Chapter 31 – Paris upsets Mal with her actions and her hand

“Paris? Paris, is that you?”

I’d recognize that deep baritone anywhere. Hearing it here on the morning train though is completely unexpected and makes me spin around with a shocked look on my face. As I feared, that’s Darnell smiling as he stands in the center of the train car holding onto a grab strap. I’m already in my new ‘Perky Paris’ mode, as I take my seat sitting upright with my breasts and ass pushed out, but I kick my internal motor into gear and put my smile on, “Hiya Darnell! I didn’t know you took the train into work?”

Darnell walks up as the train leaves my station and stats taking us toward the loop. Once he’s standing next to me and smiling he keeps our conversation going, “I do, although it’s not normally this train. My sister and her son live out in Cicero. I babysit occasionally and that includes some overnights while she’s working a double. In those cases, I bring a fresh suit and just take the train in. Do you live around here? At Damen?”

My smile falters a bit as I’d really rather have as few people in the office know where I live but without another reason why I’d be out here at five in the morning, I shrug and nod. “Yeah, my apartment is close to the station so that makes it easy to get to and from work. I’m just steps away!”

I see Darnell’s eyes flick upward as if he’s looking at some internal calendar before he returns his gaze to me and asks, “Hey, didn’t you go out with Malachi last night? I thought you were staying the night in his apartment. Don’t tell me he got out of bed and drove you to your apartment this early!”

Already knowing that I’m going to have to text Mal this story, so he knows it before he gets into the office, I say the first thing that comes to mind, “Oh, we did go out and we stayed in his apartment. But after a couple hours of sleep, I wanted all of my, um, like, makeup and stuff, so I got an Uber back here.”

Darnell chuckles as if he’s heard this before, “Ah, so he hasn’t set up a whole vanity for you yet? I remember the last girl he was taking to his love nest regularly had half of her stuff there. Don’t be surprised if he asks you to keep a few outfits and extra makeup and soaps and that girly stuff over there. Last I heard, he likes to wake up next to his girls. Call him sentimental!”

I **** a giggle as Darnell chuckles harder, although the idea of Mal being sentimental really IS laughable. As soon as we get off the train, I make a bee line to the women’s room in the lobby where I can grab a stall and text Mal what happened. I don’t get an immediate reply but have no idea if that’s a good thing or not.

It’s not.

When Mal comes in, he completely ignores his cuppa and calls me in. As soon as he steps in the office, he slams the door shut behind me. He doesn’t even wait until he’s paced back to his desk or is facing me before he begins his tirade, “Fuck Paris what the hell were you thinking!? You went back for your fucking lipstick? So, you’re basically telling one of the managers in marketing that I don’t take care of my girl. Is that what you wanted to do? To put me in a bad light, like a bad boyfriend?”

I take a step back toward the door in response to Mal’s ferocity. When he looks up at me pointedly, I stammer a bit, having no idea what I could say to make this any better, especially as I didn’t know why it could possibly be this bad, “Umm, no. No, Mal I didn’t mean to, to, make you look, like, bad or anything. It was just the first thing I thought of. And it’s, like, it’s Darnell. He’s, like, you know, nice. He won’t think bad of you.”

Mal leans forward and plants his fists onto his desktop before tilting his head up to glare at me. His voice has gone quiet, which may sound better than his shouting, but I know means he’s forcing himself to be under control. It means he’s getting angrier. “Oh, so that makes up for it then. Darnell is nice. He won’t tell anybody. No one else will hear about you NOT being in my bed. Think Paris, THINK! All he has to do is mention that he saw you on the train to his girlfriend or someone else in his department, and they’re going to blab it around to everybody else. They’ll all be able to make up their mind and some, most, will think that I’m not a considerate lover and that you’re just another WHORE!”

I try to take another step back but am stopped by bumping into the door itself. At the same time, I blink several times as the idea strikes me… is Mal worried about my reputation? Is being a slutty secretary that sleeps over with a married man somehow better than one who doesn’t spend the whole night there?

With his head shaking Mal lifts one of his fists and punches the desktop hard enough that his monitor shakes and almost falls off the desk. “FUCK. Well, that’s that then. I won’t risk both of our reputations being stained because of your incompetence. We won’t be faking going out on our Wednesday night dates anymore. Get out.”

I don’t wait for another invite before turning, opening the door, stepping outside, and closing the door behind me. After taking a moment to let my heart slow down I take my seat and get the day going. An hour later when Mal comes out to request some files from central storage, it’s as if the storm cloud never circled his head this morning.

All seems well but I’m still walking on eggshells, trying my best to not ruffle Mal’s feathers. When I finally have all the files together and organized for him, I bring them into his office. He’s on the phone, so I quietly close the door and approach his desk showing him the pile of files before I set them down. Instead of the nod I expect which means I’m fine to leave, Mal holds up a finger toward me and speaks into the handset, “Excuse me everybody I’m going to step off the call, but I’ll be right back.”

With a quick jab Mal hits mute and sets the handset down on the desk. I’m a little taken aback as he pushes his seat back and pats his lap, “Come on, sit down. I’m going to be on this call for awhile and I might need you to take notes. Chop chop!”

The idea of sitting in Mal’s lap is getting easier as he rarely does anything other than hold me tightly to his chest, but it’s not my favorite thing and I certainly don’t relish the idea of sitting in his lap for the better part of an hour while he’s on a group phone call. He’ll be listening to what’s going on and unless he puts it on speaker, I’ll just be sitting in his lap doing nothing. But then again, I don’t want to see what it will take to bring his rage back, so I quickly gather up a steno pad and a pen and take my seat on his lap.

Over the next ten minutes I’m busier than I thought I’d be. Mal has a simple way of indicating I’m to note what he’s saying. He simply pats my hip with the hand that’s holding me on his lap. Or rather, he gives my hip a light spank as it’s more than a simple pat. Either way when he does that I straighten up, let him hold me tighter so I have both hands, and start taking notes. He’s very good at repeating what is said on the line so I can get almost the entire conversation. When he delivers another pat or spank, he’s done with the notes, and I either wait with the pad and pen in my own lap or wrap my arm back around his neck for additional stability.

With this system in place, it seems that we’re going to get along smoothly, even if I’m rather bored when not taking notes. The problem starts with the pen. As I’m writing out the current figures for the second quarter growth, easily seeing that M&A is holding its own among all the departments, the pen starts to run out of ink. My notes get messy as I have to write everything twice and sometimes three times just to get enough ink to flow.

This time the spank to my hip is welcome as I know I’ll have a few minutes to fix the pen problem. Looking at Mal, I can see that he’s actively listening to the call. I don’t dare interrupt him for something simple unless I can’t solve it. I know Mal has extra pens in his desk drawer, but he’s pulled the chair forward enough that I’m actually blocking that drawer from opening. Turning, I look at Mal’s desktop and see that he has a pen near his monitor stand. It’s a long reach for me, but for once my long nails might come in useful as I believe I’ll barely be able to reach it.

Slowly I move my left hand to Mal’s abdomen for a little extra balance while I lean to the right and over the desktop. I have to lean all the way onto my right hip, putting Mal’s hand completely between me and his thigh but it gives me just enough room for my fingernail to drag on the pen. It was perfect. Almost.

Just as I pull the pen forward enough so that I can pick it up and try returning to position, it happens. I’m not sure if my position pushes Mal’s chair backward, if Mal pushes himself back, or if I just lose balance and in trying to recover end up pushing the chair back. After what happens though, it’s not important as regardless what causes it, Mal’s chair starts to roll backward away from the desk. Away from my stability. Refusing to make any noise I quickly stiffen up and try to get my right arm onto the desktop so that I can use that leverage to push myself upright back fully onto Mal’s lap. But just as I do that, Mal’s hand slips out from under my hip and grips my waist. In that moment I go from a precarious balance barely sitting on Mal’s lap to having no balance and only Mal’s hand on my waist stopping me from falling awkwardly to the floor.

I try not to flail about as Mal slowly pulls me upward, all while still holding the phone’s handset to his ear and carrying on the conversation, but at one moment I feel like even his strength isn’t going to be enough to hold me upright so I grip with my left hand, hoping to get Mal’s tie or shirt or maybe even his belt as my hand as moved down a bit. That movement, along with one of my legs kicking out straight in another attempt at leverage, evidently pushes Mal out of balance as his hand on my waist suddenly grips me like an iron clamp and he roughly and quickly pulls me up against his chest. Much like I’d trapped Mal’s hand under my hip while leaning over, Mal’s quick uprighting of my body has trapped my left hand between us. But before I can even figure out what is where Mal spanks my right hip, hard. I let out a quiet yelp and position my steno pad on my leg while writing with the new pen in my right hand. Now I’m taking down goals for the remainder of the quarter, with specific sets for each division as well as each department.

The ink is flowing much better in this pen so my note taking has returned to normal. While keeping up I try to get my left hand free but between my bracelets and the two rings I’m wearing I’m quite jammed on my skirt and Mal’s pants. I try wiggling my fingers and pushing with them to literally walk my hand out of its tight spot when I feel it. Right under my palm something swells. And throbs.

I have no idea what I thought I might be touching, but my mind never went to the right answer. Instead, I just kept wiggling my hand, yanking it forward and back, all while still taking down the notes that Mal is saying. It’s Mal’s voice that clues me in. He’s pausing more as he speaks, and his voice grows a little more husky. And it’s during one pause that I feel the throb again, timed exactly with Mal’s voice cutting out and him swallowing.

His cock. My hand is on his cock. And for the last few minutes I’ve been manipulating my hand, pressing down on it, gripping it, and rubbing it which must feel like….

My thoughts and fears are confirmed when Mal puts the phone’s mouthpiece to his chest, leans into my ear and says in an obviously aroused voice, “Keep playing, just watch your nails!”

My head snaps to look directly at Mal’s face but he’s already pulled the phone back up to his mouth and has rejoined the conversation, looking off into the distance. Another spank reminds me that he’s still giving me numbers to take down, so I flip the steno pad’s sheet over and start taking notes again. When I feel Mal throb under my left hand again. Not wanting to encourage him, I leave my hand still, trying to arouse him as little as possible.

A few moments after this bit of notes are done, declared with Mal’s informative spank to my hip, I try to just sit so very still. When Mal’s hips shift, pushing his cock up against my hand, I stiffen again afraid he’s about to buck me off his lap. When I look at him, I see him staring right at me. His eyes are bright and intense, and their motions tell me all I need to know. They stay on my eyes for a beat, then move quickly down to where I’m sitting on my hand. Where I’m sitting on and fondling his manhood. His eyes then dart back up to mine and he nods once emphatically.

He wants me to continue playing with him. Playing with his cock.