Chapter Ten
Brick
I overheard Madi’s conversation with her mother and gave her space in case she needed to process things. At six, I summon her to bring my tux in from the closet. I had some foolish idea about changing in front of her–remembering how turned on she’d been that second week when she’d spilled water on me and walked in when I had my shirt off.
Screwing her in the office has taken the edge off, but it’s not the same as taking a female to bed. I don’t get to see her naked. There are things I want to do to her that take more time than a quickie stolen during work hours.
Fuck. Me.
She comes in wearing the dress she wore to the charity ball. Of course–it’s not like she has another gown. We’ve already established that. But its effect on me is immediate and painful.
“Oh, honey. You made a huge tactical error wearing that dress again.” I’ve taken off my jacket, tie, and dress shirt, so I’m standing in my undershirt. I eat up the way her gaze traces where my biceps pop out of the sleeves.
I expect a sassy response, but her expression flickers to doubt, and she freezes in place. “I did?”
I take the tuxedo bag from her and toss it on a chair. “You did.” I pick her up and sit her on my desk.
“Jesus, you are strong.” She grabs onto my arms and squeezes, like she’s testing the muscles. Same thing she did that day she pretended she was blotting the water from my abs.
“Uh huh.” I lower my head and trail my tongue lightly around the V of her window, delving between her perky breasts. “You left me with blue balls the last time you wore this, and I haven’t forgiven you for it.”
She spreads her thighs wide, encouraging me closer. “You haven’t?” Her voice is husky and sweet.
“No, Windows. Punishment is definitely in order.”
Her pupils dilate. Breath quickens. The scent of her arousal drugs me.
I drop my hands to her hips. “I don’t appreciate being teased, little girl. Not at all. So now you’re going to feel the sting of your boss’ ruler.”
“Oh.” She sits up taller like she just squeezed her ass. She’s adorably aroused, and I’m already desperate to satisfy her, my wolf starting to run the show.
I lean down to murmur the next order right against the shell of her ear. “Go and get it from my desk drawer.”
When I step back, she slides off the desk and wobbles to the other side of the desk to open my drawer. Her hand trembles a little when she hands it to me, but I read far more excitement than nerves in her.
“Come back over here.” I tap the surface of the desk. She toddles back, and I push her face down over it. I take my time sliding the smooth red fabric of the dress up her legs. “Beautiful girl,” I murmur, admiring the shape of her legs, the curve of her ass.
She’s in one of her G-strings–the one I already acquainted myself with this morning. I peel it off her, kissing down the back of one leg when I squat to detangle it from her ankles.
I make a detour on my way back up to grip both her thighs and spread them open, so I can lick her sweet pussy. It’s an activity I haven’t had nearly enough time to indulge in and will never tire of. I work her soft folds until she’s moaning, inner thighs quivering, and then I stand.
She lets out a whimper of disappointment.
“Did you think I was going to let you come, Madi-girl? I’m not.”
She whirls to look over her shoulder, her silky bob swishing at the sharp action.
“This is punishment, little girl.”
“Not listening.” The warble in her voice tells me she’s hanging on every word.
I take my time picking up the ruler with one hand as I stroke a circle around her ass with the other. “Ready for your spanking?”
“Does anyone ever say yes to that?” Sassy, as always.
I slap the ruler against one of her cheeks, and she gives a little yelp. “The correct answer is yes, sir.” I slap the other cheek. “But to answer your question, I wouldn’t know. I told you before, you’re the only assistant I’ve had in this particular position.”
“I better be,” she mutters.
I deliver another spank to each of her cheeks. She gasps and tightens her ass. “Let’s try this again.” Two more slaps. The ruler leaves delightful red stripes on her cheeks that satisfy my wolf. I’m leaving a mark on her–just not the permanent one he wants me to. “Are you ready for your spanking?”
“Yes, sir.” She lets out the words with a light gust of laughter. “And also–ow.”
I stop and rub the stripes. “Too much?”
“No.” Her answer has that soft quality she takes on when she’s telling some truth about herself she wasn’t sure she wanted to reveal. I’ve come to love this particular sound from her. Especially because I don’t hear it that often.
I decide perhaps the ruler is too much, though. Madison loves sexual dominance, but I don’t think she’s a pain slut. I use my hand instead, delivering a flurry of spanks that make her gasp and jerk. When I’ve turned her ass pink, I stop and rub again.
“That’s for wearing this dress to a work function. I’m going to be gritting my teeth all night over the fact that men you work with are seeing you in it.”
“You’re the only man I work with,” she reminds me, which gives me a small measure of satisfaction.
I trail my finger along the cleft of her ass until my fingertip comes in contact with the little pucker of her back hole. “I still haven’t taken you here.” I circle it lightly.
She squeezes it closed. “I-I don’t think tonight’s, um, the right night–”
My laugh interrupts her. I kick her feet wider. “Agreed. The office doesn’t seem like the right place. Which brings me to my next complaint.” I give her pussy a light spank, and she gasps. “I need you naked. And in a bed.”
I spank her pussy again, and she shivers. I deliver a series of short, light spanks to her clit, my fingers meeting wetness with each slap.
She doesn’t offer me a response. No refusal, but no acceptance, either.
I unbutton my trousers and free my Washington Monument-sized erection. “And that’s why you don’t get to come tonight.”
“What?” She tries to straighten, but I hold her down.
“You heard me.” I drag the head of my cock through her juices. “I’m not satisfied with your performance, Madison. I’m docking your pay.” I ease in.
A frustrated laugh tumbles from her lips. “Are you paying me in orgasms?”
“Not tonight.” I feed every inch into her tight channel, then ease back and press forward again.
“Brick!”
I chuckle at her shocked protest because she doesn’t use my first name often. It’s sweet to hear it now. When I start to move inside her my eyes roll back in my head at the relief. The ecstasy. This is exactly where I need to be. Right now. Every day. Every moment of every day. This is the only time I get a break from the constant pressure my wolf applies.
I take my time, savoring every stroke. Closing my eyes and breathing in her Frankincense and orange scent. I register every sensation acutely. The sound of her panting breaths. The squeeze of her internal muscles around my dick. The slide of her body across my desk.
Soon the sensations overwhelm me. It’s too much. I can’t wait any longer. I wrap an arm around her waist, so I don’t bruise her hips against the wood and buck hard against her soft ass, thrusting deep.
“Don’t come, Madison,” I warn as I pick up the tempo.
“I will.”
My beautiful, disobedient assistant. She rests on her forearms, her hair swinging forward and back with each brutal thrust.
“Madison.” I use my stern boss voice. Heat flushes every inch of my skin. My quads tighten and jerk. Balls draw up. “Do. Not. Come.”
“Or what?” She wants a consequence.
I adlib, trying to think of something she might care about. “Or I won’t let you go to the holiday party.”
I hear her scoff of injustice, and I know I picked the right threat. She whimpers and lowers her head to the desk, holding very still, like she’s forcing herself not to enjoy it.
I smile, thrusting hard, on the verge of reaching completion.
My wolf tries to hold me back, pissed that I’m not satisfying the female he believes is our mate. It takes me another moment to work through that block, but when I come, it’s incredible. Fireworks explode outside the window. Or maybe just in my mind. Alpha power pours from me into her, like my wolf is trying to anoint her with my essence. Mark her as mine in a different way.
She whimpers again, like she’s in pain.
I don’t feel like gloating or reminding her that this is how I will feel all night with her walking around in that dress.
No, I simply can’t take it. Her pain is mine.
“Good girl.” I reach around the front of her hips and find her clit. I touch it very lightly. “You can come now, beautiful.” I breathe the words against her ear.
She whimpers one more time and squirms, seeking release. I increase the pressure on her clit, making a tiny circle around it, and she comes–hard. Her muscles squeeze my cock and wring a second mini-orgasm out of me.
I stay buried inside her for a few moments, and she collapses over the desk, her cheek pressed against the polished wood.
“You are magnificent.” I stroke the hair back from her face.
She lets out a laugh. “I think you did all the work there, Big Bad.”
I ease out of her and clean her with some tissues.
She turns and rests her hands on my chest. “But it’s nice to earn some rare praise from the boss.”
I lower my head and kiss her, feeling better now that I’ve marked her with my essence. Like I might be able to function tonight at the party.
Her stomach growls, and I jerk away. “You’re hungry.”
“How did you even hear that? I only felt it.” She stoops to pick up her panties. “There will be food at the party. Are you going to let me go now?”
“You’re going with me.”
“Mmm hmm. Got that memo. Can we go soon?”
I move to put on the tuxedo. She pulls on her panties then leans against the desk to watch me change.
“Do you think Jerry knows I’m screwing the boss?”
I want to lie to her, only because I don’t want her to feel any shame. But I’m not a liar. And with her brains, she just needs the facts of a situation to figure some angle with it. She should have been an attorney.
I meet her gaze across the room with a rueful twist of my lips. “Probably.”
The real answer is definitely. Jerry is a shifter. He smells everything that goes on in this office. He empties our trash. He has shifter hearing, and he’s outside the door cleaning right now. He probably heard her ask the question.
She nods.
“Do you mind?”
She turns away from me, so I can’t read her face. “Eh. It is what it is, I guess.” She walks to the door. “I need to power down my laptop.”
I button up my crisp white tuxedo shirt trying to identify the sense of dissatisfaction that’s still around despite assuaging my wolf’s appetite for Madison a moment ago.
It seems the sex is no longer enough for me.
I want all of Madison. I want to know what’s going on in her head. More than that, I want her to share it with me, to confide, to show me her real feelings. This habit she has of buttoning it all up is getting under my skin.
Outside my door, I hear her ask Jerry if he’s going to the party. I bare my teeth, a wolf-snarl rising up in my throat at the mere fact she’s talking to another male. In that dress.
A male who is absolutely no threat.
Even so, I barrel out my door and cast Jerry a dark look, which he immediately heeds by moving swiftly away from behind Madison’s desk.
Why in the fuck was he so close to her, anyway?
I stalk over and take Madison’s hand, the seething not abating until I have her safely in the elevator.
Fuck me. I will not survive this night.
* * *
Madison
I swear Blackthroat was jealous of me talking to the janitor back at the office. He got grumpy and barely said a word on the ride over to the hotel. The horrible weather matches his dark mood. It’s snowing that heavy, wet precipitate that makes him keep the windshield wipers at full speed.
The idea that Brick Blackthroat might feel threatened by a sixty-year-old janitor is so ludicrous, it’s laughable. I guess he really does feel territorial of me when I wear this dress. I wish that didn’t satisfy me so much. I wish I wasn’t rapidly falling for this man. Because I could definitely get used to this. The more time I spend with Brick, the more time I want to spend with him, which is a problem. Because I am terrified of falling off the cliff. I don’t want to end up like my mom–in love with some rich guy who is just sowing his wild oats before he settles down with some socialite who fits the family pedigree.
Blackthroat uses valet parking, and it seems we’re right on time. The ballroom Moon Co rented is rapidly filling, with festive employees dressed in gowns and tuxes streaming in. The banquet hall is tastefully decorated, and a string quartet plays pop tunes in one corner. That was Genevieve’s idea. I guess she’s a Bridgerton fan or something. I personally think it’s a touch stuffy, but what do I know? I’m not from the same social sphere as most of these people.
A waiter walks by with a tray of canapes, and Blackthroat summons him over then indicates it’s for me. I pick one and pop it in my mouth.
“Hold up,” Blackthroat demands as the waiter starts to move away. “She’s hungry.”
“Oh.” I let out an embarrassed laugh and scoop two more hors d”oeuvres off the tray. “It’s true, I am. Thanks.”
I spot various members of the executive team looking as at-home and devastatingly handsome in their tuxedos as they did at the last ball, only this time they each have a gorgeous woman on their arm.
“I want you to stay by my side tonight,” Blackthroat declares after I knock his hand away from the small of my back. “I will need that memory of yours.”
It’s bullshit, and we both know it. “This is not a working event. I should be allowed to enjoy the party, same as any other employee.”
“Nice try, Windows. I already told you that you’re my representative here. Which means I need you by my side.”
He really is jealous of other men seeing me in this dress. It’s confirmed when I sign hello to Noah across the room, and Blackthroat actually shakes his head at him to warn him from coming over. He tries to put his hand on my back again.
I sidestep away. “What if I want to dance?” I don’t. Dancing isn’t my forte. I’m just messing with him.
“You’ll dance with me.”
“Not happening.”
“Madison.”
My nipples bead up because he’s using his stern reprimand-y voice. “Yes?” I keep my tone cool, even though I’m giggling inside.
“You’ll stay by my side, or I will toss you over my fucking shoulder and spank your ass as I carry you out.”
My knees buckle and panties dampen. Somehow, Brick senses it and places a steadying hand at my elbow. His nostrils flare like he’s breathing in my scent.
“No touching,” I tell him.
Twenty feet away, I see Billy, who has a stunning but bitchy-looking blonde on his arm. He turns his head and frowns, as if he heard me and didn’t like it.
Brick makes a sound of frustration but drops my elbow.
“I’m going to let Genevieve know you’re here. She wants you to take the stage and welcome everyone to kick the night off.”
“We’re staying for thirty minutes, and then we’re gone.”
“I’m not leaving with you, bossman. It’s simply not happening. And I will stay as long as I want.” I cut away to find Genevieve, not looking back to see how Blackthroat took that.
This thing with Brick is getting out of hand. I’m losing control, and I don’t like that feeling.
I find Genevieve to deliver the information, and while she and Blackthroat take the stage, I make a beeline for the open bar.
“You know what happens to secretaries who fuck their bosses?” I instantly recognize the condescending voice beside me. I think I’ll start calling Billy Draco Malfoy behind his back.
I turn and blink at him. “What?” I ask with my business-polite voice.
“Nothing good.”
I snort. “Inventive. Did you stay up all night thinking of that zinger?”
The glower he gives me is so hateful it unnerves me, and I have nerves of steel. God, what did I ever do to this guy to earn such spite?
He leans into my personal space. “I’m onto you, Evans. You won’t be running that smart mouth when Brick finds out what you’re really about.” He takes his drink and walks off, leaving me staring.
He’s onto me?
What the hell does that mean?
That he knows I’m having sex with Brick? Or does he mean something else?
A sense of misgiving moves through me. I knew when I took this job it would be a hard one to keep. Still, things are different now. Getting fired would mean something went awry between Brick and me. And that…makes my stomach churn.
But I haven’t done anything harmful to Moon Co. In fact, I’ve worked my ass off to make sure its CEO can function at top performance level. Unless you count the time when he’s busy making us both come.
I look up to drink in the sight of my boss on the stage. Blackthroat stands beside Genevieve with his hands in his pockets, glowering in my direction. Just the sight of him in that tuxedo, exuding his unique brand of scornful power, weakens my knees.
Brick Blackthroat. My Big Bad Boss. The man dangerously close to luring me in. He takes the microphone from Genevieve, and I have the sudden urge to run.
Very fast.
Away from this event.
It’s been too much–finding out about my parentage, getting sniped at by Billy, beginning to want more from Brick.
I need to gather my head.
As my sexy boss offers a curt greeting to his employees, I duck out the door, pick up my coat from the coat check, and get in an elevator. I don’t owe him my presence here tonight. Well, I suppose I technically do, but he’s not going to fire me over it. My job is now too entwined with sex. With our non-relationship relationship.
When we blow up, it all blows up, and I doubt it will be over this although it’s possible I’m trying to move that date forward every time I rebel against him.
I step out of the elevator and debate how to get home. Considering the weather and my attire, I probably need a cab. The doorman holds the door for me, and I step out.
“Taxi?”
“She’s going with me,” Brick snarls from behind us.
I whirl to see his eyes flashing a strange shade of amber in the light. He reaches a hand for my hip in a possessive gesture as he thrusts his valet ticket at the attendant.
For some reason, none of my usual snappy responses come to mind. I’m too tired. My brain is churning too much on the Harringtons and my mom and the fact that everyone at Moon Co knows I’m screwing the boss. I’m in limbo–I need to make a decision about this job and Blackthroat, but I keep putting it off because of this. The way I feel every time he demonstrates his interest in me.
I’m hungry for his attention, his affection, his constant approval. I don’t want to give up hearing him growl “good girl” or ordering me around in that bossy way of his and watching as I perform for him. I don’t want to end the game we play because it’s so damn satisfying.
I expect a dressing down about leaving the party, but instead, he modulates his temper for once. Even though I see frustration in the set of his mouth, his voice is a mild rumble. “I’ll take you home, Windows.”
“I can take a cab.”
“It’s snowing, I’m taking you home.”
I muster a retort. “Newsflash, Big Bad, outside of the office, you’re not the boss of me.” My words lack my usual snappy delivery, and he must see it because his often flinty gaze is soft on my face.
“Keep telling yourself that, Madison,” he murmurs.
* * *
Brick
Something’s off with Madison, and it kills me. Was she running from me? Or was it something Billy said to her? I will tear him apart if he hurts her. Literally. With my wolf fangs.
Or maybe this is about that bitch, Eleanor Harrington.
I know Madison has issues with money and social class that likely stem from the situation with her father. This probably poked all those wounds.
She ends up getting into my car without a fuss, but she’s miles away.
“Did Billy say something to you?” I ask as we drive.
Her gaze slides my way. “I”m not afraid of Billy.”
I reach out and cup the back of her head, massaging her scalp lightly there. “You”re not afraid of anyone, are you, Windows?”
She steals another glance at me, as if surprised by the praise.
“Tell me what he said.”
She shrugs. “He just said nothing good happens to secretaries who fuck the boss.”
I grind my teeth, trying to hold in the growl that rockets up my throat. He’s definitely going to feel my wrath. “He will apologize to you on Monday,” I grit.
“Don’t,” she says. “I’m a big girl. I can face the consequences of my actions.”
“Nobody speaks to you that way,” I snarl then catch the reflection of my gaze in the side mirror and realize my eyes are glowing yellow. I draw in a deep breath to calm myself.
“You’ll just make it worse. I don’t need you to defend me. I’m fine.”
“Talk to me, Madi. Why did you leave the party?”
“It’s just been…a day. You know?” Her voice catches, and she turns to me.
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “Yeah. I’m sorry. What can I do?”
“Nothing.”
I hate how immediate and final her response is. I hate everything about the way this night is going. Instead of dropping her off at her apartment, I drive around the block to find a place to park.
“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” she says when I miraculously nab a spot a half a block away.
“Invite me up.”
“To my apartment?” She lets out an incredulous laugh. “No.”
“Then come to my place.”
That seems to unnerve her, like sleeping in my bed is far too intimate an act. “Not happening.” She flicks open the handle and uses her elbow to push the door open.
I climb out of my side and walk around. “Invite me up.”
“I have a roommate–Aubrey, remember?”
“Do you share a bed?”
Another shocked laugh tumbles from her full lips. “Brick…”
I take her hand and walk her to the apartment. “The weather sucks. I don’t want to drive back to Central Park.”
“You want to spend the night in my apartment.” She says it with a note of disbelief, like the mere idea of me staying in Brooklyn is shocking.
Maybe it is. My friends would certainly think I’d lost my mind. This is going far beyond sex with my assistant. We’re entering uncharted territory.
But the idea of letting Madi go to sleep alone tonight doesn’t sit right with me. I sense the wobble in her world, and I need to hold her through it. Do whatever I can to get her back to her beautiful center. Besides, if she’s having a melt-down around money and social status, proving I can sleep in Brooklyn without a fuss might help erase whatever beliefs she might have about the rich being assholes who step on the backs of the poor to stay on top.
She stops in front of the door and searches my face as if trying to understand. “We already had sex twice today.”
I take her keys from her hand and open the door. “I’m spending the night, Madi,” I say firmly, rather than get into a discussion about whether I do or don’t want to feast between her legs and make her scream my name all night long.
Of course, I want that. But I can keep my dick put away if that’s not what she needs.
I see the flicker of vulnerability she shows when her armor cracks, and I know I’ve won.
“It smells like paint,” she warns me. “Aubrey is painting a mural in our living room.”
“Come on,” I coax, nudging her inside and following. “Take me upstairs.”