After dealing with Bobbi, Marcus is looking for help.
Tuesday, 8:00 am
My alarm pulled me directly out of a REM cycle with the noisy jingle of some factory-made generic tune, and I was in no mood to put up with its bullshit. Fingers blindly searched the side table beside the bed to find my phone; once they’d located it, I swiped at the area on the screen that would turn off the alarm completely.
I was in a strange bedroom. My eyes were still closed, but there were other signs including the feel of an unfamiliar pillow under my head, the lack of noisy air conditioning, and the faint smell of whatever they used in hotel rooms to make them smell new mingled with a flowery scent. Confused, I started working through the mind fog to put the pieces together of what happened the previous day. I’d been to YPV. I bought the office space. Ashlee had tried to seduce me. Helen and I fucked in an office. Gina… I think I told her she sucked and then fired her. Then I gave her job to Natalie. Then I met up with Bobbi.
Oh.
Bobbi.
Bobbi’s beautiful face swam into focus in my mind, her features twisted in contempt and horny desperation. Everything came flooding back into memory. We fought. We struggled, and in the end, she submitted to me. I couldn’t believe what had happened. What we’d done. A part of me felt a little ill as I played over some of the more sordid details.
A body stirred next to me, and I finally opened my eyes, dreading who I would find laying in bed with me. Sure enough Bobbi Nanford was laying in bed next to me, her light brown hair a tangled mess all over her pillow and covering half her face. Her mascara was still a mess from our rough night, and she’d gotten it all over her pillow. Her eyes were still closed, as she feigned sleep, but something about the way she laid made me suspect she was awake.
And for some reason, that pissed me off.
Fortunately, we’d fallen asleep closer to her side of the bed. I rolled onto my side, I slid my feet up the bed between the two of us, positioned them right next to Bobbi, and shoved. She yelped as her eyes shot open, and her arms flailed uselessly as she was launched off the side of the bed. I was rewarded with a thud and a squeal of protest as her body hit the floor.
“Motherfucker!”
I simply rolled over on my back, put my arms behind my head, and stretched under the sheets. “Get the fuck out of my hotel room, Bobbi.”
There was silence for a long moment, then I heard her clamber to her feet. I wanted to look over at her to see what she was doing but didn’t want to break the illusion of being apathetic toward her.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Home? I don’t care. You just can’t stay here.”
“You turned off my phone and my card won’t work,” she whined. “How the fuck am I supposed to get home?”
She was silent for a long time. The amount of self control I had to muster to not look over at her was staggering, but I managed to keep up appearances. Finally, she said, “Do I still have a job?”
I thought about it for a moment. “If you want it, but you don’t have to go in today. I’ll clear it with your boss. Now get out.”
She didn’t move, and I could hear her sniffling. I sighed and rolled over to look at her, trying to figure her out. Bobbi hated me, so I was surprised as hell that she would rather stay in my hotel room than walk back to her house. Now that I owned her house, I knew just how far a walk like that was, but still… Bobbi really hated me. Was her life really that bad that she had no one she could call to come get her? Had she burned that many bridges in her life? I was curious, but not enough to actually ask about her situation and give her the impression I cared.
“How would you like to stay here instead of that tiny box you call a house?”
Bobbi was sitting on the edge of the bed, her purse next to her. Her little black dress was wrinkled and still twisted around her body, looking very much like she’d just slept in it. Combined with the ruined makeup and the large love bite I’d left on her neck, she looked a little rough. She simply stared back at me without answering.
“Tell you what,” I said, returning to laying on my back and closing my eyes. “Suck me off, and I’ll take it as a sign that you agree to everything we discussed last night. You can stay here till I can figure out what to do with you. You’ll get the card I promised you before I leave, and I’ll have a driver provided for you so you can get whatever you need. You’ve got one minute to make up your mind or we’re done.”
Moments passed and then I felt movement on the bed and the sheets slid off me. Her movements indicated that she was crawling down and between my legs. There was a pause. “You said I could take the week to decide.”
“I changed my mind,” I said, eyes still closed. “Thirty seconds.”
I felt her small fingers wrap around the base of my cock, already sporting the hardness all males are typically cursed with when we first wake up. She stroked the base gently, and I could feel her warm breath on the head. Fifteen seconds left.
I groaned as I felt her engulf half my prick in one fluid movement. The wet warmth of her mouth was exquisite. I could feel her tongue press against the underside of my shaft as she started working the length in and out of her mouth with a slow deliberateness that was driving me crazy. She’d only taken half my dick in her mouth though. I wanted more.
As her head dipped down until the head of my dick to hit the back of her throat, I placed my hand on top of her covered head and stopped her from coming up. “Nuh-uh,” I said, applying just enough pressure to deliver the message of what I wanted. She hesitated, and then I felt her start to force more of my cock into her mouth, feeling the mushroom head squeeze into the narrow passage of her throat.
I opened my eyes and looked down at the women between my legs. Bobbi Nanford looked up at me with bright, grey eyes and glared as her lips stretched around the girth of my penis. Then she gave a coughing gag and tried to back off of my cock. My hand on the back of her head prevented it. Tears from choking on my member were already forming at the corners of her mascara-smeared eyes as I kept myself in her throat just a few moments longer. Then I slid my hand down from the top of her head and she immediately pulled back up to cough. A single tear rolled down her cheek and I brushed it away with a thumb as she sucked down oxygen.
“God, you’re beautiful, Bobbi.”
And then she did the last thing I would have expected from her. She smiled.
Smile was too strong of a word. There was a brief flicker of something passing over her features that resembled a moment where my words affected her in some sort of positive way. I would have missed it if I hadn’t been admiring her so closely. Bobbi had essentially been coerced into deep-throating me, yet one single comment about how pretty she was had been enough to spark a moment of joy. How broken was this woman?
Or was she manipulating me?
I guided her mouth back to my dick, and she gave no resistance as her lips connected to my sensitive member once more. Releasing her, I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the pillow, letting her set the pace as I enjoyed the experience of having Bobbi Nanford suck me off.
Who would have thought such a thing would happen?
Tuesday, 10:05 am
“Thank you, Terrance,” I said as my driver opened the door for me, and I stepped out of the car. Terrance shut the door behind me, and in that moment I felt like I needed a suit to make the image complete. I’d worn all my nicest clothes since finding out about the money, but they weren’t the kind of clothes you’d find on someone who just bought a company. Perhaps on the west coast, where millionaires wore shorts, graphic t-shirts, and sandals, but New York had standards. Besides… there was something really nice about walking around in a well-fitted suit. Currently, the nicest clothes I had consisted of something I would wear to a church service at Christmas or Easter.
“Have a good one, sir,” Terrance said before returning to the driver’s seat. He’d been the one to drop me off last night at Solomon’s Palace where I met Bobbi. He’d been a complete professional during the entire trip to Marduke, but I kept getting the feeling that he knew more about my night than he was letting on and was giving me some kind of mental high-five for getting lucky last night. It wasn’t like he could have known what Bobbi and I had ended up doing, so I chalked it up to the fact that my overactive imagination was making me sense things that just weren’t there. Regardless, I liked Terrance, and I enjoyed being driven around New York. Maybe I could ask Helen about bringing him on as my chauffeur. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about random drivers from YPV knowing where I was going.
I gave Terrance a wave as he drove away and turned to look at the building I’d just purchased. Upon buying it, I learned that it was called the Dunbar, named after the man who had originally built it. With forty-five floors, the Dunbar building held several businesses. Marduke alone took stories five through seven, but aside from Marduke, my building also housed insurance firms, lawyers, investors, and a few boutiques. The ground floor held the lobby and security for accessing the secured elevator, as well as a stylist, a restaurant specializing in sushi and other Asian fare, and an empty space recently vacated by the smoothie shop that occupied it for the past three years. I made a mental note to look into getting a coffee shop in this location so the residents didn’t have to leave the building to get something besides shitty office coffee.
After meeting with Natalie and Bobbi yesterday, I’d been informed that the top floor of the office was empty, and upon discussing it with Helen, we agreed to make it my office for the foreseeable future. She’d sent me a text on the way here telling me that’s where she would arrange for the personal assistant interviews.
Andrew was downstairs and gave me a very professional fistbump, which was a nice change of pace compared to Terrance and the entire hotel staff, who treated me like royalty. “Morning, sir. Did you find everything satisfactory yesterday?” Unlike Terrance, there was nothing subtle about his smirk, and I had no reason to question whether he knew anything or if it was just my imagination. He obviously knew I’d gotten up to some sort of shenanigans yesterday, but I wasn’t sure if the question was about the offices or if it was a nuanced question regarding one of the women I’d met with yesterday. How much did he know? Was privacy no longer a thing?
“Um… yeah,” I said, eyeing him as I pushed the button to call the restricted elevator. I decided to play it safe and assume he meant the offices. “Everything was great. Is Helen already here?”
“Yes sir,” Andrew said, that glint in his eye not quite disappearing. “Three others signed in as well. Henry is escorting one of them up right now.”
“Oh good,” I said. “Thanks.”
Sure enough, when the elevator doors opened, Henry walked out and gave me a nod, “Sir.” Either he didn’t know as much as Andrew or he had a better poker face.
“Alright. See you guys later,” I said as I scanned my card and the elevator doors closed.
When I exited the elevator on my floor, I was greeted by Helen, who stood to my left in a large, furnished lobby. She looked as magnificent as ever dressed in a dark pants suit. The jacket was buttoned, but the lapels crossed over just under her breasts, and whatever she was wearing underneath the jacket plunged low enough that only a hint of it the creamy fabric peered where the lapels met, which allowed for a generous amount of cleavage that fell just on the right side of tasteful. She really knew how to dress to impress me while managing to refrain from getting in trouble. Had I not been serviced by Bobbi after my alarm went off, I’d have been seriously tempted to send everyone else away and take her to my office for a private meeting.
Andrew was right though. Helen wasn’t the only one in the lobby. To my right was a couch with three people sitting on it. I started to suspect this was why Andrew had actually been smirking so much. They were all women. Not only were they all women, but they were all heart-stoppingly gorgeous women.
The one sitting on the left side of the couch and furthest away from me looked to be in her mid 30’s with auburn hair in luxurious layers that could have only been achieved by a stylist who charged hundreds of dollars. She had piercing blue eyes, pale, porcelain skin, and wore a skirt that stopped right at the knee and showed off incredible legs. Her lips were stained a dark crimson, and she wore heavy mascara. She looked like a woman you could find on your arm at any cocktail party, and my immediate reaction was to think, ‘that’s the one. The rest can go home.’
That would have been premature.
The second was a young woman who appeared in her early twenties. She was small and slender with a bronzed olive skin, eyes so dark they were almost black, and lips painted a shade darker than her complexion. Her hair was silver with a light tinge of violet throughout. Her features were elfin and sharp and she wore a conservative dress that went to her mid-calf. It showed off just enough curves to give me an idea of what she looked underneath while leaving a lot to the imagination. I fell in love twice in the span of a minute.
The one sitting nearest to me was Caucasian, but her complexion gave me the impression that her ancestors were Italian or Mediterranean. She looked to be around thirty, with deep, rich dark brown hair, and brown eyes. She’d come dressed in slacks and a blouse that plunged into a deep V that showed off a generous amount of cleavage from breasts that were easily the largest in the room. All three were giving me radiant smiles that could cause palpitations, but number three caught her plush bottom lip between her teeth and looked me up and down as if looking at a nice cut of steak.
Fuck. These were the candidates Helen had gathered? I wanted them all.
“Ladies, if you’ll stay there, I’ll call you in individually for the interview,” Helen said before I’d had a chance to say anything. I felt her presence just behind my left shoulder and turned to look at her. She gave me an equally dazzling smile, “Mr. Upton, if you’ll come with me. Do you need anything before we get started?”
I smiled back at her, enjoying this facade of formality between us. “Yeah, actually. Could I get a coffee?”
“Yes sir,” Helen said as she turned and headed toward the office. I followed, glancing over my shoulder at the three stunning women on the couch.
As soon as I entered the office and shut the door, Helen pressed me against the door and leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss that lasted for a good minute. Her well-manicured fingers massaged my pectorals as our tongues dueled. When she parted she gave a little hum and smiled up at me, “Did I do well, Marcus?”
“Huh?” I thought she’d meant the kiss for a moment, then it clicked that she was referring to the candidates. “Oh the girls? Jesus Helen. Where did you find them?”
“Women,” she corrected me, then gave me another searing kiss to take the sting out of the correction. “I have a cultivated list of candidates for in-house as well as for clients. The younger one is actually one of Ashlee’s friends from college.”
I let my hands wander down her back and to her ass, palming and massaging her firm cheeks. “You know, I was actually prepared to ask you what you thought about making Bobbi an assistant.”
Helen shook her head before I’d even finished my sentence, “That’s a horrible idea, Marcus. You want someone you can trust to have your best interest in mind. I only met Bobbi briefly, but I can already tell she’s lazy, entitled, and doesn’t have a fraction of the brilliance that those three have.”
Helen had just confirmed my suspicions, so I wasn’t exactly broken up about it. God only knew what kind of things Bobbi would do if she had access to my personal information, or my coffee and food.
Helen continued, “I’ve already interviewed and vetted all three of them. I originally had seven possible candidates, but narrowed it down last night. I promise, Marcus… the one you want is sitting on that couch right now.”
“I believe you,” I said as I glanced in their general direction as if I could see them through the wall. “Can I have them all?”
She laughed and stepped back from me, “If you’d like, but I suggest maybe one assistant for now. I’m sure opportunities will arise for others as time goes on. And I’m positive any of them would be willing for a non-professional encounter if you wished. As I said, I’ve vetted them thoroughly.” There was a LOT of implication there, but she moved on before I could ask for details.
“Please remember Marcus… despite their obvious charms, these women aren’t like your little plaything from last night. These women are all well-credentialed with high IQs. They’re competent assets to be valued. Not something for you to simply enjoy for a little while and then move on.”
“Wait. Are you talking about a relationship?”
“Kind of. I’m not talking about love or anything like that. I’ve already made my thoughts on that clear. What I’m talking about is a relationship of mutual goals. One that is professional where needed and extra-professional where appropriate. Like you and I have. You could treat them badly, and I could always find more, but I think you would be stabbing yourself in the foot if you operated that way. Respect these women and you will develop quite possibly one of the most valuable relationships you will ever experience.”
Two things shocked me.
One was how a woman who had clearly gotten off on the way I’d treated Bobbi was now telling me that I should treat my assistant with respect. Not that I had any intention of handling one of Helen’s candidates like I had Bobbi, but her recommendation felt irreconcilable with what I’d seen yesterday.
The other thing was how she referred to them as assets. That one should have shocked me less, but it was just so different from the way I thought of people. Those women had lives, family, hopes, and dreams. I would have never considered using the word ‘asset’ to describe any of them. Clearly Helen wasn’t used to thinking of individuals the same way I did. It made me wonder if that’s how she saw me - as nothing more than an asset. It made me wonder yet again just how much I could actually trust her.
‘Bobbi also has a life… and hopes and dreams,’ I thought to myself.
“Of course,” I said as I rounded the office desk, taking note of the three resumes laying on its surface. “You don’t have to worry about that, Helen.”
“Don’t be so sure. Power corrupts, Marcus. It’s not just a cute Lord Acton quote. I’ve seen it first hand.” She turned, walked to the door, and placed her hand on the knob, “Don’t get me wrong… I’m not opposed to a little corruption. Just be smart about it.”
I nodded as I sat down in the chair, “I promise. I’ll be smart. Especially with you helping me.”
She looked over her shoulder and studied me for a long moment as if weighing my answer. “Good,” she said, then opened the door.
“Helen,” I said. She paused and looked back at me.
“I can trust you, right?”
The smile she threw at me seemed so sincere and full of warmth. “Your check cleared, Marcus. Of course you can.”
And then she slipped out the door and closed it behind her, leaving me to wonder exactly what [i]that[/b] meant.