A/N: Since this is the only way to answer my 'guests' who feel the need to ask 'why is Rick acting that way'. Simple... Because he's in my story and I can do what I want. Just scroll and laugh, bitch scroll and laugh...Thank you!
Rick POV
What I need to do is get her out of the office. Miss McQueen doesn't seem like the club going type. I could just invite her for a drink but I have a feeling she would figure out my motives with that one.
So, I call Carol into my office; I need help planning an office function.
"Carol, how old do you figure Miss McQueen is?" I know I could just look in her file but that's too easy.
"She's twenty-six; her birthday is next month though." How the fuck does she know? Has she been snooping in her file?
"How the hell do you know that?" I might as well just ask; beating around the bush has never been one of my strong suits.
"She's my sister-in-law in; well my sister is married to her brother. I've known Michonne since she was a chubby little teenager. I got her the job here."
Carol Peletier is my hero. I have an in, she knows I'm planning shit just to be around her. She probably assumes I just fucked her.
"You're getting a raise," I chuckle.
"She's a good girl, Rick. Don't fuck with her head, please I'm asking you as a friend that knows what you do to women, not as your assistant. She knows your type; her dad was your type when he was alive and… just don't fuck her over."
"Are you threatening me?" I don't know what I would do if she is. She means well and I can't argue with her. "Don't answer that… Carol, who is her dad?"
"Marvin McQueen." the color drains from my face. "Chonne and her brother are on the outs right now and she refuses to work with him at the moment so she's working here."
Damn...I just had my mouth and fingers on a McQueen.
Marvin- The Cassic King McQueen is ─ was -is the classic car legend. He innovated modern technology and restoration for all classic cars. Anyone and everyone in the industry knows his name and his reputation. He was a God among men; he was brilliant when it came to implementing technology into the classic car while maintaining all the charm and elegance that makes a classic what it is.
He inspired me on so many levels.
I had the honor of meeting The Classic King once back in 2000, I was a senior in college and unsure of what I wanted to do. One thing was for sure. I did not want to become a corporate lawyer like my father. I love my dad and he is a great man in his own way, but for me, his path was not my path. My younger brother Aaron took on the family business fresh out of college and he hit the ground running. I'd chosen technology, I want to become a legend like Marvin but in a different way, transforming all cars and motorcycles, the hybrids, the electrics. I believe it's only a matter of time before our beautiful gas-guzzling cars will have no more gas to drink.
"I didn't fuck her, I just need to clarify that," why the hell do I need to clarify that? "Not that it's any of your business if I did."
"I didn't assume you did," Carol smirks at me with that all-knowing smirk of hers, she likes seeing me squirm since it doesn't exactly happen ─ ever.
"Now what do we have coming up that we can celebrate as a company?"
"Rick, just ask her out. Take her to a movie or something. You don't have to waste thousands of dollars on a party for a bunch of ungrateful bastards just to talk to her outside of work."
Ah, I love Carol sometimes; she's one of the few people around here that treats me like a person.
"Get back to work." I laugh and walk away.
"Miss McQueen, may I have a word with you?" I ask, leaning on her desk. It's late Thursday and I want to get her out of the office, I've been aching since Monday to get her alone again.
"Um, are you sure that's a good idea?" she whispers back, trying to make sure no one around hears us. They all know something is up anyway, I don't go to people, they come to me.
"If you're worried about what people around here think, don't. I don't give a flying piece of shit about anyone around here and what they think of me."
She gets up and follows me to the conference room I found her last week. The second the door is closed I'm on her; I press her into the back of the door and lean down, taking in her delicious scent. I trail my nose from her neck up to her ear, nipping her earlobe. "Come to dinner with me tomorrow night."
"I… I can't," she stammers.
"You can, and you will." I'm not making this an option for her, honestly.
"I… um, already have plans," she gulps and turns her face when I try to kiss her. It's been too damn long since I've tasted her. I cup her cheek and turn her face to mine, licking her lips I get her to open for me and slip my tongue between her lips – perfect pouty lips.
"Plans change, Miss McQueen," I whisper against her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow night." I release her and guide her out of the conference room. The hell with her plans, I want her and I'm going to make sure she's mine tomorrow night.
"Carol, find out what she's doing tomorrow night? I asked her to dinner and she said she has plans."
"Did you ask or tell her?"
"I asked."
"Rick, I know how you ask. I'm sure she's busy ─ painting her nails," she chuckles the last part and walks away.
She's no help so I have Eugene bring me Michonne's HR file, I'm able to procure Michonne's address. I did try to ask, but she ignored every email I sent.
Friday evening, I pull up to a pearl white contemporary style house, with a well-manicured lawn. The gorgeous pink Cadillac that had me drooling the other day is parked in the driveway. Of course, the sexiest car in the world belongs to none other than Michonne.
I pull into her driveway and turn off my car, there are plenty of lights on in the house so I know she's home. I also suspect she heard me pull up, and her walking out onto the front porch confirms those suspicions.
Damn, I thought she looked hot in her work clothes. Those are nothing compared to what is greeting me on her front porch. She's standing with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing a worn black and white Bob Marley t-shirt, a pair of red yoga pants, her hair is pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and her red-rimmed glasses are perched on her nose, from librarian to college co-ed.
"Good evening, Miss McQueen. I see you're running a little behind on getting ready," I smirk as I approach the base of her porch steps.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Taking you out to dinner, now go put something more appropriate on," I tell her, walking up the steps and invading her personal space ─ my new favorite place to be.
"I already told you I have plans." She's not going to let this go.
"Yes, your plans are to go out with me. Come on, let's get you ready." I take her arm and start to move her into the house.
"Mr. Grimes," she stops and yanks her arm free of my grasp. "I am not going anywhere with you. Now, if you would kindly leave, I would appreciate it."
"Mmm, my dear, sweet, Michonne," I stand in front of her- folded arms are against my chest and I reach up to stroke her cheek with my knuckles. "Your feistiness does nothing but turn me on. Now, you can concede and go out with me or I can take you into the house, bend you over your kitchen table and make you scream my name in ecstasy. Your choice." I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and lead her into the house.
"Now, you should probably shower, you look like you've been sweating a little. Put on something casual. Jeans ─ I'd really love to see your ass in a tight pair of jeans ─ and a low-cut blouse, I want to get a peek at what I'll have my lips wrapped around later." That's going to get her going. I can already see the steam pouring from her ears ─ a pissed off Michonne is a sexy Michonne. "Go on now."
She gives me a stern look then sits on the couch, her arms still folded across her chest. "Ah, you want to get right down to business I see."
I take a seat next to her, our legs brushing against one another; she visibly shivers and looks away. Slowly, I shift so I'm facing her, my arm slung across the back of the couch and I use my fingertips to brush her shoulder. I use my other arm to reach across her body and rub up against her thigh, under her oversized T-shirt and up to her hip, stroking the skin just above her waistband – I don't feel a panty line on the way up and it quite simply turns me on more than I expect.
"Michonne, my sweet, sweet, Michonne, go get ready. I don't know how long I can control myself when I'm alone with you," I whisper, reaching from behind her shoulder to brush a stray hair out of her face.
"No, Mr. Grimes-"
"Stop being so formal, we're not in the office," I cut her off, my voice still low.
"Rick," she starts and looks over at me, her eyes on my lips. "I can't…"
"Why?"
"Be… cause," she licks her top lip and I take the opportunity to lean in and lick from her bottom lip up to her tongue and suck it into my mouth. Her mouth opens to me and I slip in, caressing her tongue with mine. I hold onto her hip and pull until she moves to straddle my lap.
"Mmm, good girl," I moan into her mouth, my hands slide down her body to cup her ass – I'm right, no panties.
She starts to rock her hips on my lap as the kiss gets more intense, I use my grip to press her harder onto my cock making her gasp and pull back. Her eyes closed and her head falls back.
"Take your hair down." She reaches up and pulls her hair down, letting it fall around her shoulders and down her back. "Damn, you look gorgeous when you do that."
She pulls her glasses off, tossing them on her coffee table and attacks me with her mouth, her hips still rotating in a slow tortuous manner. I let my hand slide down the crease of her ass until I reach her pussy – she's soaking wet. I start rubbing back and forth over her cotton covered folds making her juices soak through her pants.
I can't believe what I'm about to do.
"Mmm, Michonne, stop…" she doesn't, she licks my neck and starts sucking and kissing. "Goddamn, as good as that feels, we need to stop."
"But isn't this what you wanted… Rick? To have me rubbing myself all over you, kissing you, touching you… fucking you?" she whispers the last part, staring straight into my soul with a little smirk playing on her lips.
"More than anything, you have no idea what you do to me. But Michonne, get dressed, I'm taking you out."
She leans in, licking my earlobe. "Your loss, Mr. Grimes, this may be your only shot."
I grab her by the hair on the back of her head, pull her face forward, making her whimper. I trace her parted lips with the tip of my tongue. "Mmm, Michonne, I want nothing more than to sit back and watch as my cock slides in and out of you." I use the hand between her legs to tap her throbbing clit. She's so worked up I can feel everything through her yoga pants. God, I fucking want her so bad.
"Then why are we stopping, Mr. Grimes," she purrs against my tongue as I continue to trace her lips.
"We, we just have to. Go get dressed," I suck on her bottom lip then release her, resting my hands on her thighs. "Please."
What the fuck is wrong with me!
"Um, okay," she looks completely confused and unsure, I'm sure my expression matches hers.
I watch her as she walks up the stairs, every cell in my body is telling me to go after her, fuck her, ravage her on the stairs, but I can't. Michonne fucking McQueen is fucking with my head and I don't know how I feel about that.
Michonne POV
What the hell is he up to? He just turned me down, I kept saying no because I knew I would willingly offer myself to him and the second he touched me that's exactly what I basically did.
When I reach the bathroom, I make sure to lock the door, I don't need my surprise visitor showing up in my bathroom. While washing the sweat from my earlier workout off I decide I need to loosen up a little and use my shower head massager to help where Mr. Rick the Dick Grimes wouldn't.
I take my time drying and preening my hair once I'm fresh and clean, I do my makeup a little heavier than normal. If he wants me to go anywhere with him, he'll just have to wait. Like a dumbass, I remembered to lock the bathroom door but not my bedroom door so when I step out of the bathroom wrapped in only a towel, I find Rick kicked back on my bed, shoes on the floor, and he's… asleep.
Shit, how long was I in there?
I take a moment to look at him while I can. This man, this imposing, infuriating man looks like an angel when he sleeps. He's on his back, one of his arms is lying across his stomach, the other tucked under his head. His mouth is parted slightly and I can hear soft snores. He's just beautiful, and my god, he looks so sexy in my bed.
I quietly move around the room, finding something to wear without waking him. I start by pulling a white lacy bra and panty set from my drawer, slipping them on under my towel. I stand in my closet, drop my towel and stare at my options. I have no fucking clue how to dress for tonight, he's pretty casual, a pair of dark fitted jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt, untucked and the top buttons undone. He looks fucking edible, not to mention the pair of black high-top Chucks, sitting on my bedroom floor.
I finally decide on a yellow mini dress, it's a lose 3/4 sleeve off the shoulder dress that's banded around the hips to my upper thigh. Rick Grimes will be kicking himself for stopping our little make-out session earlier. I couple the dress with a pair of black four-inch heels, and a pair of big silver hoop earrings.
I stand at the edge of the bed trying to figure out the best way to wake him up. What I want to do and what I should do are two different animals entirely.
I decide to go with the politest option, he may be pushy, stalking, jackass, but I have a feeling he's mine entirely so I will try. I lean over his body, getting as close to his ear as possible without touching him.
"Rick," I whisper. "Wake up, sleepy head we're going to be late." I have no idea what we're doing, so I have no idea if we will actually be late anywhere. Actually, looking at the clock we would've missed any reservations he could have made unless he assumed, I'd take this long.
He doesn't stir so I reach up to stroke the side of his face with my knuckles. "Mr. Grimes," I say a little louder and get a grunt in response. "Time to get up, I'm starving."
His eyes pop open and he looks around without moving until his eyes land on me. Oh shit. Maybe being this close wasn't such a good idea, throwing a shoe at him from across the room would've been much better. The look of lust in his eye when he sees me instantly makes my panties wet.
"Come here," he says in a husky, sleepy, sexy voice. I try to move back but he isn't having it. He strikes like a damn cobra and pulls my arm so I fall on top of him, then reaches down to grab my leg and pulls me so I'm straddling his waist.
"Why Miss McQueen, what kind of man do you think I am?" he smiles up at me, bringing his hands to rest on my rear. He rocks up, not quite hard yet but he's growing. "Baiting me to your room and then allowing me to fall asleep so you can take advantage of me."
"I didn't invite you to my house let alone my room."
"Kiss me," he whispers, his eyes locked on my lips.
"No," I grin and climb off of him, shocked he actually lets me.
"Jesus, Michonne. How do you expect me to let you out of this house wearing that? I'll be beating fuckers off left and right."
What-the-hell that was awfully possessive and presumptive.
"Last I checked, Mr. Grimes, I'm my own woman and I can wear what I want. We aren't dating, or even fucking, we're employee and employer. Other "fuckers" looking at me, or talking to me is none of your business." I gather my black clutch, turn on my very high heel and strut out of the room, adding a little extra sway in my hips.
I'm leaning over to grab my glasses when he finally makes his way downstairs to find me. "I don't know what your game is, Michonne." He stops behind me, resting his hands on my hips and pressed into my ass.
"I don't have a game, Rick," I wiggle my hips a little and straighten up, putting my glasses on.
"Mmm, okay… change your shoes; we'll be on our feet all night." He lets me go and grabs a pair of worn black low top chucks that are at the end of the couch and tosses them at me.
I glare at him before kicking off my heels and running upstairs to get a pair of no-show socks. I toss my old chucks and put on a pair of black loafers. I lock up and he's even a gentleman and opens the car door for me.
"So where are you taking me on a late Friday night?" I ask once we're on the road. I love his car, I love my car more but the beauty of a traditional stock muscle car is so cool. Such a turn-on, plus having a man that actually knows something, if I talk to Rick about cars, I know I won't have to dumb things down for him. If I look past the arrogance and womanizing, Rick would be a really good catch. The conversation goes surprisingly smoothly, I'm sure he's figured out who my father is and seems excited to talk about his car.
"It's a surprise, and it wouldn't be late if you'd been ready when I got to your place. You knew I would find you, haven't you learned anything about me?" he winks and looks back to the road; I don't miss his hand coming to rest on my thigh, his fingers stroking lightly.
"Mini golf? Why didn't you tell me to put pants on?" I whine as we pull into the parking lot of Rhee's Arcade. What Rick doesn't know is I'm a mini-golf wizard, this and pool. It will be fun kicking his ass.
"Where would the fun in that be? This way I get to look at those luscious thighs all night," he squeezes my thigh, leering at me.
"Don't be a pervert," I roll my eyes and get out of the car, I have a feeling I just flashed my lacy boy shorts at him with how short the dress is, but I can't be certain.
"Baby, I plan to pervert you any way I can," he calls over the car as he comes around to lead me inside.
"Care to make this interesting, Miss McQueen?" he asks as we walk through the front door, his hand has been resting on my back, borderline ass since we left the car.
"How can putt-putt get any more interesting?"
"We bet," he whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind.
"What are the terms? What do I get if I win?" I'm curious to see what he'll wager.
"If I win stop fighting me." As simple as that sounds I don't think I can agree to that. I like him, I do, but he scares me too much to give in to him. Yes, I'm out with him now, but it was either go out or wait at the house and see what happens.
"I can't agree to that, I really don't want anything to do with you," I turn my head, arching an eyebrow. His mouth is entirely too close to mine.
"You're a terrible liar," one of his arms drops from my shoulder and wraps around my waist holding me to him.
"If I win leave me alone, how's that sound?"
After a brief moment, he kisses my neck just under my ear. "I don't think I can do that, not now. You've gotten under my skin, Miss McQueen."