The golden lights of the city seeped into the penthouse suite through the expansive windows, casting warm shadows on the walls. Rick leaned against the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up, nursing a freshly poured glass of whisky, his second that night. His tie was loose, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, giving him an easy, almost rugged look that Michonne couldn't help but notice and place immediately.
"You clean up nice for a cowboy,"
Michonne teased, her eyes drifting to his rolled-up sleeves.
Rick smirked, taking a sip of his drink.
"Cowboy, huh? Is that what we're goin' with now?"
"Mm-hmm." She leaned back, propping her arm along the back of the couch.
"You've got that whole 'Southern charm with a side of trouble' thing goin' on. Don't tell me you haven't heard it before."
He chuckled, setting his glass down on the counter.
"I've been called a lot of things, but 'charm' usually ain't one of 'em." Impressed she his farm roots so quickly.
"Oh, I don't doubt that," she said with a sly smile.
"But you've got just enough of it to make a woman second-guess herself."
Rick raised an eyebrow, walking over to sit in the armchair across from her.
"Second-guess herself about what?"
"About whether or not you're for real,"
Michonne replied, her voice light but laced with a hint of something deeper.
He leaned back in the chair, resting his ankle on his knee as he studied her.
"And what's your verdict?"
She shrugged, swirling the champagne in her glass.
"Still deciding. You've got this whole quiet, broody thing goin' on, but then you'll say somethin' that makes me think there's more to you."
"Maybe I'm just tryin' to keep you guessin'," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
Michonne arched an eyebrow.
"That so? What's the endgame, cowboy?"
Rick shrugged, his expression softening.
"Guess that depends on whether or not you're still here when I figure it out."
The moment hung between them, the teasing smile on Michonne's face fading as his words settled. She took another sip of champagne, her gaze drifting to the window.
"So, what's a guy like you do for fun?" she asked, breaking the tension.
Rick chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Fun? Been a while since I've had time to think about that."
"Oh, come on," she said, her smile returning. "You've gotta have somethin'. Poker? Fishing? Horseback riding?"
"Not sure poker counts as fun when you're losin' more than you're winnin'," Rick admitted.
"Ah," Michonne said, pointing at him with her glass. "So you're a gambler and a cowboy."
He laughed, the sound low and easy.
"Only when I think I've got a good shot at winnin'. You?"
"Me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," he said, leaning forward slightly. "What do you do for fun?"
Michonne tilted her head, pretending to think.
"Let's see… I like people-watching. Figuring out their stories."
"People-watching, huh?" Rick said, intrigued. "You been watchin' me?"
She smirked. "Maybe a little."
"And what's my story, then?" he asked, his tone light but curious.
Michonne set her glass down on the coffee table and stood, walking over to the window. She glanced back at him, her expression unreadable.
"You're a mystery, Rick Grimes. You've got the manners of a gentleman, but the eyes of someone who's seen too much. You act like you're put together, but I'd bet good money you're barely holdin' it all together most days."
Rick stared at her, momentarily speechless. She turned to face him fully, crossing her arms over her chest.
"How'd I do?" she asked, a challenge in her tone.
He leaned forward. "Pretty damn close."
Michonne's smile was soft, but there was something guarded behind it.
"Thought so."
Rick moved closer, further closing the distance between them. "Your turn," he said.
Her eyes narrowed playfully. "My turn for what?"
"To tell me your story," he said, his voice gentle.
Michonne shook her head, her smile widening.
"Oh, no. I'm not nearly drunk enough for that."
He chuckled, tilting his head. "Not fair."
"Life's not fair, cowboy," she said, her tone teasing but her eyes serious.
Rick studied her for a moment, then turned to reach for the champagne bottle on the counter. Refreshing her glass then gently taking hold of her wrist, raising it in a mock toast.
"To life not bein' fair," he said with a smirk.
She laughed, her first real laugh of the night, and it lit up the room.
"You're somethin' else, you know that?"
"Yeah?" he asked, leaning against the counter.
"Yeah," she returned making her way back to the couch.
The sound of the TV hummed softly in the background, though neither of them was paying much attention to it. Rick was sprawled on the armchair near the window, a new glass of champagne dangling loosely from his fingers as he stared at his stunning guest.
Michonne sat nearby, watching him out of the corner of her eye. The weight of the evening lingered between them—unspoken expectations, unacknowledged tension.
Rick caught her eye, his lips quirking into a small smile when he caught her staring.
"You okay over there?"
"Yeah," she replied quickly, looking down at her untouched glass of champagne on the nightstand.
He swirled the glass in his hand.
"You don't have to be nervous, you know." He said seeing her flirtatious edge soften as the reality of their deal hung in the air.
"I'm not nervous," Michonne said, her voice steady even though her heart raced.
Rick nodded, his gaze dropping to the carpet.
"Alright. I just—look, I don't want you to think I expect anything. I mean, I know how this works, but…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.
"I don't want to push you into something you don't want to do."
Michonne studied him, her brow furrowing slightly. He looked so genuine, so earnest, sitting there trying to be the perfect gentleman. She didn't know whether to be charmed or frustrated.
He's sweet, she thought. But Sweet doesn't pay the bills. He didn't pay to watch TV with me.
Her eyes drifted to his broad shoulders, the way his shirt stretched slightly across his chest, and the faint shadow of stubble along his jawline. He was handsome in that rugged, effortless way—like he didn't even know the effect he had on people.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to push past her hesitation.
"Rick," she said softly.
He looked up, his hopeful blue eyes meeting hers.
"Yeah?"
Michonne slid off the couch, her now bare feet silent against the plush carpet as she crossed the room. She stopped in front of him, her hands smoothing the fabric of her dress nervously.
"You said you know what this is, right?" she asked, her voice low.
Rick's gaze held hers, steady and unwavering.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I know."
For a moment, she hesitated. But then she leaned down, her hands resting on the back of the chair as she hovered just inches from him.
"Me too"
She leaned closer, her fingers lightly brushing his tie, loosening it further.
"I know I don't owe you anything," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"But I'm not gonna let you sit over here pretending this isn't what you want."
His breath hitched slightly as her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing the next one.
"Michonne," he murmured, his voice low and uncertain. He didn't want her to feel obligated to do this.
"Shh," she said, leaning in so her lips were just a breath away from his ear.
"You've been watching me all night like you're afraid to touch me. I'm not afraid, Rick."
His hands came up instinctively, resting lightly on her waist. She felt the heat of his palms through the thin fabric of her dress, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
In response, Michonne slid her hands into his hair, tugging him gently until their lips met. The kiss started slow, tentative as if he was still trying to hold himself back. But when she deepened it, her body pressing against his, he surrendered himself to the moment.
Rick stood, pulling her flush against him as his hands moved to her lower back. She could feel the strength in him, the restraint he was trying so hard to maintain. It only made her want him more.
She pulled back slightly, her hands trailing down his chest as she smiled up at him.
"You don't have to be so careful," she said softly.
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his blue eyes searching hers. Then, without a word, he stood and scooped her up, his hands firm yet gentle as he carried her to the chaise.
The rest of the world seemed to fade away as he laid her down, his lips finding hers again. His touch was slow, deliberate as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her. She felt the tension in him ease slightly as she arched into him, her fingers trailing down his back.
Michonne told herself this was just part of the arrangement, just another step in their deal. But as Rick's kisses grew more urgent, as his hands explored her with a reverence she hadn't expected, she couldn't ignore the way her heart raced—not from fear or obligation, but from something deeper.
And for that night, she let herself forget about what was temporary and just let herself feel.
Michonne lay sprawled out on the plush chaise lounge, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as Rick descended upon her like a predator stalking prey. He paused briefly to gaze upon her vulnerable form, taking in every curve and contour.
Michonne's breathing quickened as Rick knelt between her legs, his eyes fixed upon her delicate form. Without hesitation, he tugged upward at the hemline of her dress until it pooled around her waist, exposing her lace panties.
His hands roamed freely across her curves, sending shivers down her spine. Then, without warning, his mouth descended upon her, his tongue darting out to trace lazy circles around her clit through the thin fabric of her underwear.
At first, Michonne squirmed uneasily, unsure if she should allow such intimate contact. That didn't stop her thighs from spreading. As Rick's ministrations became more persistent, she surrendered to the sensation, her body responding eagerly to his touch.
She moaned softly, opening wider apart to grant him greater access. Rick smiled against her sensitive flesh, taking note of the wetness that now dampened her lace panties, using his fingers to gently push them aside.
At first, his touches were light and feather-like, flickering his tongue gently against her soft folds. But soon enough, Rick's passion ignited, and he buried his face deep between her thighs. His fingers worked her clitoris expertly while his tongue probed every inch of her inner sanctum.
Michonne gasped and moaned, her hands gripping the armrests tightly as she felt herself edging closer and closer to the brink. Rick seemed determined to push her over the edge, relishing the sight of her unraveling before him. When finally, Michonne shattered into a million pieces, Rick pulled away, grinning triumphantly.
But instead of retreating altogether, Rick crawled up on top of her, settling himself firmly between her spread legs. Michonne's eyes blazed as she saw what he intended to do, but she made no objections. This was what she craved most of all - to be taken fully and completely. She ran her hands up his chest and snaked her fingers into his hair, his silky curls welcoming them warmly.
With a fierce expression etched onto his features, Rick pushed himself inside her, groaning loudly as he filled her. Michonne's cry echoed off the walls, as she reveled in the sensation of being claimed so utterly. Their movements became almost animalistic, driven purely by instinct and desire.
Rick drove himself harder and harder within her, thrusting deeper with each passing second to enjoy the grip her walls had on him, he leaned back slightly and reached down for her thighs pushing them further back and he leaned back down to reach deeper inside her. Michonne moaned softly as he began kissing her neck and felt herself growing closer and closer to another climax, her senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of their coupling. Finally, with a final mighty surge, Rick let loose, groaning in her neck and she heaved beneath him squeezing his torso between her thighs as she joined him over the edge.
For several moments afterward, they remained locked in an embrace, their hearts beating as one. Michonne felt a profound sense of peace wash over her - a complete surrender of oneself to another person. And as Rick nuzzled affectionately against her neck, she immediately wished they had met some other way. Her mind already racing with dooming thoughts. She quickly closed her eyes and breathed in his warm scent. He leaned up to kiss her again, slowly pulling at her lips and pushing his hips into her creating a delicious pressure where they were still joined below the waist. She moaned into his mouth as she let his kiss clear her mind, feeling him lift her into his arms and carry her to bed.
The quiet hum of the hotel air conditioner was the only sound in the dark bedroom, mingling with the slowing rhythm of their breathing. Rick's arm was draped around Michonne's waist, holding her close, his body warm and solid against her back.
Michonne slowly turned her head and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing as she tried to steady her heart. His hand rested lightly on her stomach, his fingers splayed possessively yet tenderly. It was the kind of touch that made her want to lean into him, to let herself get lost in the comfort he offered.
But she couldn't let herself. Not fully.
Don't do this, girl. Don't start thinking it's more than it is.
She bit her bottom lip, her gaze dropping to his hand on her. His thumb moved absentmindedly, brushing small circles against her skin, as if to remind her he was still there. She closed her eyes, willing herself to stay grounded.
He's only being sweet because he knows it's temporary. Men like him—they don't stick. Not with women like you.
But then Rick shifted slightly, pulling her closer. His lips brushed against her shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. She felt his breath against her skin, slow and steady.
"You okay?" he murmured, his voice low and thick with lingering sleep.
"Yeah," she replied softly, not trusting herself to say more.
"You sure?" He pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, his hand tightening slightly around her.
"You feel tense."
Michonne exhaled, trying to let go of the tension she hadn't realized she was holding. "Just… thinking," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rick chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her back.
"Dangerous habit."
She smiled despite herself, but it quickly faded as her thoughts returned. This is temporary. You're leaving in a few hours at best.
Rick's hand moved again, sliding up to rest just beneath her ribs, his thumb grazing her skin.
He hummed softly, and pressed another kiss to her shoulder, lingering this time.
Michonne closed her eyes again, forcing herself to focus on the feel of his arm around her, the steady rhythm of his breathing. She told herself it didn't mean anything, that it couldn't mean anything.
But deep down, she knew she was lying to herself.
Rick shifted again, nuzzling into her hair.
"Get some sleep," he murmured.
"Yeah," she replied softly, knowing it wouldn't come easily.
As he drifted off behind her, his hold on her never loosened, Michonne lay awake, staring into the darkness.
Later that morning Rick sat at the patio dining table, a new suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, the top button of his dress shirt undone. Across from him, Michonne was opposite him in his oversized button-down shirt, her legs crossed and her teacup cradled in her hands. The faint hum of the city waking below was the only sound for the moment.
Rick glanced at her, his coffee untouched.
"You comfortable?" Nervous his affection the night before and early that morning had scared her off. Between the relief she had given him from his shitty day and the 2 extra drinks he had; he had allowed himself to be more open than normal. He hoped he hadn't made her uncomfortable with his advances but also hoped that he'd get the chance to indulge himself again if she was agreeable.
Michonne smirked, enjoying the way he looked at her.
"I've been worse," she said with a teasing edge.
"But This isn't exactly my usual scene."
Rick leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"Last night, you said this was new for you."
"It is," she said, meeting his eyes.
"I'm not… used to working for money like this." She shrugged, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze.
"I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing here just as much as you are."
Rick nodded, running a hand through his hair.
"Me too. This whole thing… it's not something I'd normally do either." He hesitated, then added,
"But I'm glad I did."
Her expression softened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he said firmly.
"You're… not what I expected."
Michonne raised an eyebrow.
"What did you expect?"
He chuckled.
"I don't know. Someone just going through the motions. But you—you're smart, beautiful, and… real. You've got this energy about you."
She tilted her head, studying him.
"Careful, Rick. I might think you're trying to flatter me."
He smiled, but there was a seriousness behind his next words.
"I'm not. I mean it. And I've been thinking…"
Her brow furrowed slightly.
"Thinking about what?"
He leaned back, his fingers tapping the edge of his coffee cup.
"I've got a lot going on this week. Meetings, events, dinners. And I hate doing all of it alone. You make things… easier. Better."
Michonne's lips quirked into a small smile, but she stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.
"I want you to stay," Rick said finally, his voice low but steady.
"Spend the week with me. I'll pay you 5,000."
Her eyebrows shot up, and for a moment, she looked genuinely caught off guard.
"5,000? For a week?"
He nodded.
"No strings attached. Just… be my company. Help me get through this."
Michonne let out a soft laugh, shaking her head, she had been dreading leaving all morning and would've gladly stayed for his company alone, but here he was offering to solve all her financial issues in a week.
"Rick, that's a lot of money. You sure about this?"
"I'm sure," he said, his blue eyes steady on hers.
"You're worth it."
She set her teacup down and leaned back, watching him carefully.
"You don't even know me."
"I know enough," he said simply.
"And I'm not asking for anything you're not comfortable with. I just… I don't want to go back to doing this alone just yet."
Michonne let the words hang in the air for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Then, she smiled—a slow, knowing smile that reached her eyes.
"You've got yourself a deal, cowboy," she said, holding out her hand.
Rick took it, his grip firm but warm.
"Good. Then it's settled." He said dropping a kiss to the back of her hand.
The sound of running water filled the suite as Rick stepped into the bedroom, tying the loose knot of his tie. He paused by the bathroom door, left slightly ajar, and caught a glimpse of Michonne through the glass shower enclosure. Steam billowed around her, clinging to her smooth, toned skin. She stood under the cascade of water, her head tilted back, dark curls plastered to her neck and shoulders. She looked utterly at ease, as if this was her space, her moment.
Rick hesitated. He wasn't trying to stare—he wasn't that guy—but something about her had him rooted in place.
"You're gonna stand there all day, cowboy?" Her voice cut through the hiss of the shower.
He blinked, startled, and cleared his throat.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to intrude."
"You didn't," she said casually, not bothering to turn around. "If I minded, you'd know."
Rick smiled, shaking his head at her confidence.
"I, uh, just wanted to leave something for you."
He stepped further inside, the steam wrapping around him like a warm blanket. His polished shoes tapped lightly against the tile floor as he reached for his wallet and placed his gold credit card on the marble counter.
Michonne glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a sly smile.
"What's this for?"
"I figured you'd want to pick up a few things while I'm in meetings,"
Rick said, leaning against the counter.
"Clothes, shoes, whatever you need for the week. Go wild."
She turned slightly, still standing under the stream of water, and raised an eyebrow.
"Generous and practical. You're full of surprises, Rick."
He shrugged, his gaze steady but warm.
"I told you—I want you to be comfortable."
Michonne stepped forward, water dripping from her as she moved to the edge of the shower, resting her hands on the glass. Her eyes locked on his, sharp and amused.
"You sure this is about my comfort?"
Rick felt the air shift between them, thickening with an unspoken tension. He swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter.
"I don't know. Maybe it's about mine too."
A smile played on her lips as she slid the shower door open just enough for the steam to escape.
"You're overthinking it, cowboy," she said softly. "Come here."
He hesitated only for a moment before stepping closer, his heart pounding in his chest. She reached for his tie, tugging him gently toward her.
The next thing he knew, she was pulling him into the shower, the warm water soaking his shirt and tie as he stumbled slightly. Her laughter filled the small space, rich and unrestrained, as his hands instinctively found her waist.
"You're gonna ruin your clothes," she teased, her breath warm against his cheek.
"I'll live," he murmured, his fingers tightening on her waist.
Their eyes met, the playful energy between them shifting into something deeper. Slowly, he dipped his head, his lips brushing against hers, testing, waiting. She met him halfway, her mouth soft but commanding, the kiss igniting like a spark catching fire as she undid his pants and he hoisted her up against the shower wall, his fingers already melting into her soft petals as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.
Rick stood in front of the mirror, running a towel over his damp hair. His shirt clung to his chest, a casualty of their impromptu moment in the shower. He'd discarded his tie somewhere in the process and was now half-dressed, his slacks sitting low on his hips.
Behind him, Michonne was seated on the edge of the bed, toweling off her hair. She'd found the plush robe from the hotel closet and wore it loosely tied, her legs crossed. Her gaze drifted toward him, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.
"We should probably talk about the rest of the week."
Michonne raised an eyebrow, leaning back on her hands.
"You mean the part where you're paying me five grand to hang out with you?"
Rick nodded.
"Yeah. I want to make sure we're on the same page."
"Alright," she said, her tone light but curious.
"Lay it out for me, cowboy. What exactly are you expecting?"
"I'd like you to stay with me every night. You don't have to, but… it'd mean a lot."
Michonne didn't react immediately, her expression unreadable.
"Okay," she said after a moment. "What else?"
"I'd like you to come with me to a few events. Dinners, meetings, maybe a cocktail party or two. Just be my… partner. Someone I can talk to, rely on."
He hesitated, then added, "And have fun with."
She studied him carefully, her lips pursed.
"So you want me to be your arm candy and your therapist," she teased, though her tone wasn't unkind.
Rick let out a soft laugh.
"Something like that. But only if you're comfortable with it. If there's anything you're not okay with, you can tell me."
Michonne leaned forward, her robe slipping slightly off one shoulder.
"Alright. What about the money? When do I get it?"
"I was thinking I could pay you in installments," Rick said.
"Half up front, and the rest at the end of the week."
She narrowed her eyes slightly as if weighing his words.
"And what happens if I decide to walk away before the week's over?"
"Then you keep what I've already given you," Rick said without hesitation.
"Like I said, No strings, no hard feelings."
Michonne smiled faintly, impressed by his straightforwardness. "You're making this easy, huh?"
"I want to make sure it's fair," Rick said simply.
She stood, the robe falling open just enough to reveal a hint of the toned figure beneath as she crossed the room to him.
"You're an interesting man, Rick Grimes," she said softly, leaning up so their faces were close.
"Alright. We've got a deal. I'll stay, I'll play the part, and I'll keep you company. But don't expect me to just smile and nod."
Rick grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Snaking his hands inside letting his fingers press to the skin of her back while his thumbs rubbed up and down her flat stomach, enjoying her smooth skin.
She straightened, tying the robe around her waist and pushing away his roaming hands before he had her bent over the bed.
"Good. Now, go get to wherever you needed to be an hour ago, I can't have you falling behind on my watch" she smirked.
Rick laughed, shaking his head as he straightened to finish getting himself dressed again. Michonne winked at him as she turned to leave the room.
"Smart man. Don't worry, I'll make our time worth your while."
As the door closed behind her, Rick exhaled, a smile lingering on his face. He wasn't sure how the week would play out, but one thing was certain—Michonne was already worth every penny.