For just_muse_me - 10.8.5. Change of Heart
[Co-written with agentfraser | Follows THIS and THIS]
Marc tossed his spent Latte cup into the trash can in the foyer of Promantech and started to unzip his leather jacket as he made his way through the office. This level of the building was completely and totally revolved around a company that was, indeed, a medical and drug technologies company. Marc knew the job inside out from reading brief after brief on how everything worked and was to be run. He was the picture of a successful company owner with his finger on the very pulse pumping from the heart of the business. Today he had his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck and a small pair of slim designer reading glasses on his nose. They were fake, of course, but Marc wore glasses now and again and that's all there was to it. He gave a brief nod to his Personal Assistant when he arrived, but paid no attention to anyone in the waiting room as he swept into his office and kicked the door closed behind him.
Bollocks. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the rack in the corner of the office and then sat down at his desk to turn his laptop on. He was tired today. Blood sugar levels a little low, so he would have to watch himself. That was one part of James Campbell's life he couldn't have anyone erase at the drop of a hat. Marcus Fraser was diabetic, too, though apparently newly diagnosed and finding his feet with the illness. It was a miracle he wasn't cranky with Christmas veering as close as it was. This would be the first Christmas in his whole thirty years of life he wouldn't have with his family and it hurt. But a hurt he had to hide. A hurt he could distract himself from by getting extensively fucked at every turn.
This inevitably turned his mind to Harriet Ryan and he smirked, tapping in his password on the keyboard. He had no response to to his return 'correspondence'. Either she had given up, or she was strategically planning her next move. He hoped it wasn't the former. It would be a shame, just when he was starting to have fun. His intercom buzzed and he hit the call button. "What is it?" he asked.
"Your nine am appointment is here, Mr Fraser," his PA, Kirsty, announced.
Marc frowned. "I don't have a nine am."
"It was an urgent last minute booking, sir."
"Bollocks, Kirsty. I'm busy," Marc returned and went to hit the button but she cut him off.
"She was very insistent, sir..." Kirsty elaborated with that air to her tone that indicated his 'appointment' was listening to every word he was saying over the speaker phone. Fuck.
Marc scrunched his nose up and then rolled his eyes. "Send her in." He shook his head and ceased the call. "Gotta remember to fire my PA," he added to himself in a mutter.
"Really? And I thought she'd been very accommodating." Harriet Ryan had opened the door quietly, having waited outside it since Kirsty had buzzed Mr Fraser. In a way Harri had been grateful that Marcus had been caught up in his own little world while he'd walked through the waiting room. It meant her surprise was just that--a surprise. On the off chance Marc paid any attention to his appointment calender, Harri hadn't used her own name. There really was nothing she wouldn't do to obtain what she wanted.
And right now she wanted Marcus Fraser.
Her lips curved into a warm smile as she walked over to his desk and set down a paper bag with muffins and coffee inside. She was wearing a designer trench coat, the material closer to satin than anything that would have been effective had it been raining outside. "Good morning, Mr Fraser. Sleep well?"
Marc had to bite back an expletive. 'Surprise' didn't even begin to cut it on a morning he was off his game. "'Sleep' is such a relative concept," he replied and found the smirk enough within him for it to eventuate to his lips. He cleared his throat and his eyes raked over her body from behind the dark silver Armani frames. "Do I need to get my cheque book out?" he asked innocently.
Harri laughed softly. "Shouldn't you start with offering to take my coat first? It's only polite. Money should never be discussed before ten o'clock at least. It's why I loathe Wall Street."
"I pay people to do that for me," Marc said, not missing a beat. "I'm very, very rich and Wall Street is only good for fucking people over. Or just fucking people, if that is your taste."
Harri let out a sigh as if she was disappointed with his response. She tugged on the sash keeping the coat together, her porcelain flesh revealed as the instant it fell open. She slipped it off and laid it on the back of one of the chairs in front of Marc's desk. "I hate fucking brokers. That could be taken both ways. They're always thinking about money."
Marc's eyes remained firmly fixed on her and at first his expression was unreadable. His lips curled into a smile that was anything but innocent and and he casually rested his leg up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. "What do you think of the ones who are always thinking about sex?" he asked, his tone smooth.
Harri sat down, and crossed her legs as she regarded him. She liked the smile on his face, but her own expression was carefully neutral even if the sparkle in her blue eyes belayed her desire. "I think they know what's important in life. Money only gets one so far. A real body shattering orgasm is hard to come by." This time she allowed herself a small smirk. "Pardon the pun."
Marc gave a brief laugh. "Says who?" he commented smugly. "You wanted my nine am. No one gets my nine am. You must be a very early riser... which is more than I can say for myself. I take it you haven't come to discuss my highly intriguing," he glanced across his desk, "corporate statistics."
"As you said earlier 'sleep' is a relative concept. I've never been very good at it. I also don't believe in waiting when I know what I want and where to get it." Harri folded her hands in her lap, her breasts very much there for Marc's perusal. "You asked me how much I was willing to pay for what you have, but I'm not going to pay anything. Not as far as money goes."
Marc sat forward again and took a bottle of water from his top draw. He unscrewed the cap and rolled it between his fingers. "You want to offer me a fatted cow or something?" he asked in amusement and then took a long drink of water, still watching her as he swallowed.
Harri stood up to open the paper bag and get out the breakfast offering she'd brought with her. "No, I want to offer you myself. I don't do dating. I wouldn't even know where to start. Dinner seems redundant when take-out in bed seems much more conducive. As would taking meals separately. If I ask you to dinner, I'd really only be thinking about one thing anyway..." Harri arched an eyebrow slightly. "Just out of interest how do you feel about a woman who spends most of her time thinking about sex?"
Marc shrugged. "She can think all she wants. It's if she acts on it is what I care about," he told her and flicked the bottle cap across the sleek desktop. "So, you don't date, huh? Just sex. Don't you ever get lonely?"
Harri had finished setting out their breakfast, and she made her way around Marc's desk. If actions were something he wanted, she could oblige. She trailed her hand up his leg that was resting on the edge of his desk. "Of course. I have to admit that one benefit to dating would be going to sleep with someone beside me. I just don't feel like sleeping with a whole bunch of frogs to reach my prince." She leaned down to brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I'd rather just skip straight to my handsome and very well hung prince."
Marc turned his head so his lips were less than a centimetre away from hers. "You're used to getting what you want, aren't you?" he said lowly and then teasingly ran his tongue slowly across her lower lip. "And I'm used to getting what I want. The question is, do you want what I want?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy a challenge." She let out a small sigh as his tongue teased her lip, her eyes quickly darkening. She darted her head forward to catch his lip between her teeth, nipping at it. "Finding out what you want is why I'm here."
Marc afforded her a chaste kiss and then pulled back slightly. "I want a lot of things," he said evasively. "And I don't want just as many things. Like I said, it's all relative." He looked over her in amusement for a few moments, glancing briefly at the breakfast and then meeting her eyes again. "You slapped me, fucked me in an elevator, sent me free personal porn, and now show up to my office with breakfast. At some point, you're going to want something in return. What is it? Let me guess, you're an undercover cop and you want to strip search me?"
"While I wouldn't say no to a strip search..." Harri trailed off as her eyes moved to his crotch. "And let's not forget that you sent me your own free personal porn, I do want something in return. So far I'm getting it though, and it's not that painful, is it?" She raised both eyebrows as she offered him a smile. This conversation was doing enough to prove to her that he was more than his ten inches, even if it wasn't giving her much in the way of personal information. Still, there was plenty of time for that. "I would also like to correct you and clarify that I showed up at your office naked with breakfast. Surely you can work out with that very clever brain of yours what I want."
Marc smirked. "Probably a good thing you did show up with breakfast or you might be needing to do a quick round of CPR if you fuck me." He held up his hand and pointed to a thick, white gold MedicAlert bracelet on his wrist. "I need to eat if I want to withhold my reputation with you."
Harri touched the MedicAlert bracelet. "Hm. The mystery of Mr Marcus Fraser starts to become a little bit clearer." Harri turned around to pick up one of the muffins and then settled herself in Marc's lap, easily balanced on top of him despite the fact his leg was propped up. She broke off a piece of the snack, and offered it to him. "Sex can wait. At least you know that I'll be ready and willing whenever you have the energy."
"Because I'm diabetic it's clearer?" Marc laughed and accepted the bite of the muffin. His hand automatically came to rest on her hip and he realised there was a trust bubbling between them here. An odd trust, but it was still there, nonetheless. He could shift his leg abruptly and she would fall to the floor. He was accepting food off her when food had always been his biggest enemy. It was interesting and something he would no doubt come to analyse later on when he was once again alone. "It would have been so much cooler if I told you the track markings were from crack needles. Even just to see if my cock remained appealing to you then."
Harri hadn't even analysed what was going on too closely, she was only going with what felt right. She broke off another piece of muffin; blueberry, and continued to feed him piece by piece. "I don't think it would have. A junkie is not something I wish to deal with, so it's better if you have diabetes." Harri cocked her head as she studied his face, looking at his eyes behind the glasses. "Would it have turned you off had you seen track marks down my arms?"
Marc remained outwardly calm at the question, though something sparked inside him. His reaction was passionate, but kept to himself. "I wouldn't have had anything to do with you," he said honestly. "Probably not for the reasons you would think. Definitely not for the reasons you would think," he corrected.
"So sure you know what I would think?" Harri asked, deeply amused. "I feel at a disadvantage since you can already read my mind, and understand me so quickly."
There was a hint of a smirk on Marc's lips. "I don't need to read your mind. I'm just confident in the fact my own mind is a pretty fucked up place and you wouldn't much enjoy trawling around it in for reasons or answers. Best to just take my word on things."
Harri pulled back slightly. A frown creased her forehead as she looked at him. "So is this you telling me that just sex is better for you? That you don't want to pursue anything beyond that one, very hot, and angry encounter?"
"You were angry. I was just amused," Marc revealed with a laugh. "Over the fact you were angry, no less. All I'm saying is that I might not be able to give you the answers you want and need. Let's just call me complicated. Sure you want to deal with that?"
"I was born to deal with that," Harri replied, her jaw set determinedly. "I'm not looking for every answer right this minute. I don't even know the questions yet. It's also only fair that you come with a warning since I do too. Just mine's more to do with not knowing what the fuck I'm doing past one night stands. It's been a long time for me. My current fling was a happy accident, and something that I've found myself enjoying." Harri looked away, and for a moment her vulnerability shone through. "Bottom line is I am lonely. You've made me crazy, but you got under my skin like no one else. I guess you're just something I need as well as want."
"I might not ever be able to give you the answers you need. I might not even let you ask the questions. My warning is that no one really knows who I am," Marc told her, watching her closely. He paused. "I used to know someone just like you. Someone who was even in a very similar position to you. He only saw what he really wanted when it was too late."
"Then I'll take it as an honour if I ever get to know the real you. Until then I will settle for whatever you can give me, because I don't ever want it to be too late." There, she'd said it. She'd admitted it. If she'd ever been capable of blushing from embarrassment she might have been doing so right now. Instead Harri just waited patiently to see if he still might turf her out on her shapely behind.
Marc cleared his throat and remained in silence for a few moments. "A date. No sex. If we get through that, we'll see what the lay of the land is," he offered.
Harri smiled. "I'll take it."
Harriet Ryan & Marcus Fraser
Original Character
Words: 2622
Marc tossed his spent Latte cup into the trash can in the foyer of Promantech and started to unzip his leather jacket as he made his way through the office. This level of the building was completely and totally revolved around a company that was, indeed, a medical and drug technologies company. Marc knew the job inside out from reading brief after brief on how everything worked and was to be run. He was the picture of a successful company owner with his finger on the very pulse pumping from the heart of the business. Today he had his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck and a small pair of slim designer reading glasses on his nose. They were fake, of course, but Marc wore glasses now and again and that's all there was to it. He gave a brief nod to his Personal Assistant when he arrived, but paid no attention to anyone in the waiting room as he swept into his office and kicked the door closed behind him.
Bollocks. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the rack in the corner of the office and then sat down at his desk to turn his laptop on. He was tired today. Blood sugar levels a little low, so he would have to watch himself. That was one part of James Campbell's life he couldn't have anyone erase at the drop of a hat. Marcus Fraser was diabetic, too, though apparently newly diagnosed and finding his feet with the illness. It was a miracle he wasn't cranky with Christmas veering as close as it was. This would be the first Christmas in his whole thirty years of life he wouldn't have with his family and it hurt. But a hurt he had to hide. A hurt he could distract himself from by getting extensively fucked at every turn.
This inevitably turned his mind to Harriet Ryan and he smirked, tapping in his password on the keyboard. He had no response to to his return 'correspondence'. Either she had given up, or she was strategically planning her next move. He hoped it wasn't the former. It would be a shame, just when he was starting to have fun. His intercom buzzed and he hit the call button. "What is it?" he asked.
"Your nine am appointment is here, Mr Fraser," his PA, Kirsty, announced.
Marc frowned. "I don't have a nine am."
"It was an urgent last minute booking, sir."
"Bollocks, Kirsty. I'm busy," Marc returned and went to hit the button but she cut him off.
"She was very insistent, sir..." Kirsty elaborated with that air to her tone that indicated his 'appointment' was listening to every word he was saying over the speaker phone. Fuck.
Marc scrunched his nose up and then rolled his eyes. "Send her in." He shook his head and ceased the call. "Gotta remember to fire my PA," he added to himself in a mutter.
"Really? And I thought she'd been very accommodating." Harriet Ryan had opened the door quietly, having waited outside it since Kirsty had buzzed Mr Fraser. In a way Harri had been grateful that Marcus had been caught up in his own little world while he'd walked through the waiting room. It meant her surprise was just that--a surprise. On the off chance Marc paid any attention to his appointment calender, Harri hadn't used her own name. There really was nothing she wouldn't do to obtain what she wanted.
And right now she wanted Marcus Fraser.
Her lips curved into a warm smile as she walked over to his desk and set down a paper bag with muffins and coffee inside. She was wearing a designer trench coat, the material closer to satin than anything that would have been effective had it been raining outside. "Good morning, Mr Fraser. Sleep well?"
Marc had to bite back an expletive. 'Surprise' didn't even begin to cut it on a morning he was off his game. "'Sleep' is such a relative concept," he replied and found the smirk enough within him for it to eventuate to his lips. He cleared his throat and his eyes raked over her body from behind the dark silver Armani frames. "Do I need to get my cheque book out?" he asked innocently.
Harri laughed softly. "Shouldn't you start with offering to take my coat first? It's only polite. Money should never be discussed before ten o'clock at least. It's why I loathe Wall Street."
"I pay people to do that for me," Marc said, not missing a beat. "I'm very, very rich and Wall Street is only good for fucking people over. Or just fucking people, if that is your taste."
Harri let out a sigh as if she was disappointed with his response. She tugged on the sash keeping the coat together, her porcelain flesh revealed as the instant it fell open. She slipped it off and laid it on the back of one of the chairs in front of Marc's desk. "I hate fucking brokers. That could be taken both ways. They're always thinking about money."
Marc's eyes remained firmly fixed on her and at first his expression was unreadable. His lips curled into a smile that was anything but innocent and and he casually rested his leg up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. "What do you think of the ones who are always thinking about sex?" he asked, his tone smooth.
Harri sat down, and crossed her legs as she regarded him. She liked the smile on his face, but her own expression was carefully neutral even if the sparkle in her blue eyes belayed her desire. "I think they know what's important in life. Money only gets one so far. A real body shattering orgasm is hard to come by." This time she allowed herself a small smirk. "Pardon the pun."
Marc gave a brief laugh. "Says who?" he commented smugly. "You wanted my nine am. No one gets my nine am. You must be a very early riser... which is more than I can say for myself. I take it you haven't come to discuss my highly intriguing," he glanced across his desk, "corporate statistics."
"As you said earlier 'sleep' is a relative concept. I've never been very good at it. I also don't believe in waiting when I know what I want and where to get it." Harri folded her hands in her lap, her breasts very much there for Marc's perusal. "You asked me how much I was willing to pay for what you have, but I'm not going to pay anything. Not as far as money goes."
Marc sat forward again and took a bottle of water from his top draw. He unscrewed the cap and rolled it between his fingers. "You want to offer me a fatted cow or something?" he asked in amusement and then took a long drink of water, still watching her as he swallowed.
Harri stood up to open the paper bag and get out the breakfast offering she'd brought with her. "No, I want to offer you myself. I don't do dating. I wouldn't even know where to start. Dinner seems redundant when take-out in bed seems much more conducive. As would taking meals separately. If I ask you to dinner, I'd really only be thinking about one thing anyway..." Harri arched an eyebrow slightly. "Just out of interest how do you feel about a woman who spends most of her time thinking about sex?"
Marc shrugged. "She can think all she wants. It's if she acts on it is what I care about," he told her and flicked the bottle cap across the sleek desktop. "So, you don't date, huh? Just sex. Don't you ever get lonely?"
Harri had finished setting out their breakfast, and she made her way around Marc's desk. If actions were something he wanted, she could oblige. She trailed her hand up his leg that was resting on the edge of his desk. "Of course. I have to admit that one benefit to dating would be going to sleep with someone beside me. I just don't feel like sleeping with a whole bunch of frogs to reach my prince." She leaned down to brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I'd rather just skip straight to my handsome and very well hung prince."
Marc turned his head so his lips were less than a centimetre away from hers. "You're used to getting what you want, aren't you?" he said lowly and then teasingly ran his tongue slowly across her lower lip. "And I'm used to getting what I want. The question is, do you want what I want?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy a challenge." She let out a small sigh as his tongue teased her lip, her eyes quickly darkening. She darted her head forward to catch his lip between her teeth, nipping at it. "Finding out what you want is why I'm here."
Marc afforded her a chaste kiss and then pulled back slightly. "I want a lot of things," he said evasively. "And I don't want just as many things. Like I said, it's all relative." He looked over her in amusement for a few moments, glancing briefly at the breakfast and then meeting her eyes again. "You slapped me, fucked me in an elevator, sent me free personal porn, and now show up to my office with breakfast. At some point, you're going to want something in return. What is it? Let me guess, you're an undercover cop and you want to strip search me?"
"While I wouldn't say no to a strip search..." Harri trailed off as her eyes moved to his crotch. "And let's not forget that you sent me your own free personal porn, I do want something in return. So far I'm getting it though, and it's not that painful, is it?" She raised both eyebrows as she offered him a smile. This conversation was doing enough to prove to her that he was more than his ten inches, even if it wasn't giving her much in the way of personal information. Still, there was plenty of time for that. "I would also like to correct you and clarify that I showed up at your office naked with breakfast. Surely you can work out with that very clever brain of yours what I want."
Marc smirked. "Probably a good thing you did show up with breakfast or you might be needing to do a quick round of CPR if you fuck me." He held up his hand and pointed to a thick, white gold MedicAlert bracelet on his wrist. "I need to eat if I want to withhold my reputation with you."
Harri touched the MedicAlert bracelet. "Hm. The mystery of Mr Marcus Fraser starts to become a little bit clearer." Harri turned around to pick up one of the muffins and then settled herself in Marc's lap, easily balanced on top of him despite the fact his leg was propped up. She broke off a piece of the snack, and offered it to him. "Sex can wait. At least you know that I'll be ready and willing whenever you have the energy."
"Because I'm diabetic it's clearer?" Marc laughed and accepted the bite of the muffin. His hand automatically came to rest on her hip and he realised there was a trust bubbling between them here. An odd trust, but it was still there, nonetheless. He could shift his leg abruptly and she would fall to the floor. He was accepting food off her when food had always been his biggest enemy. It was interesting and something he would no doubt come to analyse later on when he was once again alone. "It would have been so much cooler if I told you the track markings were from crack needles. Even just to see if my cock remained appealing to you then."
Harri hadn't even analysed what was going on too closely, she was only going with what felt right. She broke off another piece of muffin; blueberry, and continued to feed him piece by piece. "I don't think it would have. A junkie is not something I wish to deal with, so it's better if you have diabetes." Harri cocked her head as she studied his face, looking at his eyes behind the glasses. "Would it have turned you off had you seen track marks down my arms?"
Marc remained outwardly calm at the question, though something sparked inside him. His reaction was passionate, but kept to himself. "I wouldn't have had anything to do with you," he said honestly. "Probably not for the reasons you would think. Definitely not for the reasons you would think," he corrected.
"So sure you know what I would think?" Harri asked, deeply amused. "I feel at a disadvantage since you can already read my mind, and understand me so quickly."
There was a hint of a smirk on Marc's lips. "I don't need to read your mind. I'm just confident in the fact my own mind is a pretty fucked up place and you wouldn't much enjoy trawling around it in for reasons or answers. Best to just take my word on things."
Harri pulled back slightly. A frown creased her forehead as she looked at him. "So is this you telling me that just sex is better for you? That you don't want to pursue anything beyond that one, very hot, and angry encounter?"
"You were angry. I was just amused," Marc revealed with a laugh. "Over the fact you were angry, no less. All I'm saying is that I might not be able to give you the answers you want and need. Let's just call me complicated. Sure you want to deal with that?"
"I was born to deal with that," Harri replied, her jaw set determinedly. "I'm not looking for every answer right this minute. I don't even know the questions yet. It's also only fair that you come with a warning since I do too. Just mine's more to do with not knowing what the fuck I'm doing past one night stands. It's been a long time for me. My current fling was a happy accident, and something that I've found myself enjoying." Harri looked away, and for a moment her vulnerability shone through. "Bottom line is I am lonely. You've made me crazy, but you got under my skin like no one else. I guess you're just something I need as well as want."
"I might not ever be able to give you the answers you need. I might not even let you ask the questions. My warning is that no one really knows who I am," Marc told her, watching her closely. He paused. "I used to know someone just like you. Someone who was even in a very similar position to you. He only saw what he really wanted when it was too late."
"Then I'll take it as an honour if I ever get to know the real you. Until then I will settle for whatever you can give me, because I don't ever want it to be too late." There, she'd said it. She'd admitted it. If she'd ever been capable of blushing from embarrassment she might have been doing so right now. Instead Harri just waited patiently to see if he still might turf her out on her shapely behind.
Marc cleared his throat and remained in silence for a few moments. "A date. No sex. If we get through that, we'll see what the lay of the land is," he offered.
Harri smiled. "I'll take it."
Harriet Ryan & Marcus Fraser
Original Character
Words: 2622