by Claire Adams
I was gazing out the window like that when I heard a light knock on the door. Turning around, I found Johanna standing there with that stupid smile on her face.
“Hey there, Marce,” she said. “How’s your first day back?”
“It’s Marcy, actually, and I’m having a fine day,” I answered, guarded. “How are you?”
“Oh jeez, thank you so much for asking. I’m doing all right. Look at that desk, so big and wooden and imposing. They didn’t make you haul that up here, yourself, did they?”
“Johanna, I’m sure you have other things to do,” I told her.
“I do, but I just wanted to come up here and congratulate you on being the only intern here to get a promotion without actually doing any work.”
“If I got a promotion, it’s news to me. They just asked me to work up here for a little—”
“Yeah, whatever,” she interrupted. “We all know you’re up here because your brother’s trying to protect you from the sad, cruel world of doing things.”
I wanted to indent her smile with the first and second knuckles of my right hand, but I did recall something in the training video about not physically assaulting coworkers. “Are you done? I have work to do.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that executive break room is just dying to be reorganized. Are you doing the whole thing Feng Shui, or are you going for more of a Martha Stewart thing?”
“Listen, you little snake. I don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing right now, but I know bothering me isn’t part of your job description, so why don’t you make like a good little coffee transportation specialist and get the hell out of my office?”
I glanced at the clock past Johanna, through the open door. Dean and I were going to have lunch together; and by lunch, of course, I mean a quickie in his office while everyone’s on break. He was actually supposed to meet me at my office right—
“Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting,” Dean said, peeking through the door and visibly startling Johanna in the process.
“Mr. Carrick,” she said, deeply blushing in a way that made me feel superior in a way I’d never felt toward anyone. “I’m so sorry for standing in your way. Of course you’re not interrupting.”
Dean said, “Great. Now, Miss—”
“I wonder, though,” Johanna started.
Whatever she was doing, it was going to be really, really stupid.
“Yes?” Dean responded.
“Well, I know this is so far beneath you it’s like a speck of dust on an ant farm,” I yearned for her to notice how far I rolled my eyes when she said that, “but I was wondering what you think about coworkers getting along and treating each other with respect in the workplace.”
Dean hesitantly answered, “What do you mean? Are you—”
“It seems Miss Blair has some issue with me, and some of her comments are making me very uncomfortable. Marcy,” the creature said, turning toward me, her eyebrows all up and pulled together in the middle, “I’m sorry to do this, but I just can’t keep going on the way we have been. I don’t know what your issue is with me, but—”
“Miss…” Dean started. Behind my desk, I did everything in my power to hide the amusement which came from him trying but failing to remember Johanna’s last name.
Johanna leaned forward, her lips parted in an obvious dilemma. Finally, she said, “It’s O'Siodhachain.” She looked at me for some reason while she added, “It’s Gaelic. It means peaceful.”
“Miss…O’Sodahatching,” Dean started, “I will speak to Miss Blair personally. It would probably be best for the two of you to keep your distance from one another until the matter is fully resolved. Miss Blair,” he said, half-smiling, “would you come with me, please? We need to talk.”
Johanna crossed her arms and didn’t bother hiding her smirk as I got out of my chair and walked around to the front of the desk. She thought he was going to take me into his office and chastise me. I hoped that was still the plan, too, but I imagine Johanna and I had different ideas of how that would play out.
She gave me a wide berth as I approached the doorway. She walked off toward the elevators and Dean and I made our way toward his office. His assistant was just gathering her things to leave for lunch, but she stopped before putting her purse on her shoulder, asking, “I was about to head to lunch, was there anything you needed before I go?”
“No thank you, Camille,” Dean answered. “If I’m still in there when you get back from lunch, just hold my calls and appointments, will you? There are some things I have to take care of, and nothing else can happen until I do.”
“Of course, Mr. Carrick,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and make sure you’re not disturbed?”
“No, I think people know to leave me alone when you’re not around, Camille,” he said. “Have a good lunch.”
She put her purse on her shoulder, gave me a polite smile, and went on her way.
“So, picking fights with the interns, huh?” Dean asked me when Camille was suitably out of earshot. “I gotta tell you, that sounds like it could backfire on you.”
“It wasn’t my idea. That woman has been gunning for me for a while, though.”
“You know I don’t like unrest in my company. It sounds to me like we might have to figure out some sort of punishment.”
My heart fluttered in my chest, but at the same time, his face was stern, emotionless. “Yes, Mr. Carrick,” I responded. Whether he was actually going to chastise me for getting into it with Johanna, or he was warming up some disciplinarian dirty talk, mine seemed an appropriate response.
He opened his office door and reached his hand out toward me. I took it, and we walked into the office together. I looked back over the executive floor, but anyone who wasn’t at lunch must have been in their offices. No one was on the floor. No one, that is, except Johanna. I almost didn’t spot her across the vast room, past all those desks, and half-hidden by the corner she was using as cover.
My brother had told me a long time ago there are just some people who were put together to undercut others. He told me that that’s just part of being in the business world, where selfishness is virtue, and only the strong survive. He said the drawback was that kind of working environment tended to favor the conscienceless.
On more than one occasion, he referred to the office as the “Psychotics’ Amusement Park.” It was like he had a speech prepared the way he went on about how I needed to “watch my back” and “trust no one.”
Well, I couldn’t remember ever having trusted Johanna, and I wasn’t about to start. I didn’t let myself get carried away enough to think I was untouchable, but that same feeling of superiority came over me as I walked into the office after Dean. Johanna was far enough away, I couldn’t quite pinpoint the expression on her face, but it didn’t look like a happy or pleasant one.
Good, I thought, and closed the door behind me. After all, I had the CEO and founder on my side.
Once we were in the office, I stopped thinking so much about Johanna. In fact, I didn’t have time to think about much of anything before Dean was telling me, “Over by the desk.”
“Yes, Mr. Carrick,” I said.
I walked up to the desk and turned around, leaning against it and awaiting my next instruction. “What’s going on with Johanna?” he asked.
“She’s just trying to spear my career,” I answered. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”
“Uh huh,” he said, dismissively looking out the window while I gazed intently on him. “Turn around, put your hands on the desk.”
“Yes, Mr. Carrick,” I responded, and followed his order. That night when we were pulling each other’s hair and I was egging him on to spank me ever harder, it was like a door opened for both of us. It wasn’t a Fifty Shades kind of thing. I’d never seen the appeal of being on the worse end of an abusive relationship. By contrast, BDSM never hurt anyone. The previous statement may not be entirely accur
ate.
“Keep your hands where they are and take a step back with both feet.”
“Yes, Mr. Carrick.” I did as I was told.
“You’re already enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked, walking up behind me. “Be honest.”
“Yes,” I answered. It was great catharsis.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Mr. Carrick,” I said.
“Good,” he said, pulling my skirt up and bunching it around my waist, exposing my ass, only minimally covered by the black thong I put on that morning for the occasion. “That’s kind of the point after all.” His hand came down against the bare skin of my backside, causing me to jerk forward a little. My fingers curled on their own as I took a sharp breath.
“Easy there,” I said. “I still have to sit the rest of the day.”
“I don’t remember a whole lot of back talk in the movies,” he said.
“Yes, Mr. Carrick,” I said. I kept my eyes forward, but out of my periphery, I could see him in the process of cocking his arm back to deliver another open hand, but I wanted something else from him in that moment. “Although…” I said before he let fly.
He sighed. “This was your idea, you know.”
“Well, I just don’t want movies that don’t take either of our personal needs or desires into account to dictate the way we interact with each other,” I told him.
“Fine, whatever,” he said and started bringing his hand back again.
“You know, maybe we should pick a safe word,” I told him. “I read that’s pretty important. As part of the role play, I might want to say ‘no’ just to add to the experience, but not want you to actually stop. I hear that’s a thing.”
“So, we’re not going off of movies, but we are going off of stuff you read and heard?” he asked. “Don’t you think we could have gone over all this before we were actually in here?”
He didn’t get what I was trying to do yet, but he would soon enough. I just needed to sell it.
“Well,” I said, turning my head to look at him while simultaneously giving a light booty shake just to see which he’d look at first, “movies are meant primarily for entertainment. Books and articles can often be very helpful and informative.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Do you?” I hoped he did. I was almost out of tangents. “What about these walls, the door? I mean, I know we’ve got the floor mostly to ourselves, but you’ve got to know not everyone leaves their desk for lunch.”
“I had my office soundproofed years ago after I got into it with a competitor. Someone on the floor overheard the two of us shouting at each other and leaked it to the press. Both companies took a hit in the market.”
“So are you just going to talk, or are you—”
“I’ve done some reading, too,” he said. “You’re what they call a Sam.”
He knew exactly what I was doing. I’d noticed he seemed to get a little more into things when I frustrated him a little. Otherwise, he tended to be too nice, too gentle. I’m not saying I was planning to make a complete lifestyle change, but everyone needs a decent role-play every now and again. “Actually, it’s Marcy,” I corrected.
He took a couple of steps until he was directly behind me. “You are just asking for it today, aren’t you?” he asked. His chuckle broke him out of character a little, but when that second warm, open hand stung the bare skin of my ass, I felt the wetness grow between my legs.
I wasn’t into bondage. I had nothing against people who did; it was just never my thing. If he’d gone too far with the domination, the spanking, or anything else, that would have been too much, too.
Injecting that extra power dynamic into our sex life, though, it had its perks. For one thing, I didn’t feel completely helpless. It may have been artificial, but despite what it may look to someone on the outside, I held a lot of power there.
Between my thighs, the thin triangle of fabric was sopping wet by the time I felt Dean’s hand lightly moving over my bare skin. His feathery touch brought the goosebumps across my skin, and I took in a long, deep breath. A moment later, I heard a snipping sound, and then another, and my thong dropped to the floor. I probably shouldn’t have worn the expensive thong, but I hadn’t anticipated the move.
“You’re going to pay for that, you know,” I told him.
“Yeah, I think I can afford it,” he said. I could hear him unzipping his pants, and my core tingled with anticipation. He slid his hand up the back of my blouse and unfastened my bra before slipping his hand back out again to push the bottom of my blouse up until it was just beneath my breasts. He ran two fingers over my waiting pussy and before I knew it, he was sliding himself inside of me.
His hands closed around my hips before he slid them both up the front of my blouse, cupping one of my breasts in each of his hands. His fingers tightened almost to the point of too hard before he relaxed his grip again and pushed himself deeper inside me. He’d learned so fast how much was pleasurable and how much would be painful and he always stayed on the gentler side of the line.
“Uh oh,” I said.
“What?” he responded, stopping about halfway inside me.
“I think I forgot to clock out for lunch.”
He tried to hide it, but I could feel his stifled laughter from the tightening muscles of his lower abdomen. Dean pushed himself into me hard and fast, and held himself there, so deep. Leaning forward, he wrapped the fingers of his left hand around my left wrist and he guided my arm back until it was behind my back and with his free hand, he was pressing down on my back, up between my shoulders until my upper body was firmly pressed against his desk.
“Is this what you want?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Carrick,” I said.
He removed his hand from my back and spanked me, saying, “Good.”
I could feel my own hot breath coming back against my face as I continued to rest my upper body on the desk. Dean released my arm. Telling me to stay as I was, he hooked the bottom of my blouse with his thumbs, one on each side of me, and he pulled it up until my breasts spilled out onto the desk. My nipples puckered against the cold, Gabon ebony of his desk.
I’d been looking forward to this all day. Because I was looking forward to it all day, I was thinking about it all day. Because I was thinking about it all day, I was also fantasizing about it all day, and because of all that sexual energy kept for hours just below the boiling point, I started to feel that heat rising throughout my body. I planned on telling him how close I was, but my knees started to buckle beneath me and I was sweating.
My hair was sticking to my face, and I could hardly comprehend the magnitude of the pleasure coursing through me as Dean kept pushing harder and faster into me. I knew he’d said the office was soundproof, but I still worked a thick lock of hair between my teeth to bite down on as I shuddered in ecstasy. I was starting to learn that denial was a useful approach to coping with the fact I’d worked my way right into the line of fire.
Chapter Fifteen
Pink Clouds and Lightning
Dean had to be at work earlier than usual the next day, so that meant I had to be at work early, too. It wasn’t that much of a change from when I used to ride in with Luke, but my nerves were raw.
I hadn’t slept. The tryst in Dean’s office had been empowering in a way, and had definitely served as a great distraction. The feeling didn’t last, though, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore reality. I wasn’t going to be able to sit in that ivory tower forever.
We were still trying to keep our relationship discreet, at least at work. Neither one of us wanted to be on the wrong side of an interoffice scandal.
That was the plan, anyway. The reality was that even though Dean and I walked into the building separately, spaced about five minutes apart, the first thing anyone said to me when I got off the elevator on the executive floor was, “Is it true you’re sleeping with Dean Carrick?”
I could feel a growing heat in my face and chest. I barel
y knew the woman asking the question. I knew her name was Toni and that she had an office on the floor, but I’d never spoken to her. “What?” I asked. “Where did you hear that?”
“Is it true?” she asked.
My mouth came open, and I didn’t know whether to shake my head or nod. Finally, I was looking down, hoping I could somehow dodge the bullet by dodging her gaze, and the words came. “Toni, look at me. Do you think I’m sleeping with the handsome billionaire who runs the company I don’t get paid to work for?”
That was the first time in my life I was outright glad for the prejudice that comes a person’s way when they’re big. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot,” she said. “It’s just, you hear things and you never know whether someone’s telling the truth, or if it’s just a power play or something, or—”
“It’s always a power play if it’s coming from Johanna,” I answered without thinking. “I’ve got to get to my office.”
My strategy wasn’t going to work and I knew it. Toni may have bought the nonsense about how rich and powerful men could “never” be attracted to a woman packing a few extra curves, but everyone was looking at me and not even bothering to whisper or cover their mouths when they said, “Yeah, with Dean Carrick,” and “Can you imagine the two of them? What is he thinking?” That last one took any remnant of wind from my sails.
I needed to talk to Luke. He’d been largely incommunicado since I’d started staying with Dean, but if anyone knew what I should do, it was my brother. This was my last ditch attempt to rein in my emotions before I tracked Johanna down and did something I knew I’d regret. I had no intention of mentioning her name to my brother. It would hardly be a solution to become the office rat. I just wanted someone to talk me out of beating Johanna's stupid skinny head in.
Strangely, though, Luke wasn’t in yet. I asked Marika if she’d seen him, but she said she’d just gotten to the office, herself.
