marcus’ skillful fingers continued to manipulate her clit, his thrusts growing harder. Addison clenched at his shaft, and he grunted, his breath hot in her ear.
Marcus’ hand covered hers as he plunged deeper inside her almost violently, and the glass wall trembled as Addison’s knees buckled. Her sighs became cries, his moans mounting into groans.
Addison screamed out, a flash of hot spreading through her body again, and Marcus released a deep shudder, spilling into her in unison.
Addison’s eyes darted upward as she saw movement in her peripheral vision. A flash of dark hair ducked away, but not before she recognized it as Melissa’s. She tensed instantly, realizing that the assistant had been watching them.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked as Addison ducked out from under him. He slipped out of her and she hurriedly adjusted her clothes, humiliation burning her cheeks.
“Melissa was watching us,” she murmured. “I just saw her.”
Marcus studied her, his expression nonchalant. “Does that bother you?”
She didn’t answer, shifting her eyes away from Marcus. The situation clearly didn’t bother him. Was Addison overreacting to this whole thing? She was in a new environment, after all. The penthouse, the job…
And suddenly, I am face-to-face with Marcus’ other women, whereas I never was before, Addison thought to herself. I’m just overwhelmed. Things are going to be different. Better, but different nonetheless. She forced a smile on her face and shook her head.
“I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this,” she explained. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”
Marcus continued to watch her, slowly dressing as he did. “If this makes you unhappy, we can make some changes. You only need to say the word, Addy. I want you to be content in your life. I find that when you are happy, it benefits us both.”
Addison met his gaze and saw that he was genuine. He really did care about her. They didn’t have a traditional relationship, but it was what they had.
“I’m very happy,” she assured him. “Don’t worry about me.”
Marcus smiled, striding toward her. “You are like spring rain,” he said. “You make everything fresh and sparkling when you arrive.”
She giggled at the silliness of his words, but she could not help feeling a flash of warmth wash through her. He makes me feel like a lovesick teenager. I know this can’t last forever, but it’s so much fun right now.
Marcus kissed her mouth softly, and she could taste herself on his lips.
“You should get back to work,” he told her, and Addison nodded, glancing around the office to see if she had forgotten anything. “Your shoes?” Marcus called after her as she turned to leave.
Addison blushed furiously, whirling back to recover her high-heels. Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek and scurried off to find Melissa, her heart thudding anxiously. She wondered what the woman was going to say about what she had witnessed.
It was almost lunchtime when Addison finally found Melissa again. She had searched all the executive floors, but it was as if the brunette had disappeared into thin air. Addison grew increasingly paranoid as she searched, wondering if she had somehow jeopardized her job.
That’s ridiculous. Marcus is your boss, she reminded herself. Melissa can’t fire you. The thought, rather than alleviate her worries, made Addison even more uncomfortable. I’m sleeping with my boss. Very openly.
She wondered how she would react if she saw what Melissa had witnessed at some point.
Addison didn’t want to think about it. Melissa had given her very little in the way of instruction. The minimal time they had spent together had mostly been a tour, with a peek at the appointment schedule. Addison had no idea what she was going to be doing day to day, and she didn’t want to go back to ask Marcus for direction. She didn’t need him holding her hand when he had already given her a great job and an amazing place to live. She would find Melissa and figure out exactly what she was supposed to be doing here.
After almost two hours, though, Addison was ready to give up, and she ventured into the staff room for a coffee.
To her shock, she saw Melissa and two other women lounging in the room, smoking cigarettes and laughing raucously.
“There you are!” Addison cried, a combination of surprise and indignation filling her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She lightly coughed as she entered the smoke-filled room, feeling like she had walked into a sixties movie set.
“Last time I saw you, you could barely see at all,” Melissa quipped. “What do you need?”
Addison stared at the other women, their expressions an almost identical shade of bemusement as they studied her.
“Are—you can smoke in here?” she heard herself ask. The group of women exploded into laughter, as if she had told them a great joke.
“You’re among the elite now, sweetie,” one of them chuckled. “You can do whatever you want.”
“Well, almost anything, Tavia,” her companion corrected. “You heard what happened to Lis today.”
There was a short silence, and then Melissa laughed again.
“Some of us have to learn the hard way, I suppose,” she chirped. “Do you want a cigarette, Addison?”
Addison quickly shook her head. “I don’t smoke,” she said. “I was just… surprised you were able to smoke in here.”
The women eyed her.
“What do you need, Addison?” Melissa repeated, extinguishing the butt in a nearby ashtray, her voice frigid.
“I’m just wondering what I should be doing,” Addison said.
“Doing?” Melissa echoed. “What do you mean?” It was Addison’s turn to be confused.
“What is my job exactly?” she replied patiently. “You didn’t show me too much before…” She trailed off, her face crimson as she remembered what had interrupted their training.
Another silence ensued. Suddenly, everyone burst into renewed peals of laughter, like they were in a comedy club and Addison was a performer.
“Oh!” the woman called Tavia gasped between snorts of hilarity. “You are green as a spring field, aren’t you?”
“How long have you been with Marcus, hon?” the woman with no name asked, and Addison felt a fission of annoyance coursing through her.
“We’ve been dating—” she started to say, and there was another round of chortles, cutting her off in mid-sentence.
“Dating?” Melissa chuckled, interrupting her. “Oh, honey, Marcus doesn’t ‘date.’ Don’t you know that by now?”
Anger replaced Addison’s irritation. She didn’t want to explain her relationship with Marcus, not while they were at work. She would be naïve not to understand the undertones pulsating through the room. Obviously, Marcus had his own dealings with some of her co-workers, but it was none of her concern.
“We’ve been together,” Addison tried again, “for a year.” Abruptly, there was a shift in the atmosphere, and all three women leaned forward with interest.
“A year?” Melissa echoed. “One year?”
A flicker of apprehension shivered up Addison’s spine, but she held her ground, meeting Melissa’s gaze.
“I would really rather not bring my personal life into the office,” she said shortly. “Could you please just tell me what I’m supposed to be doing? I would prefer not to ask Marcus what I need to do around here.”
The women sitting inhaled sharply, as if Addison had release
d a string of swearwords. Judging by the expression on Melissa’s face, she had struck a nerve.
“Honey, you don’t have a personal life,” Melissa snarled. “Your life is Marcus’ now. He owns you and me and everyone else in this place. So, if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer me, understood?”
Addison’s spine became a rod of steel, and despite her racing heart, she folded her arms over her chest. No aspect of her relationship with Marcus made her feel like her life wasn’t her own, and she couldn’t see how any of them could possibly believe that Marcus owned them, as though they were his property.
Addison was no one’s property. She was with Marcus of her own free will, and he had made it very clear that she could walk away whenever she wanted to.
“No!” she retorted. “I don’t understand your fascination with Marcus’ lovers. Didn’t you get enough watching us today? Should I record it next time?”
Jaws dropped in unison, and Addison turned to leave the smoke-filled room without waiting for a reply. It was clear she had not made a friend in Melissa.
There has to be someone else who can train me around here, she thought, gritting her teeth. The last thing she wanted was for Marcus to suspect she was causing rifts among the other women. He hates drama, and he’s busy enough without this cattiness. I will figure this out without him.
“Addison?” She turned and watched as the redhead from the breakroom barreled after her down the hall, her face flushed. Addison gazed warily at her. “Your name is Addison, right?” she asked as she approached, her grey eyes glittering.
“Yep.”
The redhead’s smile widened. What was her name? Tavia?
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she told Addison. “I’m not a threat to you.”
Addison snorted. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to answer your question,” she replied evenly. “Since Missy already hates you.”
“My question?”
“You asked what your job is around here,” Tavia explains. “What you should be doing?” Addison nodded slowly. The woman chortled mirthlessly. “Your job is to look busy while doing nothing. Technically, you’re an assistant, but God knows Missy won’t let you handle anything of any importance, so you’ll essentially be a gopher for her and Marcus, I guess.”
Addison’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A gopher?” she repeated, thinking about how much her annual salary was going to be.
“Yeah. You ‘go for this’ or ‘go for that,’” the woman said, and Addison nodded impatiently.
“I know what a gopher is,” she said crossly, but she didn’t know who she was mad at, exactly.
There is no way I am making that much money to fetch coffee, she thought, not trusting the impish-faced woman. She’s trying to sabotage me here, too. I wonder if Marcus has any idea how jealous his harem can be.
Yet at the same time, she had a sinking feeling she was being told the truth.
Tavia laughed. “You don’t believe me,” she said. “That’s okay, you’ll see. Your job is doing nothing, just like the rest of us. The only one who has any real work is Melissa, and she’s supposed to be sharing the load with you, but she clearly won’t. Get used to making triple espressos and double lattes.”
Addison swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
“Why?” she asked dubiously. “Why would he pay us to do nothing?”
“You really haven’t been around very long, have you?” the woman asked in response. “A year, really?” Addison’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. “Most of us take two years before he brings us into the office. I don’t think anyone has gotten in here this fast. Just wait until you get an apartment.”
Addison found herself growing slightly light-headed.
“I have one,” she murmured, her mind swimming. “At Queen and King.”
Her new companion was stunned, her fair face almost opaque.
“You got Cosima’s place?” Tavia choked. “The penthouse?”
Addison nodded, and the woman released a low whistle. “If you thought Missy hated you before, wait until she hears about this…”
“How long have you been here?” Addison asked, consternation filling her words.
“Three years,” Tavia said. “I’m a ‘receptionist.’” She used air quotations, a smirk on her lips.
“And you don’t care about any of this? That I am moving up faster than the others?”
Addison felt slightly nauseous discussing the inanity of the scenario out loud, but it was the first time she had ever spoken so freely to anyone about her relationship with Marcus. In a strange way, she felt relieved.
Tavia shrugged flippantly.
“I’m Quebecois,” she replied, chuckling. “I have French blood coursing through me. I know a good thing when I see it, and I don’t have a jealous bone in my body. These other women—their jealousy eventually gets the best of them, and they believe they can change Marcus when they fall in love with him. It’s inevitable. Even though he makes it crystal clear at the start, they forget themselves, and they end up in the cold with nothing.”
Addison stared at her, wondering how much of what she said she actually believed. She could read no guile in Tavia’s face, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She might just be a good actress.
This newfound suspicion was unnerving. It was not in Addison’s nature to be so skeptical.
“Anyway, I just thought I would offer you a friendly piece of advice,” Tavia continued, glancing over her shoulder to see if they might be overheard.
“What’s that?” Addison asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
“Two pieces, actually,” Tavia corrected herself. “First, if you fall in love with Marcus, keep it to yourself. He will never change, not for you, not for me, not for anyone. The faster you understand that, the happier you will be. Enjoy the life he will provide for you, as long as you remember your place.”
Addison lowered her eyes, unsure of how to process the words.
“The second thing is likely more important than the first one.” She raised her head again and looked at Tavia expectantly. The girl leaned in, her breath in Addison’s ear. “Do not get on Missy’s bad side. Kiss her ass, shine her shoes, feed her grapes if need be, but do not let her think you are going to be a problem.”
Addison drew back and peered at Tavia, scoffing. “Melissa is not the most threatening person I’ve ever met,” she replied. She was from the roughest area of Toronto. Tavia was going to have to throw something scarier than Melissa her way.
Tavia smiled sardonically. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She turned away to leave, but curiosity got the best of Addison, and she called out after the woman’s retreating form. The ginger-haired girl spun around. “Yes?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why is she so dangerous?”
Tavia’s smile froze, and she covered the space between them in three strides, her mouth becoming a grimace. “Keep your damned voice down!” she snapped.
Addison gaped at her, realizing that Tavia was genuinely concerned about Melissa. “Why? What has she done?”
Tavia pulled her back into a smaller hallway, casting one last look over her shoulder before leaning in to whisper again. “I have no proof, but girls have just disappeared, ones who Marcus has liked better than others.”
Addison snickered. “So what? Marcus lost interest. You said so yourself.”
A frigid smile formed on Tavia’s lips. “The penthouse you’re in is the most coveted apartment Marcus has for us. He only puts his favorites there. The last three women who’ve been there worked beside Melissa and suddenly vanished without a trace. Between you and me, I think Missy has been expecting a place there for several years.”
Addison stepped away from Tavia, rolling her green eyes.
“I think you’re looking for problems where there are none,” she replied flatly.
Again, Tavia shrugged. “Don’t say
I didn’t warn you,” she repeated, spinning to saunter away.
Addison stared after her, her mind awhirl as she went over the events of the day.
In two days, I have been swept away by my Prince Charming into the lap of luxury, she thought. I am living a life that any woman would give her right arm to live. But if I want to sustain it, I can’t expect commitment, nor can I fall in love. I have no real job and I may or may not have a target on my back.
Addison fell back against the wall and willed herself to breathe normally.
Every fairy tale has a villain, she reminded herself. But there’s always a happily ever after… isn’t there?
5
“Aren’t you coming to bed?”
Marcus turned his head slightly, eye still fixated on the computer screen.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he promised, barely noticing as Tavia slunk to his side, her pale, white hands reaching to massage his shoulders.
“You are so tense,” she murmured, working at the knots in his neck as he continued to scroll through the documents Rodney Henderson had emailed two hours earlier.
“Go back to bed,” Marcus ordered. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
“But baby—”
He whipped his head around and gazed at her, his blue eyes piercing into hers. “Why are you arguing with me?” he snarled. “I’m in the middle of something here and I don’t want you breathing down my neck.”
Hurt covered her pale face, and Marcus almost apologized, but he caught himself. She knew better than to be reading over his shoulder when trade secrets were at risk. He shouldn’t even be looking at those documents here.
None of what he was reading made a great deal of sense, and he wondered if he was tired or if he was growing stupid in his old age.
You’re hundreds of years old. Maybe it’s time to retire, he thought wryly, sitting back to rub his eyes.
“Tavia?” he called.
Instantly, she reappeared. “Yes, hon?”
“Make me a triple espresso,” he told her, and she nodded eagerly.
“Of course.” As she sashayed to the kitchen, Marcus found himself staring after her, a too-short robe barely covering her full rear. They had made love earlier, but his mind had not been in it, and he wasn’t even certain she had climaxed. He wasn’t convinced he had, either.
