Marquise
Page 9
“I am fine, mama. How are you and dad?”
“Oh, you know your father. He takes his job very seriously.” I chuckle, knowing she is right. When they became our parents, my mother was a nurse and my father was the mayor of Chicago. She became a homemaker almost immediately, and within two years my father became governor and has held that position ever since. “When are you going to come and see me? You know I need my weekly dose, or I start becoming a mama bear.” she laughs as she says it, though I know she is being real. I have seen her be overbearing, and though we loved it at first none of us ever having had it, we quickly began to see it for what it is, a bit much.
“Soon mama. I promise. I just… have a little... jewel I need to take care of first. Okay?” I am doing my best to give her as much information as I can without telling her too much, causing her to ask too many more questions.
“Sounds good my son. I…” Beep, Beep. My other line begins to cut in and I see it is my office manager, Ingrid.
“I have to go mom. I promise, I will call you soon. Love you.” I hurry and click over hoping she is here. “Ingrid.”
“You mind opening the door. I know I create miracles for you, but I by no means am able to go through doors.” She is a pain in my ass. Especially, since my mom has somehow become her new favorite confidante. I am not expecting this errand to remain a secret for long. Walking over to my wall and hitting the buzzer, letting the gate open so she can come into the driveway. As I walk to the front door to open it, I see Chrissy is already downstairs sitting on the window seat looking out into the yard. My heart dies a bit more knowing something is bothering her.
“Chrissy, I would like for you to meet my office manager…”
“And sometimes errand girl. Don’t forget that. Hi, my name is Ingrid.” She extends her hand and smiles at my girl. I see Chrissy look at me, her eyes conveying questions and surprise. The last one is a bit confusing for me, but I will address it a bit later.
“Ingrid has been gracious enough to bring over some clothes, sent by a designer client of ours for you to try on. You need attire to go well anywhere, and a few things to please me. I will leave you two for a bit, while I make some calls.” Walking further into her space, which is being generous since nothing about her belongs to her anymore. My arms go around her waist and pull her into me.
“If you need me, Goddess, I will be a buzzer away. Understand?” she lowers her head and shrugs her shoulders. Every nerve inside me begins to beat. The alpha in me needs confirmation. Obedience. Never mind the fact that we have an audience. Lifting her chin with a finger under it, I force her to look at me. “I need words, baby. Answer me with words.” I arch my eyebrow, so she knows I mean business. She bites her lip as her chest begins to move up and down.
“Yes, Marquise. I understand,” she whispers.
“Good girl,” I say before kissing her lips and walking to my office.
I have no clue how long I spend going over contracts and paperwork. My mind is not following any of it, as I wonder how my Goddess is doing right now. Giving up, I walk up the stairs and hear muffled voices and giggles as the two of them obviously are finding their stride.
“What’s so funny?” I ask walking in and almost tripping over my feet. She is standing before me, facing a mirror in nothing but a pink sheer bra and panty set. Her nipples are swollen and peeking out. Teasing me, coaxing me to feast upon them. Her eyes encompassed in arrogance and a bit of confidence I haven’t seen her show since I rescued her. I like... No fuck that. I love it.
“Ingrid, we need a moment,” I say in a voice I don’t recognize. It's deep, commanding, and unapologetic. It's filled with an overwhelming need to touch and consume the beauty before me. I want to become the only thing she can see, feel, and taste. Starting now.
Ingrid walks out, knowing me enough to know that my voice brokers no argument. I don’t even see her as she leaves the room quietly and without a word. My eyes haven't left the sugar cube starring me in the face. She is standing in front of my balcony door. The sun shines behind her, causing a glow to illuminate every decadent delicious translucent inch of her. Sitting on the couch, I unbutton my sleeves and spread my legs. My arms are laid out against the back. I can see some of her confidence slipping as she begins to wonder if she somehow did something wrong.