by Schiller, MK
His grin widened. “And where exactly would you like me to tickle you with my face, Marley?”
“Stop it, you’re tempting me, and we promised,” I warned.
He held up his hands in defeat, but the smirk remained. “Sorry, just one question. Will the parts I’m tickling be shaved or unshaved?”
I crossed my arms, tapping my feet. “Which would you prefer?”
He leant back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. “It’s completely optional, but my preference is smooth.”
“That’s good.”
“Why is that, Marley?”
“I am smooth.”
His eyes took on a new intensity, causing me to feel somewhat victorious in this exchange. I knew he was painting a mental picture in his head. He bit his lower lip, and his hands actually shook when he pointed to me. “Get the hell out of my office. Don’t come in here unless you need something. Got it?”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I slammed the door on my way out.
* * * *
Tuesday
“Do you see how I’m dressed?” I gestured to my over-sized polo shirt and baggy pants.
“What’s your point, Marley?” Rick asked, barely glancing at me.
“I look awful.”
“Are you saying you’re trying to dress unappealing? How is that helping you?” He sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his desk, studying me.
“It’s not helping me, you jerk! It’s to help you because that’s the kind of person I am. I care about you and don’t want to torture you. You could return the favour, you know.”
He chuckled. I couldn’t blame him—I was hysterical. “Marley, let’s get one thing straight. I’ve seen you in a short skirt. I’ve seen your bare legs and have imagined them wrapped around me. I’ve felt the curves of your body with my hands and the way it responds to me. I’ve tasted the sweetness of your mouth. There is nothing you can do to erase those images from my mind. So understand this, you could wear a Middle-eastern burka and it wouldn’t help me right now.”
I had no idea how words could make me pant, but his did. He shifted his gaze back down to his computer monitor. “But for the record, what can I do for you, Marley?” his voice cracked when he spoke.
I didn’t think too hard. I blurted out the answer. “Your eyes are distracting.”
He grinned. “I kind of need them.”
“Yes, but maybe you could wear sunglasses or something.”
“You want me to wear sunglasses indoors? Don’t you think I’d look ridiculous?”
I crossed my arms. “I guess you’re right, but you should do something. Do your suits have to be so crisp? Can’t you make you tie crooked or something?”
“Like this?” he asked, adjusting his tie with those long fingers. God help me! It made me want to jump him.
“Stop! Just never mind,” I replied, holding my hands out.
He leant back in his chair with an amused smirk. “I’ll wear sunglasses when you’re around.”
“Thank you. Is there anything else I can do for you since the clothes don’t matter?”
He was thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe, you could wear your hair up. It’s distracting to me.”
I gathered my locks in my hands and placed them on top of my head. “Like this?”
“Fuck, don’t do it in front of me. Get the hell out of my office, Marley!”
I dropped my tresses. My hair fluttered back down my shoulders. I didn’t see Rick’s reaction, but his sharp intake of breath made it quite clear he was observing me closely.
“Fine,” I said, before he could kick me out again.
“Fine.”
I slammed the door on the way out.
* * * *
Wednesday
The most amazing thing about the week was how much we were accomplishing. It was like we coveted the work to keep ourselves distracted. I didn’t even need to stay late because I was completing an inexplicable amount of tasks during the normal day. It helped because he didn’t have to walk me down, and I didn’t think either of us would be able to control ourselves in the elevator.
I hadn’t brought him coffee since Monday. I hadn’t seen him today, except when he’d left for the gym. He had gone every day this week. It surprised me when Rick walked into the cafeteria to grab a sandwich. He rarely ate the cafeteria food, opting to pick up something at the gym. I was sitting at the far end of a table with Dillon. Rick scanned the room and his eyes rested on me. He nodded at me and I nodded back. He continued to steal glances while he was waiting in line, but he did put on sunglasses. I wasn’t sure if they were for my benefit or his.
My mother had packed my lunch today and, of course, everything was extremely healthy. Among the vegan pasta salad, almonds and bottled green smoothie was a bright orange carrot. The carrot wasn’t the smooth, perfect carrot that most people sought, but natural and organic. It was long and imperfect and even had the green leaf at the end, sticking out like a fine plume. I bit into it, relishing the crispy, crunchy deliciousness, while I stared at Rick.
God help me, the sunglasses made him look even hotter. I thought of Tom Cruise in Top Gun. In spite of his shades, it was obvious Rick was watching me too, as evidenced by his gaping mouth. In a dramatic gesture, he removed the glasses, narrowing his eyes at me and biting his lip. My pulse quickened at his intense gaze. It took me a second to figure out why he resembled a lion analysing its prey. I wasn’t eating the carrot. I was sucking on it, unconsciously. I shot him a toothy smile and crunched loudly, breaking our contact. Rick shook his head and turned away.
“What the hell was that?” Dillon asked, breaking me out of my trance.
“Nothing, did you take your pills yet? I was distracted.”
Dillon had placed the contents of our lunch in a straight line from the tallest to the shortest item. “I’ll say you were distracted. I think what you did to that carrot is illegal.” He slid his pudding over to me. “Dish, Marley.”
“Dish what, Dillon?”
“What the hell is going on with you and Rick the Dick? It looked like he was fucking you with his eyes.”
I shook my head. “Dillon, please don’t ask me to dish. It’s complicated.”
“Marley, are you fucking him?” I should have known Dillon would see through any façade—he was forthright and intuitive. Two qualities I typically admired. Today though, I thought of them as annoying.
I turned and looked at Dillon. “Nope.” It was true after all. I wasn’t…yet.
“Well maybe you should and stop taking your frustrations out on innocent vegetables.”
I laughed and moved Dillon’s pills in front of him. “Maybe you’re right for once.”
When I got back to my desk, Rick stormed out of his office and confronted me. He placed both hands on my chair and spun me towards him. “You broke your promise, Marley.” I noticed his knuckles were white.
“I was eating my lunch,” I murmured innocently.
“No more carrots—I mean it—or bananas, or popsicles, or anything like that. I don’t even want you sipping from a straw. Do you understand?” Rick commanded.
“You’re dictating what I can eat now?”
“Yes, at least in front of me. Do you think I’m enjoying this? It’s torture for me.” He brought his face very close to mine and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me, but he restrained himself.
“Good, we both feel the same way then.”
“Do you promise to behave yourself or do I really need to spank you?” The question sounded playful, but his tone was completely serious.
I wanted him to spank me, but we were so close. The goal that had seemed ridiculous and impossible was within reach. I wanted Rick to touch me without any obstacles for either of us. “I promise, no more phallic food.”
He nodded and pushed my chair away. “Email me if you need me. Don’t come into my office.”
He walked away, slamming his door. I didn’t m
ean to torment him, but part of me was happy he was as miserable as I was.
* * * *
Thursday
“You’re killing your plant,” I proclaimed irately, gesturing to the yellowing hedge.
“You said you’d water it,” Rick replied briskly.
“How can I water it when you kick me out of here and tell me not to come back?” I picked up the large planter somewhat awkwardly.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rick stalked over to take it from me.
“I’m confiscating it. You don’t deserve to keep it. I need the extra oxygen too.”
He brushed against my arm and I moved my body away from him, managing to hold onto the plant.
“Don’t touch me!” I shrieked.
“It’s too heavy for you,” he replied, holding out his hands.
“Just open the door.”
He ran to the door and opened it. I put the obnoxious brass planter down on the floor, next to the window on his office door. “I’m going to take care of it because this plant doesn’t deserve to suffer over your inattention.”
He stared at the plant then back at me. “I’m very attentive, Marley. I want to give it all of the resources at my disposal so it will thrive and flourish. I want to watch while it grows under my nurturing hands.”
My eyes widened. “Fuck, you’re not talking about the plant, are you?”
He tilted his head, grinning salaciously.
“Get back into your office now, buster!”
He complied closing the door. I opened it then slammed it shut.
“And stay in there.”
He came out five minutes later with his duffle bag. “I’m going to the gym.”
“I thought you’d already gone today?”
He shook his head in annoyance. “I’m going again. Is that okay with you?”
I shifted, suppressing a chuckle. “Yes, but I was just wondering why. Are you worried about your stamina?”
He flashed a cocky smile in my direction. “Not at all and you don’t have to either. I’m not going to work out.”
“Then why are you going?”
“I need a cold shower.” He stared at me for a second as if pondering his next statement. “I hope you’ve increased your workouts this week.”
“Why? Are you calling me fat?”
He laughed. “No, Marley, your body is quite perfect. I just worry about your stamina.”
As he left, I realised that my endurance was probably minuscule compared to his. I vowed to do some yoga that night. Billie would help me—she was into all that crap. And maybe…some Kegels too.
That night, I stayed an extra fifteen minutes to get out a report. It wasn’t late enough that I’d need him to walk me out. It wasn’t dark yet and that was our rule. I heard the sounds of the Violent Femmes waft out of his office. I swallowed hard before storming in there.
“What do you want, Marley?” he asked through clenched teeth. He was at his bookshelves filing some catalogues. It was my job, but I hadn’t been doing it. I couldn’t do it—he kept kicking me out of his office.
“You’re listening to Blister in the Sun?” My voice was accusatory.
“Yes, I’m taking a break from Santana. Why?”
“You can’t listen to this, Rick,” I said rather dramatically.
“Why is that?”
My voice came out in a choked whimper, “It’s about masturbation.”
He looked at me quizzically before turning his attention to his iPod. “No, it’s not.”
I bobbed my head ridiculously. “Listen.”
We were both silent, absorbing the lyrics when the realisation hit him. He rushed over to his desk, managing to bang his knee against it. “Fuck!”
“Are you okay?” I ran to him and put my hand on his shoulder. He moved out of my grasp.
“Don’t touch me, Marley…please.” He turned off the song and breathed deeply. We both did.
“You’d better be Mr Fucking Fantastic in bed. I want this all to be worth it.”
He chuckled sarcastically, gripping the edge of his desk. When he spoke, his voice was low, barely louder than a whisper, but commanding all the same, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to worship every inch of your delicious body, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”
I was thankful his back was to me, because my legs were shaking. I wanted to jump him right then.
“Sounds good, I’ll…um…see you tomorrow then.” Sounds good? I awkwardly backed away towards the door.
“Marley, wear a skirt for me, please.”
“Won’t that be hard for you?”
He didn’t turn to me, but I saw the slight shake of his head. “It will be hard. It will be hard all day, and I believe it will be hard all night as well. Do you understand?”
“Tomorrow is jean day.”
“Then wear a fucking jean skirt,” he said evenly. Why isn’t his voice squeaking?
“What about you?” I asked with more conviction.
“What about me?”
“I want you in a suit…got it.”
He straightened, but didn’t turn to me. His voice was lighter than it had been a few minutes earlier. “But it’s jean day.”
“Then wear a fucking jean suit.” What? A jean suit…is that even a real thing? I pictured something from Starsky and Hutch, a sitcom my mom used to watch—a leisure suit made of denim—and I actually laughed despite the dampness between my legs. He laughed too, relieving some of the sexual friction.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied more relaxed. “I’ll have more time since I don’t have to shave tomorrow.” With that simple statement, the tension came rushing back in the room like a furious wave, threatening to sweep me away.
“Goodnight, Rick.”
“Tomorrow, Marley.”
“Tomorrow, Rick.”
No one slammed the door.
* * * *
Friday
I loved Fridays! They were the absolute best day of the week, and this Friday was the bestest of the best. I didn’t own a jean skirt, but my mom did. It was very cool and vintage with neat swirly stitching. I paired it with a fitted black button-down top and knee-high boots. I wanted to cover my legs, not for Rick, but for me. The way he looked at them had the potential to make me collapse on the floor. Underneath my ensemble, I wore my favourite black lace bra and panties. It was funny, I was covered from head to toe except for the tops of my knees, but I still felt alluring. It was totally sexy, not slutty, and I knew he’d be just the kind of man to appreciate that.
He grinned broadly when I brought him his coffee. “You’re bringing me coffee again?”
“Yes, I think you’ll earn it later,” I replied, trying not to stare too hard at him.
He was wearing a jean suit but it was totally hot. His jeans pleasingly accentuated his strong hips, and he wore a tight fitted button down black shirt with green tie that brought out his piercing, emerald eyes. A modern cut, denim fitted jacket topped it off. It was the perfect combination of conservative casual, and it made my mouth go dry. Ironically, we matched.
He reached into his desk and handed me a Zesty bar. “This is for you.”
“You’re giving me Zesty bars again? Do you think I’ll earn it?” I asked huskily.
“I’m sure you will, but right now, I want to make sure you keep your strength up.”
I took the bar from his hand, careful not to touch him. “Don’t worry about me, cowboy. I’ve been doing Kegels and eating lots of carrots this week.”
He blinked at me, but I just smiled sweetly. He smiled tightly and sucked in a deep breath. “Why are you still here, Marley?”
“Leaving,” I replied, walking away.
A few hours later, he rushed out of his office. I thought he was late for a meeting.
“Get your stuff. We’re going to lunch.”
I glanced at the clock. “Lunch? It’s only ten-thirty.”
He placed both hands on
my chair, and brought his face close to mine. “We have some results to go over. They wanted to mail them to us, but I told them we’d pick them up in person. So, get your stuff and let’s go.”
I stood, moving swiftly, but a troubling thought suddenly froze me. The game we were playing was so erotic and consuming, I hadn’t thought about what would happen if the results were bad. I had always been careful, but you never really knew. I swallowed hard, and Rick must have sensed the shift in my posture because he came up behind me and embraced me. “It will be fine, Marley. We’re both in the same boat here. We don’t know what our results will hold, but I promise you no matter what it is, we’ll figure it out together.”
I nodded then we walked to the elevator silently. Rick punched the button and stood beside me. When the car arrived, he leaned against the elevator opening, allowing me to enter first. Before I could, he clasped my arm and pulled me towards him, whispering discretely in my ear, “I have another C-word for you, Marley…cunnilingus.”
A million things happened to my body at once. My pulse quickened, my heart thumped wildly, the hair on the back of my neck stood up and the area between my legs felt slippery. Cunnilingus? Not the sexiest word, but when it rolled off his soft, sumptuous lips, I felt like I could orgasm right there. He helped me into the elevator—he had to. We went to the opposite ends of the elevator car. We had to.
Then the annoying thing happened where we heard multiple shouts of, “Hold the door.”
Damn! Doesn’t anyone know common elevator etiquette?
I wanted to hit the door-close button, but Rick, the consummate gentleman, held the doors open. About twenty people piled on, separating Rick and I further. How was there this many people in the elevator? Crap, I hoped they couldn’t sense what a hot, damp mess I was. It was so freaking embarrassing, and I silently cursed Rick for turning me on so much with a simple word. Not even a smutty word, but a scientifically correct word. How did he do that? If I said fellatio, would it turn him on?
Kathy was among the passengers, and it was obvious she wanted to stand as close to Rick as possible.
“Where are you off to?” Kathy asked him. It was hard to see among the pile of people, but I leaned my head back, and could just make out Kathy caressing Rick’s arm through the myriad of elbows and shoulders that separated us.