The Other C-Word

by Schiller, MK

  “What’s that?” I croaked.

  “I’m filthy rich,” he teased, kissing away the rest of my tears. He was trying to make me laugh, and it worked.

  “Oh yeah? Then why aren’t you a man of leisure?”

  “I was, for a year when I first got the money. I told people I was finding myself, but really, I was just bumming around Europe, drinking like a fish, and hanging out with soccer hooligans.”

  “Soccer hooligans? I can’t picture that.”

  “It’s true, but I changed my tune after a while. My parents were hardworking people, and what I was doing was disrespectful to their memory and not the way they raised me. I went to Harvard for my bachelors and Stanford for my masters. I had high marks, so I obtained a job at Lehman Brothers. It was a great job, and I moved up fast. I discovered I was good at fixing problems. Not good enough to fix the mess they were in, but enough so that when they went bankrupt, I decided to branch out on my own. I guess that’s my life story, not that you asked.”

  “I did ask and I’m happy to know it. I have just one question though.”

  “What’s that, baby?”

  “If you’re so rich, then why are you so cheap?” I replied, putting my arms around his neck.

  “Oh, I’m going to show you cheap, you little gold-digger.” He tickled me, until I laughed like a hyena.

  * * * *

  The next few weeks passed by in a blur of activity. I saw Rick on an almost daily basis, but now we met up with Stevie and Adam or Billie and Dillon, frequently. It was strange that not only was I dating, I was double dating. It was something Stevie and I had always talked about as little girls, but I couldn’t believe we were actually doing it. Rick and Adam sometimes hung out and did guy things too. I was glad they liked each other, but the shape of my relationship with Rick was anything but casual now. He had become a part of my life and in a way that I didn’t mind. Rick came over for dinner regularly, and he seemed to appreciate my whacky family. I still wouldn’t spend the night with him, but thankfully, he no longer made the request.

  I asked Rick to be my date for Stevie’s wedding. Actually, she invited him, informing him he was my plus one. Stevie was bossy with everyone.

  I walked into Rick’s office one day to put away some catalogues when I noticed he’d fallen asleep at his chair. I quietly bent down to look at him. I’d never seen him asleep. He looked so peaceful and sweet like this. The poor man had to be tired. He was always at the office before me, and I knew he stayed much later than I did, often coming back to work after taking me out. He was a complete workaholic, and it was obvious Henley was getting his money’s worth. I stroked the soft, sandy hair over his forehead, pressing a kiss against his temple. When I moved back to look at him, his lids suddenly popped open, revealing the most beautiful, glassy green eyes staring right at me. Rick screamed and pushed me away. I unceremoniously landed straight on my ass.

  ”What the hell were you doing?” he grumbled, standing up.

  “I was making sure you weren’t dead.” I realised how stupid it sounded as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “I was breathing wasn’t I?” He looked down at me, and his face softened instantly. He offered me his hand. “I’m sorry, but you scared me. Are you okay, Marley?”

  He lifted me up and embraced me. He caressed my behind, soothing the area where I’d landed. I looked towards the door because we were in a compromising position.

  “Did you hurt yourself, baby?”

  “No, except for my eardrums when you screamed. You scream like a girl,” I teased, hoping it would distract from the fact that I was gawking at him in his sleep.

  Rick laughed. “Yeah, I guess that happens when I wake up to someone staring at me. Even someone as beautiful as you. I like hearing you scream better, especially when it’s my name.”

  I pushed him away from me and sauntered out to my desk.

  “Marley?”

  I turned around, giving him a placating smile.

  “I don’t mind if you watch me sleep, but perhaps you’ll return the favour one day. I want to know how you say my name when you’re dreaming.”

  My smile disappeared and I rushed out, closing his office door behind me. I sat at my desk, overwhelmed by all the emotions pouring into me. Did he have any idea what he’d just said to me? How it resonated so deeply? The whole reason I didn’t want to spend the night with him was because I never wanted him to see the crazy person I became when I dreamed. The person who was violent and lacked control.

  I heard Rick’s footsteps as he approached me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, bending down so we were at eye level. “I’m sorry, Marley. It was just my lame attempt at humour. I don’t know what I said, but I have a feeling I scared you more than you scared me.”

  I didn’t know how to respond so I yanked on his tie and pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn’t the smartest idea since we were at work, and he appeared to be struggling with his willpower too. He kissed me back, grasping my waist. The next thing I knew I was off the ground. I instinctively placed my arms around his shoulders and wrapped my legs over his waist while he carried me into his office. He locked the door behind us and shut the blinds.

  “Can’t have any Peeping Toms,” he said jokingly.

  This was dangerous territory, but the way his tongue was moving inside my mouth, I couldn’t remember why.

  Rick scanned his office, searching for a place to take me. It was all very humorous, because his desk was scattered with copy material. Even in his spontaneity, Rick was too studious to be the kind of guy to swipe the papers off his desk. He looked down at the dark, brown carpeting and back up at me. I shook my head in response. I’m no germaphobe, but I had no idea when that carpet had last been cleaned, and the thought of lying on it was somewhat disgusting, especially because I knew the original colour was closer to beige than brown.

  “Care to assist me with a problem I’m having, Miss Mason?”

  “Of course, what can I do for you, Mr Richard Randy?”

  “Well, I really want to fuck you right this second. The question is where?”

  “Umm…well, anywhere but my arse, please,” I replied jokingly, feigning a British accent. It sounded more like Professor McGonagall than Bridget Jones.

  Rick cocked his eyebrows. “You know that’s not what I meant, right?”

  “Yes, but I see the way you look at my arse and feel you need to be reminded.”

  “Well, Miss Mason, you do have a breathtaking backside, and I am but a mere man.”

  “No worries, I myself am a lowly assistant, trying to turn you on with my sexy voice.” I batted my eyelashes ridiculously for effect.

  “Is that supposed to be British or Irish? I can’t tell.”

  I sighed. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

  I didn’t even comprehend his movements because they were so swift. I found myself pinned against the wall. The same wall that we’d shared our first kiss, coincidentally. Rick pushed my skirt up, unzipped his pants and pulled my panties to the side. “This is your fault. You know what you do to me when you wear a garter belt.”

  “Why do you think I wore one?” After that, I had trouble articulating clearly because he was thrusting into me. He nibbled at my neck and bit my earlobe. The steady thrusts gave way to a fierce pounding. I felt every motion as I clung to his neck and tightened my legs around him.

  “I love being inside you. I crave it. I crave you all the time, Marley Mason,” he said in a coarse whisper against my neck.

  I screamed out, causing him to cup his hand to my mouth.

  “Shhh, baby, don’t forget where we are, okay?”

  I did forget—he made me forget everything. I felt my climax as he continued to pulse into me. It was deeper this way, stronger because our fortitude and strength had diminished. We wanted each other too much for our own good. Rick made his final thrust and leaned his head against the wall. His breath heated my neck.

  “You’re going to break me, baby.”
<
br />   I would have thought it was a joke, but he’d said it seriously with a tinge of sadness. I kissed the top of his head, not sure how to reply. He removed himself and set me down gently.

  “Thank you for your assistance, Miss Mason,” Rick said in his normal voice, kissing my hand. The moment was over, but he revealed something to me then. Something he wanted to keep to himself. This was going to be painful when it was over for both of us. I didn’t quite feel that pain yet, but it was buried deep inside me, readying to come out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was Friday, the best day of the week, but I had to admit I was a little dejected because I couldn’t spend the evening with Rick. The sadness turned into indignation when he called me into his office for ‘dictation’. I walked into his office, approaching his desk wearily. “Rick, seriously? We can’t let it happen again. We have to keep this professional.”

  He smiled cynically. “Where’s your notepad?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How can you take dictation without a notepad? Oh, were you thinking something else, you naughty girl?”

  I stood over to his desk, hands on my hips. “Very funny. I think I need to throw something at you.”

  He took my arm and pulled me down into his lap. “Sorry, baby, I honestly do have a few memos for you to type up.”

  “If that’s the case, then why am I in your lap?” I asked, not stopping him when he kissed me.

  “I couldn’t help myself. You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re pretending to be angry.”

  “I wasn’t pretending, mister! Seriously, people are starting to talk about us,” I stammered, between his kisses.

  “Who’s talking, Marley? Give me their names and I’ll fire them.” Rick laughed, with that wicked, boyish smile. I shook my head and tried to get up, but his grip was too tight. He kissed my neck and it melted any willpower I might have had. “Did you get my present?”

  “Yes, I received your presents, plural. I’m wearing one of them. Thank you very much, but did you buy out the whole Victoria’s Secret catalogue?”

  He laughed. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I got some of everything. I’m sorry it’s so late, but I reminded you repeatedly that I owed you some panties. Since you kept procrastinating about picking them out, I had to take it upon myself. I didn’t know what you’d want, I just picked everything that I liked. Who knew there was such variety?”

  “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to explain to your mom why you’re receiving a truckload of lingerie.”

  “Ah, sorry, I didn’t think about that one. I was too busy thinking about how I was going to rip it all off you.”

  I pulled away from him, trying to keep my composure. “What’s wrong?” he asked me.

  “I forgot to tell you, I have plans tonight.”

  “I know, so do I. Why do you think I was trying to cop a feel?”

  I gave him a confused look. “What plans do you have?”

  “I can’t have plans? Are you jealous?” he asked, moving in for another kiss. I put my arm against his chest to stop him.

  “I guess it would depend on who you have plans with and what you plan to do.”

  “Baby, I’m doing the same thing you are. I know you have your sister’s bachelorette party tonight, and I’m going to Adam’s bachelor party.”

  In a way, I was surprised. I knew Rick and Adam had become friends, but I didn’t realise they were on that level.

  “Does that make you feel better?”

  “Not especially. Are you going to a strip club?” I had no idea what Adam was doing, but I didn’t like the idea of Rick ogling other woman.

  Rick laughed right in the face of my insecurity. “I think so, but don’t worry, I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.”

  “Eww, don’t think of me when you’re watching some girl disrobe and gyrate in fake tassels…that disgusts me.”

  “Do you want me to think of her?”

  “Point taken…think of me.”

  “It will be easy to think about you because I think about you all the time.” He pulled me in for a longer kiss, expertly sneaking his tongue into my mouth. When we separated, I was a little breathless. His kisses still did that to me. The man was a great kisser.

  “Are you going to a strip club?” Rick asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “No, Stevie wasn’t interested in that. We’re going to a dance club and getting our groove on.”

  Rick sighed, pressing his lips into my neck. “I wish you were going to a strip club instead.”

  I pushed away from him, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. “Why?”

  “Strip clubs have rules about touching.”

  “You think I’m going to touch somebody, Rick?”

  “No, that’s not my concern. I don’t want anyone touching you. It’s a big problem, because you’re so damn adorable and places like that are creep magnets.”

  I giggled. “You’re kind of a possessive caveman type, aren’t you?”

  “Hmm…that’s a good C-word to describe me, at least when it comes to you. Promise me you won’t dance with another guy, okay?”

  My eyes widened. “Why?”

  His voice was low and spoken at a slower pace as if he wanted to make sure his meaning was clear. “I wouldn’t like it. Dancing in one of those places is very sexual. I don’t like the idea of anyone else’s hands on you. You are mine, and that means no one else gets to grind against you, grab your ass or anything else. Do you promise, Marley?”

  This type of speech would have caused me to go on red alert in the past. It would have caused my stalker senses to go off and have me running for the hills, but with Rick, I didn’t feel that. I didn’t feel it because I would have uttered the same words to him.

  “I won’t dance with any boys except Dillon, if you promise not to stuff dollar bills into anyone’s G-string.”

  “Dollar bills? You think I’m that cheap? Baby, someone’s got to help these poor girls go to college.”

  I grabbed a handful of his Polo shirt and pulled him towards me. “Write a check to a local college fund for poor wayward strippers then. If you stuff, I’ll dance.”

  “Okay, I promise no stuffing, no gawking and no imagining. I’ll only be thinking about you. The next time I’m inside you. The next time I get to rip off your panties. The next time we take a shower together. The next time I hold you against a wall.” He made each statement with slow, whispered precision.

  “Stop it! I’m going to need to change my panties if you keep going.”

  He laughed as I stood. “Why do you think I bought you so many?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I gaped in awe at the sparkly, pink top Stevie expected me to wear. Damn if she hadn’t bought one in a different colour for all of us.

  “Are you crazy? You’ve assigned us clothes to wear?”

  She nodded. “This is a huge club, and it will be easier to find each other if we separate. Besides, I picked out a top that will look good on everyone. It’s my gift to all my girls.” I didn’t want to, but I had to admit, Stevie had good taste. Each top was slightly different. Mine was form fitting and one shouldered. Billie’s was a silver, V-neck and looser. My mom’s was a blue tank top style, but a more conservative in cut. They were however, all made from the same glittery material. Regardless of how great they looked, I knew we would resemble a gay pride float when we walked into the dance club together.

  “Do you think we’re the fucking Partridge family or something?”

  Stevie laughed. “My party, my rules. This is the one day where I get to tell everyone what to do and I love telling people how to dress, especially you.”

  I groaned. “Isn’t your wedding day, next week, supposed to be that day?”

  “Yeah, but I kind of have to share that with Adam.”

  “Get off it, he’s totally whipped. You know you rule all the decisions on that day too.”

  Stevie giggled. “Yeah, well he’s a smart guy. I told him if he’d let me
pick out all the details for our wedding day, he could pick out all the positions for our honeymoon.”

  Stevie never failed to gross me out. “Thank you for making me throw up before I drink.”

  The Cassbar was a converted warehouse turned dance club. It boasted several levels, strobe lights, numerous bars and even cages where go-go dancers were on display. It looked like a relic of the seventies, which was probably why my mother had agreed to come. I sat with Stevie at one of the bars. Stevie looked so happy. I loved that she was taking this huge step in her life. I loved Adam too, but I’d been telling him for years that I’d cut off his balls if he ever hurt her. I’d threatened him with more than a butter knife too.

  My mom, Billie and all of Stevie’s girlfriends were on the far side of the club, but I wanted a private moment with her. “I want your top,” I said, eyeing her white sparkly strapless top.

  “Only the bride gets to wear white, Marley,” she retorted, sipping her Long Island Iced tea and adjusting the tiara that spelled out ‘BRIDE’ in fake diamonds.

  Just then, Dillon approached us. It was funny because Dillon was invited to both Adam’s and Stevie’s parties, but his decision on which invitation to accept had been simple. He wanted nothing to do with what those boys were up to tonight. “Hello, dolls,” he said, spinning around for us. He was wearing a hot pink button-down shirt with silver threading and skinny black jeans.

  “Dillon, Stevie didn’t get you a top?”

  He laughed, pulling up his shirt, revealing a sparkly orange belt underneath it. “No, she got me something to hold up my bottoms instead.”

  “I think you clash, Dills,” I yelled into his ear so he could hear me over the music.

  He stepped back, faking an offended look. “Kid, orange and pink are the new black and white. Get with the times.” He took a sip of my drink and bowed to us before saying, “Later, bitches.” Okay, I knew Dillon was drunk already because he never referred to us as bitches unless he’d had a few cocktails.