Corrupt Practices

by Penelope L'Amoreaux

  In an instant, Dallas was inside, his huge cock stretching her. He took her hard, pounding relentlessly, pushing her forward as her knees and elbows screamed from rubbing on the rug. The pain only intensified her pleasure and she cried out.

  When Mariel struggled to support herself and began pushing back, matching his thrusts, Dallas grabbed her hair with one hand, yanking her head back. Her throat was tight and she screamed, loving the erotic pull of the ends of her hair, her scalp stinging in protest even as another orgasm, this one deep inside of her, began to swell.

  His other hand left her hip briefly. Mariel felt an unexpected slap on her ass. He was spanking her while fucking her. She had never been spanked. Hell, she had never been fucked. None of her encounters had been like this, and she wondered how she had ever gone so long without knowing what a dominant and rough lover could be like.

  The cheeks of her ass burned as slap after slap rained down on them. He wasn’t holding back--the sensations were more overwhelming than she had expected. When people had joked about spanking during sex, she had imagined tiny slaps and giggles. These were skin-rippling, singing-pain hits that were timed just right with the hard thrust of his cock. She felt filled by him, surrounded by him, every nerve and cell shimmering and exalting in Dallas. Her orgasm continued to grow, the heat in her core and belly beginning to let its tendrils out, her body and clit aching for release.

  That was when he released her hair and reached around, between her legs. All it took was one brush of his fingers on her aching clit.

  Mariel detonated, convulsing and mewling as she came. Dallas continued to piston into her until he gripped her hips, pulled out and spurted his hot seed on to her bare ass.

  Unable to support herself, she sank on the carpet. Her body felt like someone else’s, heavy and satisfied. She knew that she could move but wasn’t sure she’d ever want to.

  “Dallas…” she whispered, needing him to touch her, to let her know that what they had just shared felt as real and raw for him as it did for her.

  Instead, he stood, her body immediately feeling his absence. He waited a moment, hovering over her, before muttering, “I’ll go get the guest room ready.”

  The floor opened and swallowed her up, shame infusing every cell in her body. She watched him go, padding past her and down the hall. Hurt, primal and hot, surged through her. If she had felt languid before, she was ready to run a marathon now.

  With a quickness that shocked her, Mariel stood and rushed back to where her dress was. She yanked it on, not bothering to clean herself first. She’d have to find the money to have it dry-cleaned either way and Paige was her last concern at the moment.

  Mariel had to get out. Before the hurt overwhelmed her. Before he could see her cry again.

  She took off her heels to silence her escape. When her hand touched the knob of his apartment, though, she heard him. “Where are you going?”

  She couldn’t look at him, her gaze glued to the knob in her hand. “Home.”

  “You can stay here. It’s okay.”

  Inhaling deeply, she risked a peek at him over her shoulder. “No, I can’t. It… it isn’t okay to put the woman you just fucked in a guest bedroom. I might be an ‘eager beaver,’ but I’m not an idiot, either.”

  With the last bit of her resolve she jerked the door open. Just before it slammed behind her, she heard something that might have been a plea.

  “Mariel—“

  But she was already out the door and the tears had begun to fall.

  Chapter Seven

  The cab ride home was quiet. Mariel shivered against the worn leather seats of the car while her driver listened quietly to some sports commentary.

  I’m an idiot.

  Sleeping with Dallas was a mistake no matter what. She choked back a laugh.

  What a cliché, an intern sleeping with her boss.

  She had never felt so cheap in her life. That was saying something. In college, she had run out of student funding before the year was over. Grants covered her tuition, but they only went so far. Because she was taking more than a standard load of classes, there had been no time to find a part-time job. Her school work was too demanding. That hadn’t stopped the bills from coming.

  Mariel had done something she wasn’t proud of. She had looked in the local paper and found a man paying for “artistic” nude photos. There had been nothing artsy about them. For half a day she had shivered, naked, with another woman. He had coached them into very provocative poses, touching each other, even kissing each other at times. As his camera had clicked and snapped away, she hadn’t been able to avoid seeing the erection straining at his pants.

  She had made enough in three more sessions of photos to pay her bills for the rest of the semester. Mariel had prayed she would never see those photos again, nor feel as cheap and used. Tonight felt worse. Part of her anger and hurt stemmed from just how good it had felt to be with Dallas. She was angry at her body, feeling like it had betrayed her.

  Your body wasn’t the only thing that enjoyed tonight.

  Damn it, she knew it was true, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Her heart had felt open, triumphant as Dallas had kissed her. Mariel hadn’t needed anyone when she pulled herself out of poverty. It had been her efforts, each difficult step of the way, to earn where she was today. Having someone who had seemed so determined to shut her down suddenly want her had felt like a victory. He was out of her league, but she had allowed herself some hope that he might have actually liked her.

  These thoughts brought a fresh round of tears as she considered that it wasn’t just the victory. It was that she had wanted Dallas, too.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Mariel wasn’t sure she could even show up to work the next day. She’d never be able to look at Dallas in the face again. It had taken a lot of courage to try and stand up to him and his burning, domineering personality time and time again. He had dropped her to her knees and fucked that courage out of her.

  She wasn’t one to feel sorry for herself often, but when she did, she managed to feel guilt over everything. Her mind was a torrent of memories and emotions. The scandalous photos. Her mother, worried about her moving to Washington so soon. Dallas’s sneer. The way he had maneuvered her so easily, had controlled her body’s reactions as he took her. His warning: sink or swim.

  Maybe she hadn’t been ready. Most advisors had told her to stay local for a while. Work in a small municipal office. Get some years under her belt before going to a big city and working for a senator.

  Her mother, proud as she had been, had also been afraid of failure for Mariel.

  Maybe they had all been right. Maybe determination and self-reliance just weren’t enough to succeed.

  As the cab pulled up to her apartment, Mariel remembered what she was coming home to. It wasn’t the posh apartments of affluent people like Paige and Dallas. It was a filthy, probably-should-be-condemned hovel. The money she used to pay the cabby was going to mean she would eat ramen for a week. If she stayed. If she returned to work.

  As she listened to the tires peel away, leaving her alone in the street, Mariel knew the true despair of failure for the first time in her life.

  * * * *

  She called out of work the next morning. It was the first time she could remember calling out sick without actually being sick. Maybe she would have felt more guilty, but she truly did think she would throw up if she had to face Dallas again.

  Instead, Mariel took the morning to pack her meager possessions. She hadn’t told her landlord yet that she was leaving, but it wasn’t really the sort of establishment where she was concerned over giving sixty day’s notice.

  Mariel took Paige’s dress and had it dry cleaned. While she was out, her cell phone buzzed. It was Paige.

  “Where are you today?”

  There was noise behind the call—her friend was also not in the office. “Um…sick?”

  “No you aren’t, what happened? I tried to find you at the end
of the fundraiser, but Roger said you’d found another ride home. Who did you leave with? Is everything okay?”

  Mariel felt her throat cramp up. She had cried all she wanted to the night before. She didn’t want to start again on the phone. “Just had a bad night is all. Your dress is going to be clean in an hour. Where are you? I can drop it off.”

  “I’m so sorry you had a bad night! I had hoped it would be a nice change for you. I love the fundraisers. Dressing up and drinking and pretending I’m important. And you didn’t have to get the dress cleaned, I would have done that.”

  Mariel remembered the crusting spots on the back of the dress from where she had hastily pulled it on. “Oh, I definitely did. Its no problem, really. Where are you?”

  It was Paige’s turn to sound ambiguous on the phone. “Um, at a coffee shop. In a meeting?”

  “Which place? I’ll meet you there to drop of the dress. I’ve got to tell you something when your meeting is over.”

  Paige gave her the address, though Mariel thought she sounded reluctant on the phone. But Mariel needed to get out of D.C. and this seemed like the best way to say goodbye to the one person who had made her feel welcome.

  She carefully tucked the dress into a bag and went to the coffee shop to meet Paige. Seeing her friend, Mariel smiled. Her smile grew when she saw who Paige was with.

  Senator Taylor, looking dashing in a more laid-back ensemble jeans and a button-down, his glasses helping him keep a low profile. And no Ellen in sight.

  “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting, Senator...”

  Roger Taylor smiled his mega-watt smile at her. No wonder he was so successful at this. He managed to look handsome and genuine, unlike so many of the shark-like politicians everyone was used to. “Miss Knowles, not at all. Please call me Roger. Pull up a chair.”

  He remembered her name after just one meeting. A fleeting feeling of disappointment passed through her. Mariel regretted not being able to continue to work for this man. He seemed like he was a good politician and a good person. It would have been nice to feel like she was making a difference and supporting someone like him.

  She sat and sneaked a look at Paige, who was blushing and avoiding eye contact.

  “Ellen isn’t here?” Mariel hoped she sounded innocent.

  Roger laughed. “No. Apparently you aren’t the only person to call out today. Ellen said she wasn’t feeling well either. No harm, fundraisers tend to give us all headaches the next day. Sometimes it’s that you didn’t make enough money, but usually it’s because of the open bar.”

  They all laughed politely, but Mariel understood Paige’s reluctance at inviting her. Her friend had complained about never having Roger to herself, and now Mariel was intruding as well.

  Better make this quick, then.

  “Sir, may I speak frankly with you?” Why was it so much easier to be bold with him? Roger seemed to share none of the cold and intimidating qualities his younger brother had.

  Roger spread his hands out in an open gesture. “Please, Miss Knowles.”

  Mariel wrung her hands under the table, suddenly aware of how dry her mouth felt. “I’m…well, I’m so grateful for the opportunity to work for you.”

  “I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.” His voice was immediately serious and concerned, like a close friend or family member. It made it even tougher for Mariel to continue.

  “Yes. But, I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. I came here straight after school, you know. Maybe I should have gotten more experience at a local level first. I just feel like I’m not serving you and your staff to the best of my abilities, and I think I am going to go home.”

  Paige cursed beside her. Roger’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “This seems incongruent to what I’ve been hearing around the office, Miss Knowles.”

  Now it was Mariel’s turn to feel caught off guard.

  “Bill can’t talk enough about how savvy you are with managing the maintenance of the office. All of the staffers have been well-fed and more cheerful since you started the catering. It means they are working more efficiently for me, and I like efficiency. And, if I may be completely honest, the staffing areas have looked less like a trash dump and more like a proper office since you began. You’ve only been with us a few weeks and I’ve already heard about you, an intern. That speaks volumes.”

  Heat, prickly and pleasing, crawled up Mariel’s cheeks. She’d been trying to prove something to Dallas, but she hadn’t considered that the menial tasks she’d been set to had actually made a difference to others.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

  Mariel shook her head, afraid to speak. She hadn’t felt appreciated since she had arrived. Her dream job, and working for such a nice person… and yet, there was still his brother. Still Dallas. Still the burning memory of him.

  As if reading her mind, Paige spoke. “It’s Dallas, Roger, I’d bet on it.” As soon as she said it, Roger sat back, the same shared smirk on his face.

  “Ah, yes. Dallas. Is this why you are running so quickly, Mariel?”

  Oh, she didn’t want to admit it. Her hands clenched; her mind raced with memories of the night before. Despite the humiliation, her body heated at just the memory of him. No, she couldn’t face him again, and she certainly couldn’t tell the Senator about her one night stand with his brother.

  “He’s been, uh, difficult to work with. He doesn’t think much of me, or at least that’s the way it seems.”

  Mariel stared, fascinated by the gentle smile Roger gave her. It was so reminiscent of the man whose memory was now chasing her from her dream job. But where Dallas’s was twisted and a touch smug, Roger’s managed to look bemused. “He’s been the one complimenting you the most to me, Miss Knowles.”

  A slap in the face wouldn’t have shocked her more. “But he’s so mean to me! I came to work on policies and he has me making coffee runs!”

  Leaning forward, Roger patted her shoulder. “He’s a little harsh on the interns.”

  “Harsh?” Paige cut in. “He’s a royal dick and you know it, Roger.”

  Roger smiled, his face all apology. “Only because he was raised to be.”

  “What do you mean?” Mariel couldn’t imagine any parent wanting their child to be cruel and manipulative as Dallas was.

  “Usually the older brother protects the younger. In the Taylor family, I was raised to be a politician. Dallas was raised to watch out for me--no politician makes it far without good aides. He takes it seriously. I think that comes over into staff, too. He seems harsh, but he’s screened out a lot of duds before. I’m always left with the best, like Paige, here.”

  Mariel’s heart twisted. Why did this have to be so confusing? The Dallas that Roger described was someone she could fall for, easy. Protective. Loyal. Not the Dallas she knew, it seemed. She was curious about what Roger meant when he said that Dallas had been raised to watch out. How much of that was his choice?

  Paige, of course, was furiously blushing at Roger’s compliment. Before Mariel could reply, Roger continued.

  “I’m not going to accept your resignation, Miss Knowles. Dallas’s tactics might be hard, but he has spoken highly of you. He doesn’t speak highly of many people. That means you are exactly where you need to be. Take the rest of the day off, but I better see you at the office tomorrow.”

  Apparently she wasn’t leaving Washington D.C.

  Chapter Eight

  If Dallas was thinking anything about their scandalous night or her calling out the previous day, he didn’t show it. In fact, he ignored her-- a rarity. She couldn’t decide if she was more hurt or happy by his apparent disregard for her. Because Mariel had already set up lunches for the week, that left her with a whole day to fill, and no work to do.

  She knew better than to try and be in the interns conference room yet. Or, at least, she knew she was too scared to be. Still, she needed a way to pass the time.

  Her e-mail held the key.

&n
bsp; “Need help with shredding. If anyone has a spare moment or a spare intern, find Joe. He needs help. He’ll show where the boxes are. We are trying to get rid of previous year’s unnecessary paperwork to make room for this year’s campaign work. Thanks, Ellen.”

  Shredding documents was one of those jobs no one wanted to do. Mariel understood that. But if she could impress Ellen, it would only help her case. Maybe she could circumvent Dallas, now that Roger knew she was having difficulties with him. Also¸ Mariel was a little nosy. She’d be able to read the old documents here and there and see what kind of work they expected at the office. She’d force her way out from under Dallas’s thumb, no matter what.

  Of course, that would mean talking to him again, something she was not prepared to do. She would be wearing pants for a week to hide the rug burns her dalliance with him had left. The mental bruising would take even longer to heal.

  Mariel found Joe. He was a nice enough guy, and one of the other interns. “I thought the email was looking for people like you,” Mariel accused him, but laughing so he knew she was teasing.

  “Yeah, but Dallas has had us pulling crazy hours with research on this pipeline. Senator Taylor wants to fight it and needs data. We’ve been pouring over decades of records. It sucks. Especially since I met this hot girl at a club, and she’s into me—“ He winked at Mariel, as if she knew all about it. “These late nights mean I can’t see her much. If you could help me shred, I could tear through some research and maybe get out of here at a reasonable time. Ellen said it needed to be shredded by tomorrow morning.”

  That felt like an okay deadline, so Mariel agreed. Then she saw the room. Boxes and boxes of files and paperwork surrounded a tiny wooden chair and an ancient shredder that only allowed for a few pages at a time.