Both the men took to the change in our little arrangement nicely, Patrick no longer feared every interaction I had with Jon, and actually started planning things with him again. My new morning routine was to bring Patrick his coffee, updates from his clients, and stay on my knees until he was finished with my mouth. Afterward, he would find something to hide under my clothes for the day. A few days ago it had been a silk rope harness under my sundress, yesterday it was nipple screws - a variant on nipple clamps that weren’t as visible under my shirt - and the word slut emblazoned on my torso in Barbie pink lipstick. My black blouse was loose and hid both of these things nicely.
After I finished with my Master, I would go upstairs to Jon’s office to do his check-in and pre-screen client requests, then he would find something special for me to do. Like sucking his cock while he was on a conference call or letting him finish on my tits before he’d send me down to reception to pick up papers or meet with someone. Patrick found this particularly amusing and encouraged it, sometimes with the added step of wearing a butt plug or a vibrator.
I loved it all, especially the newfound determination in Jon to break my bratty attitude, and Patrick’s increased sadistic impulses. Jon’s toy collection in the office went from a paddle and a handful of items to a full secret cabinet that held new floggers and whips. Most days my ass would end up covered in welts or my thigh-highs scratched to shit from crawling on the floor. What I didn’t love was that Patrick breaking my new routine to go to Tokyo for a week. An entire week, without me! I was pouty, upset, and mad that he was leaving me behind and upending the schedule that I had latched onto. I needed routine like I needed food; it kept me sane, it kept me from having to go back to therapy, and most importantly it kept me from slipping into a depressive episode. Not that they knew about any of that, I found it personal and I wasn’t willing to share that information with them yet.
“And you promise you’ll Skype?” I asked, failing to hide my disappointment.
Patrick sighed as he continued packing his luggage. “Kitten, it’s only a week.”
I clutched his duvet tightly in my hands as I spoke, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes,” he replied exasperatedly. “I promise I will Skype you. We already had this discussion.”
I keep hoping you’ll just ask me to come with you instead. “I know, I’m just going to miss you is all,” I mumbled as I gazed down at the dark gray damask pattern. I really wanted to go with him, even going so far as to ask, but it was a no go. He would be travelling around the country for pretty much the entire trip just to be in and out of meetings, and since I didn’t speak the language, I would just be relegated to the various hotel rooms.
He glanced up and visibly softened as he watched me with his warm amber eyes. “I’ll miss you too,” he said as he gestured for me to come closer.
I grinned and crawled to the foot of the bed so I could kneel and pull him in for a kiss. He tasted like strawberry jam and mimosas, which really only added in my aching heart over him leaving because now we couldn’t have breakfast together.
“Have you thought more about staying with Jon?” he asked as he pulled away, his eyes heated as his hand stroked down my naked torso.
It was my turn to sigh in exasperation. “You want me to stay with him?”
“Yes, we have plans worked out for you that I’d like to see to fruition, but I understand if you don’t want to.”
Oh. I liked that idea. “My Master and my Daddy making sinister plans?” I cooed while sliding my hands up under his loose cotton V-neck. “How could I resist?”
Patrick wrapped his arms around me and kissed the shell of my ear, a light shiver made its way up my spine at his touch. “Mm,” he agreed with a hum. “I knew Complacent Lydia was hiding in there somewhere.” I smacked his chest, not that my limp hand did much against his muscle, but he laughed and just kissed his way down my throat. “Too cute for your own good,” he murmured against me.
His mouth was warm, alright his whole body was warm, but especially his mouth on my throat. He smelled good too, the spice mixture of his aftershave and the eucalyptus body wash was a heavenly combination. I wrapped my arms around his neck and attempted to pull him down to the bed with me, he held firm despite me putting my whole body into it. His amusement was obvious and made me huff in irritation.
Patrick lifted me off the bed and I squealed, clutching at him in shock as he set me on my feet just as quickly. “Go get dressed, I’m not letting us be late this morning,” he ordered with a playful slap on my ass.
I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him as I went to find something to wear. “We weren’t late yesterday.”
“We were five minutes late!” he complained loudly.
“That’s barely anything!” I retorted with a growing smile.
I wasn’t quite living with Patrick, it was way too soon for that, but I was staying a few nights a week now, so it was easier to keep half my wardrobe here. It wasn’t my idea for my clothes to be in his closet though, that was the housekeeper’s doing.
I found my flowy, crème chiffon mini skirt, oversized forest green dress shirt, and nude Louboutin’s. I adjusted my stockings carefully; I would have loved to wear the full garter and lingerie set underneath, but I knew it would be removed quickly after we got to the office. I also wore my bracelets, which hadn’t come off in the two weeks since Patrick and I worked out our differences. My friends didn’t question it, Allie just made jokes about me being a working girl now, which, yeah, I sort of was.
I finished curling my hair and pulling it into a half up half down style before grabbing my messenger bag and meeting Patrick in the underground parking garage. I learned that he actually had three cars, despite the complete lack of necessity in a city filled with public transport, and his favourite was the pure white Porsche Taycan 4S, an electric car that was surprisingly easy to fuck around in. Especially in the driver’s seat after he would speed down an empty road outside the city at top speed to get us both an amazing adrenaline rush.
We breezed through the marble lobby with me hanging off Patrick’s arm openly, everyone knew now, and while I had heard a few nasty rumours from the co-workers that I trusted, it didn’t bother me one bit. I did worry about what it meant for him though, and on a larger scale how it might affect my future employment, but nothing had left the office and if anything a glowing reference from Jon would open more doors than a few comments from bottom feeders. The receptionist, Jessa, was one such co-worker that told me about the rumours, she greeted us happily and took Patrick’s leather jacket before we made our way up to his floor. His hand found my ass the minute the reflective doors on the elevator closed and leaned down to whisper close to my ear.
“No walking today, you can take the heels off if you need to but in both of our offices you’ll be on all fours.”
“You’ll be taking me outside for a piss too then?” I asked as I arched my eyebrow.
“No, we got you some AstroTurf instead,” he said with a wicked smirk.
I snorted with suppressed laughter and tried to compose myself before responding, “Oh, I see, you’re just trying to save company time.”
Patrick’s arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me in close, his grip tight while he kissed my hair. I let my eyes fall closed as the elevator kept climbing to the twenty-second floor, dinging quietly as it passed each level. As we stepped out, I squeezed his hand tightly before taking off toward the kitchen. I stole a glance over my shoulder to watch him saunter down the hall, his dark purple suit jacket fanning out behind him.
In the kitchen, I set the espresso machine for both the men, seeing as Jon would probably be in Patrick’s office for their Friday rendezvous. I pulled out my phone as the machine steamed and made faint hissing noises, Allie was texting me like crazy demanding either get together tonight or tomorrow, I told her I’d let her know. It was 8:37 in the morning, I didn’t want to think about going out to a bar. She also wanted to tell me all about the girl she brought home the other night, whom she was now dating for real. It was cute how excited she was, and how much they seemed to like each other. I had to wonder if part of the reason she wanted to go out was to introduce her to me. Though, it seemed a little early for that.
“So how long, Morrison?”
Startled, I glanced up at the man in front of me. Why do I still not know your name? Buzzcut, brown eyes, thin, medium height, and wearing a plain charcoal gray suit – the same man that had been in the board room when Jon fingered me under the desk. He was still unremarkable, but I saw him often enough that I really should’ve known his name. He had his beady eyes focused on me as he smirked, coffee in one hand, the other in his pocket.
“Excuse me?” I asked, confused.
He rolled his eyes and stepped towards me. “How long have you been sleeping with your meal-ticket?”
I gaped at him; my brow furrowed. Was this asshole really asking me that? “We’ve been dating for a few weeks now,” I snapped. “And maybe watch your language.”
“Or what?” he taunted. “You’re gonna have me fired?”
My blood ran cold as I scowled at him and tried to steel myself. If I told Patrick this guy was harassing me, would he fire him? Yes. I knew he would, without question, but that didn’t make this any better, especially since he would still have to pull strings to make it happen. It had to look awful from the outside - Patrick was thirty-seven, fourteen years older than me, cofounder of a corporate law office that saw an annual income of 3.76 billion, and I was less than a full year out of my undergrad, working as an assistant to him and Jon. I knew exactly what it looked like, and it could ruin my chances of having a career if it became too widely talked about. On the other hand, if we could avoid too much speculation from our colleagues then all I had to do was make it until November to find another job. November was a long while away though, and suddenly wanting to flaunt our relationship seemed like a horrible idea.
I turned around and collected the two mugs from the machine, pretending my heart wasn’t sinking at my realizations. “I think that would be more of an HR issue than a CFO issue,” I said briskly.
“We always thought it would be Harris, but I’m guessing he’s over the age limit.”
I stared straight ahead as I made my way down the cold, empty hallway. I wasn’t going to get upset, he wasn’t worth it, none of the gossipers in here were. Every step felt forceful and too loud the closer I got to Patrick’s door, I glanced around at all the other office thresholds and frowned, could they hear me? He wasn’t my boss, that was still Jon, but could the people hear my constant comings and goings? Heat burned my cheeks and I pushed those thoughts away as I tapped on his door.
Jon met me, taking the cups and ushering me inside. He looked flustered today, his hair was mused instead of meticulously groomed and swept back, it was getting a bit long as well, just brushing the tops of his ears. I’ll call the salon later; they should be able to send someone to his apartment this weekend. I quickly added it to the reminders list on my phone before pulling out the photocopies of a revised contract and set it on Patrick’s desk. Patrick himself was talking on the phone across the room in hushed tones.
I sat down in Jon’s lap as he flipped through some documents that were still warm from the printer. “What’s going on?”
“The sky is falling,” Jon said tiredly, his free hand rubbing my exposed thigh. “TMZ published an interview with several people alleging sexual assault and conspiracy claims against Goldberg and Wesson. We’re trying to do damage control before this goes any farther.”
Oh shit. “I’ll contact Charles, do you want Pauline as well?” I asked, automatically pulling my phone out.
“Pauline, yes, Charles, no - he’s in London, so he’s practically useless right now. Call Morgan Feldman, let me know when you have an ETA.”
I nodded and took off for his office, I didn’t have contact info for Morgan, but I knew Jon would. I hadn’t heard about Morgan since we went to Plaisir, and while I had known that he was a lawyer the things that I heard weren’t favourable. He had a reputation for ‘doing what he had to do’ which was bribe, borrow, or steal depending on what he needed. Bower & Rosing’s had enough eyes watching them that I thought this was more than just a bad idea, it was a catastrophe waiting to happen.
The sky falling didn’t even begin to cover the shitstorm that was my day. It was embarrassing to wait on Morgan and the other men hand and foot, even more so when Jon asked me to grab us all lunch and I was forced to take his order like a waitress. Overall, we were in the office for a thirteen-hour shift, most of which was spent on the phone. Patrick was supposed to be on his plane at 9:30 that night, it took me and Jon arguing with him for nearly twenty-five minutes before Patrick finally caved and agreed to get on as planned.
I twisted my hair up into a messy bun as I slouched on the leather couch, my heels laid on the floor and my feet ached. Stress had gotten to the guys and they had quickly taken me aside twice for blowjobs, I didn’t mind, it kind of helped me relax a bit as well. Patrick’s hair was stringy from sweat, his suit jacket was on the couch beside me, his shirt sleeves rolled up, tie loose and two buttons undone. I had never seen him so tired.
I padded across the room to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, my head resting on his back. “Are you going to be alright?” I asked finally.
“Oh, kitten, I’ve been through worse,” he replied with a faint chuckle. “I’m going to sleep very well on the plane. How are you holding up?”
“Tired,” I mumbled. “Very tired, ready to go home…”
“Are you coming home with me tonight or are you going back to Queens?” Jon asked, startling me and Patrick.
I glanced from one to the other, debating my options. “I guess there’s really no reason I need to back to Queens,” I replied. Patrick smiled and kissed my forehead, my stomach fluttered with girlish excitement as I gazed up at him. “You’ll call me when you land?”
“Of course,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up. I giggled as I kissed him, my hands twisting in his hair. He set me down after a moment and bent down, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke, “I love you, I’m going to miss you a lot, and I’m sorry I was grumpy with you this morning.”
Oh, Patrick. “Don’t apologize; I was just upset that you didn’t want to bring me. But I’m going to miss you too,” I whispered, holding his face in my hands.
Jon and I walked him down to the parking garage, my heart painfully tight as I watched him get into his Porsche and pull away. I hated how dependent I was on him, I felt like I was addicted again after only a week sober. But I hated even more that I would’ve done whatever he asked me to.
After the car disappeared, Jon linked his arm through mine and led me over to the waiting Maybach Pullman. He looked…invigorated was the only word for it, like he had gotten an adrenaline rush from having his day turned upside down. And honestly, he probably had, that man might have liked beating my ass, but he certainly had a masochistic side when it came to working.
“You know, I haven’t been past the foyer at your apartment,” I said quietly, my head resting on his shoulder.
“You won’t get the grand tour until tomorrow I’m afraid,” he told me with a sideways glance, a devious grin spreading across his face. “You’ll be too preoccupied.”
Fire spread across my skin at the deep, seductive sound of his voice, his glacial eyes glittering under the passing streetlights. I didn’t care what he planned to do to me, as long as he thoroughly used and debased me it would be a good night.