I Write The Songs – CONTEST ENTRY
TITLE: Manic Monday
CHARACTERS: Sookie and The Boss
DISCLAIMER: Ms. Harris owns the characters. Prince owns the song, The Bangles sang it. I own zip.
PEN NAME: ehee
BETA NAME: VampLover1
VIRGIN WRITER: Not.
TEASER: It's Monday with a vengeance as Sookie battles one mishap after another while trying to get to work on time and stay in the good graces of The Boss.
A/N: All my undying love to VL1, who took the sack of smashed ass I sent her and whipped it into something presentable. You rock, darlin'.
His warm tongue traces the shell of her ear as strong, warm hands ghost over her bare breasts. Nimble fingers gently tweak the rosy buds, turning them to hardened peaks in the time it takes her to gasp, "Please…harder…"
He complies and her back arches, her body on fire for his touch….
Her legs circle his waist and she locks her ankles, her heels on his hips urging him to move faster and deeper. His rigid length swells inside her, signaling to her that he is close. His hand reaches between them to where they are joined, his thumb rubbing tight circles on her secret spot as he feels her walls clench around him…
chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp..….chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp…chirp, ch—
Sookie quickly extended her hand and smacked the offending alarm into silence. Rolling onto her back, she opened her heavy eyelids and regarded the ceiling with a frustrated stare. Cockblocked by the G.D. alarm. She closed her eyes again…because her dreamy replay of Sunday night had been oh so nice…and in seconds was asleep again.
Thirty-seven minutes later, Sookie woke to a purr vibrating next to her head on the pillow. She opened one eye and was nose to nose with Tina, the grey tabby who had shared her life for the past six years. Realizing what she had done, she quickly snapped awake and bolted upright in the bed. Panic struck when she checked the time: one hour and six minutes until she was officially late for work. Monday morning—shit! If there was one thing the boss hated, it was tardiness. She learned that lesson the hard way a few months prior as she stood in his office and received a thorough butt-chewing after fender-bender-snarled traffic had caused her to be twenty minutes late to work. She offered a silent prayer of thanks that Eric had decided on an early work-out at the gym this morning-at least he wouldn't be underfoot to slow down her warp speed toilette.
She sprinted to the bathroom, nearly falling when she tripped over the pile of last night's discarded clothing. She turned on the shower, grinning to herself as she thought of Eric's impromptu strip tease and how he had slowly removed each item of clothing, tossing them into that pile on the bedroom floor….
Eric sways to imaginary music, unfastening each button on his shirt with deliberate slowness. It slides from his shoulders and drifts to the floor, landing in a pool of silk at his bare feet. Sookie unabashedly ogles his sculpted chest and washboard abs, clearly enjoying the show. Eric flicks open the button on his jeans with his thumb, then waggles his eyebrows as he spins around to shake his perfect ass at her. He hooks his thumbs in his belt loops and grinds his hips as he begins to slide his jeans downward. Tanned skin gives way to pale smoothness as the denim sinks lower, and lower….
Sookie yelped as Tina wound around her ankles, startling her back into motion.
While waiting for the hot water to make its way to the shower, Sookie scrambled through her closet and pulled out a long-sleeve silk blouse in robin's egg blue, along with a black pencil skirt and simple black pumps. While her job as Executive Assistant to the CEO didn't require her to wear a suit to the office every day, her boss did frown upon her wearing slacks, unless it was Casual Day. Probably had something to do with being able to ogle her legs all day. She personally considered the notion to be archaic and sexist, and planned to tell him so…some day.
Sookie quickly returned to the bathroom and grabbed a clip to keep her hair up and out of the water-washing it was out of the question today. Thankfully, she had done so the day before, so she could save time this morning by skipping that part of her grooming ritual.
When Sookie stuck her hand under the shower spray to test the temperature of the water, she was surprised–and more than slightly pissed–to find the water was barely lukewarm. What the hell? The plumbers had just replaced the faulty water heater the week before. What were the odds this one was defective, too?
No time to ponder the reliability of household appliances now.
Sookie gritted her teeth and stepped into the tepid spray. Her breath hitched in her throat as her body adjusted to the chill. Grabbing her shower gel and body puff, she began to quickly lather herself, cursing Monday while wishing it was already the weekend again. Once the remains of the previous night had been washed away, she quickly ran a razor over her legs so they would be satiny smooth under her stockings. She hated to spend the extra minutes, especially when the water was steadily turning colder. But between lost time, blue lips, and snagged hosiery, it was the lesser of all of the evils.
Her shower complete, Sookie shivered as she snatched up the fluffy white towel she had tossed over the top of the shower door. She quickly dried herself, briskly rubbing her skin to generate a little warmth. When she stepped out of the shower, Tina was sitting nonchalantly by the bathroom door, her languid stare mocking Sookie's frenzied pace. Sookie couldn't help but stick her tongue out at her furry friend in return. How was it fair that she must haul ass to work while Tina got to lounge around the house all day? In my next life, I'll be the cat and Tina can work, she promised herself.
Turning to the cabinet behind her, Sookie retrieved a bottle of her citrus and spice-scented lotion and slathered her skin with its silky fragrance. Satisfied that her skin was sufficiently moisturized, she moved to the mirror and deftly applied a little mascara to her lashes, a bit of blush to her cheeks, and a dab of glossy balm to her lips. The office was no place for heavy makeup, in her opinion. And with her sparkling blue eyes and creamy skin, less certainly was more. She touched her silky blonde hair with a few strokes of the brush, then twisted it up and secured it to the back of her head with a clip, leaving a few loose tendrils to softly frame her face.
Scurrying back to the bedroom, Sookie opened her lingerie drawer and pulled out a bra and panty set of deep blue satin with black lace, along with a matching garter. Sexy undergarments were her one true vice, and she indulged in them no matter what she might be wearing on top – even sweats.
Sookie sat in the little slipper chair in the corner and carefully gathered her stocking in her fingers. The silky material had just cleared her ankle when it hung on a fingernail, leaving an unsightly snag. Well, crap. She balled up the ruined hosiery and chucked it toward the wastebasket at the end of the dresser, basketball style. Keeping in cadence with the rest of her morning, it bounced off of the rim of the basket and fell to the floor. Sookie sighed and shook her head as she scooped up the stocking and dunked it into the bin. She knew better than to look in the drawer for a replacement—that had been her last pair. The extra time spent shaving her legs hadn't been a waste, after all.
She quickly donned her blouse, praying she could get it closed without a button coming off in her hand. Whew! One bullet dodged. When she tugged on the tab to close the zipper of her skirt, however, the little piece of nylon came off in her fingers. Piece of crap! she cursed to herself as she took hold of the slider and pulled it up with her fingers. I knew it was too good to be true. Once her skirt was secured, she stepped into her pumps and wondered what the hell else would go wrong this morning.
It was official—Mondays sucked.
One last look in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door told her that her appearance passed inspection; one last glance at the bedside clock told her she had 31 minutes until Officially Late. On her way out of the bedroom, she glanced at the unmade bed and smiled as she made a mental note to change the linens when she got home from work.
Sookie made her way downstairs to the kitchen and the small table at the end of the counter where she usually deposited her purse and car keys. Tina, who had followed her from the bedroom, jumped onto the table as if to reinforce the fact that the tabletop was empty, the purse and keys nowhere to be seen. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea! Of all the days for things to be out of place….
As she was scouring the kitchen for her bag, Sookie heard the unmistakable retching sound of Tina hawking up a hairball in the corner. "Sure, why not?" she wailed as she grabbed a handful of paper towels to clean up the mess. "What's one more reason for me to be late this morning? While you're at it, why don't you miss your litter box and pee on the floor?" Tina licked her paw and scrubbed her face with it, pretending not to notice Sookie's distress.
Sookie huffed and stomped as she continued to search for her purse and keys, finally locating them in the adjacent laundry room, on top of the washing machine. I don't even want to know how they got there, she mumbled to herself.
As she passed back through the kitchen, a fleeting look at the refrigerator caused her to sigh. There was no time to spare to pack a lunch today, so she would have to make do with take-out from the deli down the block from the office. Thank heavens for the bottle of antacids in the bottom drawer of her desk.
A parting pat on Tina's head later, Sookie entered the attached garage and climbed into her shiny new Audi SUV. She'd chastised Eric when he brought it home, telling him she was perfectly fine driving her aging-but-well-cared-for Camry. When he had begun to argue his case for the wonders of German engineering, not to mention her own personal safety, Sookie had known it was one battle she would have to concede.
She carefully backed out of the garage and headed out through their exclusive gated community (again, Eric's idea.) It took no time for her to notice the low fuel light on the dash. The gas gauge read less than one-eighth of a tank—not nearly enough to get her to work. German engineering meant dick if you were sitting on the side of the road with an empty gas tank.
Seeing the sign for a convenience store a few blocks ahead, Sookie slowed down and pulled into the bank of gas pumps. She jumped out of the car and hurriedly swiped her credit card in the card reader as she thrust the nozzle into the gas tank. The tick tick tick of the fuel slowly flowing through the pump's meter was a grim reminder of the precious minutes ticking away while she stood idly watching the dollars and cents rack up on the display. The ticking was soon replaced with a loud knock as the pump shut off, but not before the nozzle backfired, spewing gas around the handle and all over her left foot. Squelching the urge to scream, she crammed the pump handle back into its cradle. Ignoring the pump's beeping offer for a receipt, she tossed her gas-soaked shoe into the back floorboard, hopped back into her car, and sped toward the freeway.
Fifteen minutes into her drive, windblown as hell because the gas fumes from her shoe had forced her to drive with her window down, Sookie was fighting back tears and wondering how in the hell she was going to explain to her boss the bizarre sequence of events that had plagued her Monday. She was wondering why things couldn't go wrong one day at a time so they could be more manageable —oversleep on Monday, no gas on Wednesday—when she noticed the traffic on the highway in front of her had slowed to a crawl. She checked her time with the clock in the dash – now only 7 minutes to Officially Late. Eyeballing her purse with her cell phone inside, she contemplated calling the office to report her situation. Who would she report it to? The boss? The less warning the better, where he was concerned. Maybe she would luck out and the traffic would at least keep moving.
Ten minutes and only two miles later proved her wrong, however. When she finally made it past the bottleneck (tie-downs on a delivery truck had broken and released a load of lumber onto the highway), she stepped up her pace an additional five miles per hour. Better to risk a speeding ticket than the wrath of her boss.
When Sookie finally arrived at her office building, she screamed into the attached parking garage and nearly skidded the SUV to a stop at her reserved spot. Grabbing her purse off of the passenger seat and her smelly shoe from the back, she bailed out and ran for the elevator as fast as her one shoe would allow. She pushed the button for the top floor and fidgeted with nervous tension while the car glided upward. Wincing even before she looked, Sookie risked a peek at her watch—eighteen minutes past the hour. Damn, damn…double damn. She was nearly halfway through the doors when the bell dinged and the elevator opened up onto her floor.
Sprinting down the hallway, Sookie ducked through the company's private entrance and scurried past the door to the boss's office. The fact that it was closed indicated he was already inside, most likely hard at work already. But she also knew that the slab of gleaming mahogany between them didn't mean he wasn't aware of her tardiness.
Ducking into the employee washroom around the corner, Sookie checked her appearance in the mirror and smoothed her hair with flattened fingers. She soaked a handful of paper towels with soap and water and tried to scrub a little of the gasoline smell off of her shoe and foot. It helped some, but not as much as she would have liked. After taking a few deep breaths to steady her nerves, she opened the door and did a quick one-shoe hobble to her desk.
After she stowed her purse and odorous shoe in the cabinet behind her desk, Sookie eased into her leather office chair. Now she had tardiness and only one shoe to try and explain. Straightening the items sitting on the desktop did little to calm her nerves. Her mind raced in an attempt to come up with some plausible excuse for the morning's incidents, besides the fact that it was "just Monday." To anyone but her boss, a traffic accident would be a valid excuse for her belated arrival. But he knew where she lived and exactly how long her morning commute should take. It wouldn't take much for him to put two and two together and realize there was more to the story than a pile-up on the freeway.
Sookie propped her elbows on her desktop and rested her head in her hands. What was a scolding from the boss in addition to the long line of oh shit moments she'd already had this morning? Just as she steeled herself to go to his office and announce her arrival, the intercom on her phone buzzed.
The boss. Oh crap.
"Sookie, can you step into my office, please?" His voice rang through the speaker, a stern request disguised as a question.
Sookie didn't bother with a reply. Rather, she trudged toward his office and quietly knocked on the door.
"Enter," came the brusque command from inside.
Sookie swallowed hard, then opened the door and slipped inside the boss's office.
"Lock the door, please." His smooth voice was laced with just a hint of danger.
Oh boy. Sookie knew what the locked door meant. This wasn't the first time they'd gone head-to-head during business hours.
Her pulse was racing as shaky legs carried her across the expanse of carpeted floor to the mountain of polished wood he called a desk. She gave herself a mental ass-chewing for being a bundle of nervous excitement, while he appeared to be the epitome of calm, cool, and collected.
Steel-blue eyes studied her from across the desk. "You were late today." Ah, yes…there was that special authoritative edge to his voice she had been waiting for.
Sookie quickly slipped into character. "I'm sorry, sir, but there was an accident on the freeway-"
"And what in God's name is that smell?"
"Well, I had to stop for gas, and-"
The boss rose from his throne of Italian leather and slowly walked around the desk. At six-feet four inches, he was nearly a foot taller than Sookie. Their difference in height had never failed to daunt her. He stopped mere inches from her, his stern countenance causing her mouth to go dry as he towered over her.
"No excuses," he growled. "You know how I feel about tardiness."
"Yes, sir…" Sookie croaked through her parched lips.
"I believe some sort of punishment would be in order, don't you think?" he asked smoothly, narrowing the space between them until they were nearly nose-to-nose. His nose wrinkled ever so slightly as it caught another whiff of the gas fumes coming from Sookie's foot.
"As you wish, sir," was her conditioned response.
He let his icy glare linger a moment longer before seizing her mouth in a bruising kiss. As his tongue parted her trembling lips, Sookie couldn't stop the groan that escaped them.
"How about we really make some noise," he whispered suggestively as he slipped his hand under her skirt and teased her through her silk panties. The moan that rose from her chest was muffled as he once again claimed her lips with his. For a moment, Sookie gave into the sensations roiling through her body and completely forgot where she was.
But the kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun, and Eric casually strolled around the desk and returned to his seat. There was a hint of devilry in his eyes as they took in her now-disheveled appearance. "Your punishment will begin in the playroom this evening at 6:30. Promptly. Now, take a few minutes and see what you can do about that new fragrance you're wearing. Eau de Grabbit Kwik would not be on my list of favorites."
Sookie gulped hard as a slow warmth spread through her body, one that would be a raging inferno by the end of the day. He could play her like a violin, and both of them knew it. "As you wish, sir," she repeated contritely as she headed toward the door.
"And Mrs. Northman?" Eric's voice was silk on steel as he called to her.
Sookie paused with her hand on the door knob and whispered over her shoulder to him. "Yes, sir?"
"Do not be late."
