A Secret Love Affair

Chapter Nine

(Emily)

Hot water sprayed against my still sensitive flesh. I was late. If I kept this up, I was certain to lose my job ...which was something I could not afford right now. Even before hopping into the shower, I’d seen that Peter had called four times already. It was barely nine am. What on earth could be so important this damn early?

After last night, a shower was the one thing I knew I could not skip. The last thing I needed was to show up at work smelling of s*x. That would certainly get the office gossips tongues wagging. 

“How’s the water?” His voice, smooth has honey, spoke. I flinched. I couldn’t help it. I hadn’t heard him come in. 

“Marshall? The hell!” I cried, “Are you trying-?”

My cries of indignation were muffled by his lips moving to cover mine. His fingers twisted my dripping locks between tight fingers. I whimpered, tiny jolts of electricity travelling down the length of my spine. He was a good deal taller than me so I settled with placing my palms against his chest even though what I really wanted was to bury them in HIS hair. 

My back hit the shower wall. I knew what was coming ...and I was powerless to stop it. A tiny warning popped in the back of my brain, the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom registering just moments before he lifted me clear off my feet. At that moment in time, I could care less.

He wasn’t gentle. He moved against me with such ferocity, I was sure I would break. I didn’t. I clung to him, nails digging into the tops of his shoulders. He didn’t try to smother my cries.. The world fell away, leaving only his animalistic grunts of pleasure echoing against the side of my face.

“Marshall!” I whimpered. 

His lips found mine again. Freeing one hand from my hair, it found its way to the base of my neck. I didn’t panic like most women would. I trusted him. Maybe that was naive. Maybe I was just fooling myself into thinking this was anything other than s*x to him. No words were spoken. He seemed to know exactly what to do to him in order to turn me to mush.

My back arched from the shower wall. I was close. He was to. Somehow, we managed to stumble from the shower. It didn’t seem to matter to him that the shower was still on. I ended up bent over the sink, feet barely touching the floor, my face contorting into a mix of both pleasure and pain.

“We-we should do this more often…” He growled, teeth nipping at my neck, “I love the look on your face when I f**k you.”

I blinked. This was the first time he’d spoken like that since we’d started this little affair. Was...dirty talk something he was into? I wasn’t sure how I felt about it but, from the way my body responded, maybe it was something I also enjoyed. 

“Ah...fuck…” His words were more forceful growl than actual speech. His hands moved to my hips, holding me in place until he’d drained every drop of himself. We both stood there a moment, gathering our senses. When I could move away, I playfully shoved him away.

“Now I need another shower.” I moved towards the shower. He seemed intent on following. “Ah. No. You wait your turn.”

After showering, and dressing, I gave Marshall a quick peck on the lips before exiting his apartment. Luckily, no one in his building knew I worked for him. The doorway gave me a knowing wink but said nothing. My cheeks turned to fire. I could only imagine what he must be thinking.

I was a solid two hours late for work by the time I stumbled into the office. Marshall wasn’t far behind...far enough for no one to suspect that the two of us had spent yet another night together. Peter stood by my desk, foot tapping impatiently and a scowl on his pudgy little face.

“Damnit, Emily. You are late. Again.” He shook his head, “Keep this up and I’ll have to reconsider your position at this firm.”

I didn’t want this job. Hell, I hated coming into work every single day. I dreaded it even. Peter was one of those reasons. But I had bills to pay so my options were limited. I’d considered going back to school but funds were an issue. That and the fact I had NO idea what to do with my life. I wasn’t getting any younger.

So, I bit my tongue. Instead of saying what I really wanted to say, I muttered a quick apology. I could feel the heat of Marshall’s stare. But, as promised, he did not intervene. He could not make it appear as if he was granting me some special favors. That would get the two of us nowhere. Even if he was a partner, if HR were to hear about him having an affair when someone at the office, they could make life very difficult for the both of them. Interoffice relationships were frowned upon.

Now, if Marshall had been here for as long as Peter had, perhaps he would have some extra freedom to do as he pleased. Hell, Peter certainly seemed to have a lot of leeway when it came to his behaviour that often times ventured on the edge of inappropriate.

The day went by without incident. Marshall had been gone for sometime now. I was the last to leave the building, as usual. Or so I thought. I didn’t notice Peter until he popped up behind me. 

“Emily.” He spoke.

“Oh sh-” I began to curse, hand flying to my chest. “Jesus, Peter. Give a girl a little warning next time!” I began to gather my belongings.

“We need to talk Emily.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, “Can’t this wait? I’ve had a long day.” I muttered.

He stepped closer. I gagged. He reeked of cheap booze and cigars. He’d been drinking and it was barely nine o’clock. “I see the way you look at me…” His hand reached out to touch me. I recoiled. He did not like this at all. Anger flashed in his dark eyes. His fingers curled around my wrist, forcing me closer, “Ah, come on. Give an old man a chance, will ya?”

“You’re drunk!” I spat. 

The palm of his hand connected with the side of my face. I reeled back, startled. I palmed my wounded cheek. “Peter-”

His face flushed. “Ah, s**t. Emily…” He stammered, “I’m sorry.” His words were slurred.

“I’m...I’m leaving.” I spoke, hastily attempting to put some distance between myself and the clearly unstable Peter. I’d heard rumors that he’d attempted this sort of thing but I’d never believed him. I’d thought even a lecher like him would have boundaries. He clearly didn’t.

“Come on, have a drink with me!” He slurred, reaching for me again.

“I think you’ve had enough for the both of us.” I replied, doing my best not to enrage him further. I needed to get out of there. Now. “I’m leaving.” I repeated, slowly backing away from him.

His hand snatched out, fingers gripping my braid as I turned my back. He forced me back. “You’re not leaving until I f*****g say so.”

(Hope ya'll enjoy the new update.)