Rick POV
Although I missed Michonne like crazy, I realize how important it is for her to go back to her company. She needs to be there, otherwise, her company will surely miss out on some great opportunities. She has great ideas, loves her company, her family and is proud of what her father accomplished.
Going back won't be easy, it sounds like her brother is a stubborn ass, even more so than myself. How could he not see how brilliant Michonne is, especially when it comes to finance and technology. That sexy little woman is a genius.
If it were my place, I'd talk to him, tell him to put his ego aside and let his little sister lead at his side. I have no doubts that's what King McQueen would want.
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on my door. I have no doubt that it's either Andrea or Jessica, they are the only ones who are still trying to fuck me after all this time. They conveniently come around when Carol is at lunch. If Carol is in a mood, she'll have something catty to say before allowing them to disturb me. I wish she'd just outright block them as I asked her too.
My door is unlocked so Jessica just barges right in.
"Hi Rick, I brought us some lunch, from Merle's Burger Shack," she's grinning ear to ear as she walks in shaking two greasy bags of god knows what.
"Did I ask you to bring me lunch?" My eyes trained on the packaging which soaked up all of the disgusting greases. No wonder Jessica's gained so much weight.
"You'll love the pork tenderloin and fries."
"I doubt it, now get that out of here, your making my office stink."
"What are you going to have for lunch?" Her Cheshire grin faded and her face morphed as dead-pan as she could manage, yet she failed. She still held on to hope that I'd somehow chosen her over Michonne.
"I'd rather chew on Negan's ear before I eat that crap, now get out of here. Let me say this real slow so it sinks in. Don't call me or come by unless it's business-related. Otherwise, you'll be transferred like Lori."
I watched the color drain from her blushing cheeks and without another word, she took her stinky bags of food and left. She knows I'm not playing.
Last week Lori made a scene when I wouldn't give her a ride home. She's actually a good employee when she's not all clingy and desperate actions. She stayed late and was a tremendous help with our launching project. Her hard work made her promotion material for sure. The meeting didn't conclude until well after 6 PM. She, Eugene and I was the only ones in the parking lot. She had parked next to me and I could hear her engine stall and see the panic on her face when her car wouldn't fire up. I jumped out of my vehicle and had her pop the hood. I checked the fluids, made sure she had gas and tried giving it a jump, but nothing.
She suggested that she leave her piece of junk in the parking lot and asked me to take her home. I flat out refused, called a tow truck and even paid for it.
Before the tow truck arrived, I tried to make small talk with her, but she didn't want to talk. I flat out refused her advances and kept my distance. That really pissed her off. She started yelling and screaming at me. She demanded to know why I didn't want to take her home; why don't I let her in my office anymore, and a bunch of whiny ass 'why's'. I didn't offer her an explanation because I don't owe her one.
One thing she said was true, I used her, I wanted my cock sucked at work, with no strings attached. I honestly didn't care if she was the one to do, but she did. I propositioned her once and she accepted. After that she pursued me...Constantly, but I never led her on. I never promised I'd be anything more than a fuck -buddy. I let her yell at me until the tow truck arrived and then I went to Michonne's house.
By the time she arrived at work the next day, her transfer papers were sitting on her desk. She left without protest. Noah another highly skilled employee had requested a transfer to our location months ago, but I had no place for him until now. I told Noah to send Lori a thank-you note.
"You're such a little seductress," I smiled, knowing full well that Michonne was about to seduce me... Her voice had the lilt I knew so well – her words soft with the smile that already played on her face. With the kiss came electric tingles, the desire to play.
Seduction was what Michonne did best, moving into my personal space with just the right look of heat in her eyes. She didn't just look at a man, she looked into him as if she knew his desires. With the kiss came the smooth touch of her body, poised, just the right blend of relaxation and tension. I know that once she kisses my neck my resistance will crumble. After just a few delicate touches of her warm lips, my hands will start to do her commands. Now there is only one desire, one wish, and we both know it's just a matter of time before it happens.
We sat on her back deck, well hidden behind a thick cluster of trees and bushes in the summer brightness, feeling the early morning breeze that would be the only relief from the heat that day. Michonne, in one fluid motion, turned so that she was astride, her dress riding up her thighs ever so slightly. Our gaze lasted a full second, enough for us to take in the face of the other. Nothing needed to be said, those deep brown eyes of hers said it all. They are a million earthy hues, as dark as the night sky and, when she smiled, the stars shined. I grab the back of Michonne's neck, growling in the kiss as she whimpered in pleasure.
"Nervous," Michonne gave my hand a little squeeze as we strolled the length of the driveway hand in hand.
"Hungry," I quipped and squeezed her hand back. I was excited, truly not knowing what to expect. She seemed a little nervous as expected. She knows I can be a little unpredictable, but I promised I'd be on my best behavior.
Her mother's bright yellow house reminded me of an old country home you'd see in the movies. The porch had a white wooden swing surrounded by potted plants.
"Hi Momma, this is Rick," Michonne hugs her mother with one arm, still holding my hand firmly with the other.
"It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. McQueen." I said shaking her hand earnestly smiling brightly at her, "It smells really good in here."
"Thank you, please call me Abigail, I changed our usual third Sunday fish fry to something a little different."
"Ms. Abigail, you didn't have to do that for me."
"Well, I did it for Michonne too, she doesn't like a lot of fried foods either, please have a seat," she motioned towards the living room, "make yourself comfortable, dinner is done, we're waiting on Morgan and the kids."
Michonne and her mother share many features, a youthful appearance, bright smile and they're exactly the same height. It's almost like looking at Michonne in the future.
"You have a lovely home," I take a seat on the tan suede couch covered by a royal blue quilt, in the quaint room.
"Thank you, I grew up here, this house was left to me by parents. Morgan lives in the house Michonne grew up in."
Michonne is standing next to her mother, I noted the bittersweet smile on her pretty face. Perhaps she'd like to be the one living in her fathers' former home.
"How did the Sunday dinner tradition begin Ms. Abigale?"
"Marvin and I grew up in a time when everyone worked hard all week Monday through Saturday; Sun up to sun down so we made Sunday a time for rest, family, fellowship and food, simple as that," She smiled, "sugar-bear, will you help me set the table?"
Michonne's eyes widened and her jaw dropped if she weren't so beautiful her expression would be downright comical. She knows I'm going to tease her about her nickname when we get home.
Michonne quickly retreats to the kitchen and a second later the doorbell rings. I stand from my seat peering down into the entryway as Ms. Abigale opens the door.
Two children quickly run inside, "Grandma Abby!" The boy and girl give their granny a hug. Abigale swiftly kisses them on the cheek and off they go down the hall. I don't think they even noticed me.
Morgan hugs his mother and kisses her forehead, his gaze upon me, his expression unreadable. Jenny, Carol's younger sister noticed me immediately, her eyes lit up in obvious revelation and I had no doubt Carol has told her all about me. Carol introduced me to Jenny a couple of years back at our annual picnic.
Back in the living room, I caught a glimpse of Michonne going back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room with dishes in hand dutifully tending to her task. I wanted to go help her, but I knew I couldn't do that just yet.
"Morgan, Jenny, this is Rick," Ms. Abigale introduced us. I extended my hand to which Morgan accepted. He had a firm handshake and was pleasant enough.
"Hi, Morgan, nice to meet you, nice to see you again Jenny."
"The tables ready," Michonne entered the living room standing next to me, she nor her brother greeted or even acknowledged one another. The chatter of the children's voices could be heard throughout the house.
"I'll go get the kids," Jenny says before leaving the room.
Morgan's cell phone rang he answered with urgency, walking back out the door. Abigale, not looking pleased by his actions.
"Mom, let's go put dinner on the table."
Abigale nods in agreement and mother and daughter make way to the kitchen. I'm right behind Michonne and the moment I step into the kitchen the ladies usher me back out and into the seat at the head of the large dining room table.
A moment later, Michonne and Abigale are towing large dishes of food, placing them on the table, the smell intoxicating. Michonne sat down at the opposite end of the table. Jenny entered the room and she introduced me to her son Duane and her daughter Enid. The children gave a polite hello to me, hugged Michonne and took a seat next to each other.
When Morgan entered the room, he flashed me a look of utter annoyance leaving me perplexed.
"Peanut, you sit over there next to Jenny and make sure that phone of yours is off."
Michonne smirked and so did I as what occurred sunk in.
The dinner was phenomenal. Shrimp Creole, I've seen these cooked two ways, very thin and soupy or very thick and dry. This was perfect, a little on the thick side but not dry. Fried green tomatoes, that can be eaten plain or topped with shrimp in a fresh tomato basil cream sauce. I had one plain and I smothered the other with that delectable sauce. We washed the savory meal down with freshly made sweet lemonade.
There was little talk during dinner. Nothing more than brief chats about the weather, recipe exchange and compliments to the chef. This is how Ms. Abigale wants it. She wanted everyone to enjoy the food while she cherished her time with her grandchildren. Between bites, she asked them about school and sports activities.
It's a pleasant experience on the surface. Just beneath that shiny veneer was a tension, between brother and sister. Little does Morgan know, Michonne is ready now and she's no longer going to sit back and let Morgan claim another thing that should be shared between them. And just like what occurred today, Morgan will have to take a seat and be humble.
Michonne, Jenny and Abigale cleared the table and out came a Southern Banana Pudding with Homemade Custard. I could get used to this.
Abigale refused to let us help with the dishes, so we left and went on a long walk in fruitless attempt to work off dinner.
"Look at us sugar bear, it's not even 7'oclock," I chuckled.
She chuckled and fell back onto the four-poster bed, the mattress sunk under her weight and she snuggled deeper into the silken duvet. Her dark hair spread out around her head like a halo as we lay on her bed under the satin sheets, I bought for her last week. I was still stuffed and sated from the amazing Sunday Dinner.
"Why do you like me?" She whispered, her hands tracing the freckles on my arm, connecting them with invisible lines like a dot–to–dot.
"How could I not?" I replied, cupping her cheek so her beautiful eyes met my own. She frowned at my answer and looked away. I drop my hand and fluff the pillow instead.
I loved the fading sunset behind her eyes, the moonlight that dances through her hair. I love all of her, not just the parts that make sense, not just the parts that she has shown me. I love the parts of her that I don't yet understand, the parts that weigh on her shoulders, the parts I only notice when I steal glances at her in the silence.
"How could I not," I repeated. Michonne has my heart and I'll continue to show her in every way.