Unprofessional

Unprofessional
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- Another modern AU! But unlike the college AU, this is a one shot. This was inspired by the edit TheChoicesVita did of Antony in a suit (yum) and inspired by a conversation with the amazing Boneandfur. Thank you to Boneandfur, Lizeboredom and Wughhumans for letting me bounce ideas off them. With an AU a lot of the process is making sure the characters stay true to themselves and it helps to get a second opinion.
Rating- NSFW
Pairing- Marc Antony x MC
Summary- Portia applies for a job at the Caesar Corporation and meets her new boss, Marc Antony King, and suddenly knows that she is going to have a hard time keeping their relationship strictly professional.

I took a deep breath as I stepped into the foyer of the glitzy high rise, I needed this job. My roommate Sabina was a sweetheart but I needed to pull my weight and this job would help me do that.

Hopefully, I could convince the Caesar corporation that I was the best candidate and I wasn’t above using every asset I had, which was why my skirt bordered on inappropriately short and my shirt cut low enough to give a tantalizing view.

My mother would be horrified, but Mom didn’t have to pay New York rent.

“Miss Scott?”

A no-nonsense woman in her 40s came out, holding a clipboard. Her face turned up into a disapproving frown as she took in my outfit and I fought to keep my dismay off my face.

“This way,” she told me, “I’m Andrea Wells, Mr. King’s assistant.” I wondered which Mr. King she worked for, father or son. She led me to a conference room and motioned for me to sit down, “now Miss Scott, it says here—“ she began but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

Both Ms. Wells and I turned towards the door. My breath caught at the sight of the man standing there. Tall and darkly handsome, his suit fitting snugly around obviously broad shoulders. This was a man any woman would notice.

Marc Antony King. Heir to the Caesar corporation and darling of the gossip blogs. .

“Oh, good, you’ve just begun,” he commented, crossing the room, and pulling out an empty chair, “‘I’ll take it from here.”

Ms. Wells sputtered, “Sir, your father instructed me to conduct the interviews.” So she worked for the father, did that mean it was the son who needed an assistant?

“I think my father will understand my need to choose my own assistant,” he said coolly, the warning in his tone unmistakable. “After all, my needs… differ from his.” His eyes fell on me, lingering at my cleavage. “You can go.”

She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t argue either, she gathered her materials and left the room.

“So Ms. Scott,” how did he know my name?, “tell me why I should hire you.”

I met his eyes boldly, running my tongue over my bottom lip as I did so, noting the way his eyes followed it and the unmistakable desire stirring there. My strategy wouldn’t have worked on Ms. Wells, but it would work on him. Was I actually willing to fuck my boss for a job? If that boss was Antony King, then, hell yeah. There weren’t many women who would be willing to pass up an opportunity to bed the bad boy of the business world.

“I am a hard worker,” I told him, “I take pride in my performance and will have no complaint with long hours and late nights.” I leaned forward, his eyes drifting from my lips to my cleavage as I did so, “work will be my first priority and you’ll find I’m very eager to please.”

“Is that so?” Antony asked, a heated look in his eyes, “I have to warn you, I can be very demanding.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” I promised with a seductive smile.

“I hope so,” he told me, “because you’re hired.”

My eyes widened. Just like that?

“Don”t look so surprised,” he told me, getting to his feet, “I’m a man who knows what I want and I go after it.” He held out a hand and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. But he kept the hand in his, even when I was standing, in fact, he tugged me closer.

“And what do you what?” I asked in a breathy voice, knowing that if he told me he wanted to fuck me over that conference table I would agree. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I always found that the things I shouldn’t do were the most fun.

His eyes slid up and down my body and I could tell from the heat in his eyes that he liked what he saw. “I want you,” he told me in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he was talking about the weather, “but don’t worry, I am not going to proposition you.”

He wasn’t? A rush of disappointment filled me, which was perverse. I should be grateful to not have to trade sexual favors for a job.

“When I take you to bed it’ll because you what me as badly as I want you,” he told me, leaning close, his breath tickling my neck, “not because you want a job. So for now, I’ll be a proper, respectful boss.” With that, he dropped my hand and stepped back. “I’ll see you on Monday, Ms. Scott, and don’t worry, I never start before noon.”

And with that, he strode from the room, leaving me staring after him, still trying to process what had happened. I had gotten the job! And my new boss had informed me that he intended to fuck me, but not until I begged him too.

Which I wouldn’t. I told myself this was better. I knew he wanted me and I’d use that to my advantage without actually having to sleep my way into the job, no matter how sexy my boss was.

**

A month later, my resolve was crumbling.

A month of hot gazes and lingering touches. Antony kept his word and never outright propositioned me, but he made it clear that he wanted me with every gaze and touch, pushing my self-control to the brink.

As a distraction, I focused on my job. Despite his bad boy reputation, his questionable hiring practices, and non-traditional work hours, Antony was actually very good at his job and being his assistant kept me busy. It had been a little overwhelming at first, especially dealing with the disapproving Julius King, who seemed to know exactly why his son had hired me.

But I had just worked as hard as I could and after a month, the pointed comments had stopped and he seemed almost impressed. He was still cold and impatient, but now I was pretty sure it was about that being how he treated everyone not anything personal against me and I’d take it as a win.

“Portia, I’m going to need you to stay late tonight,” Antony told me when it would have been time for me to go home, his hand brushing the small of my back, “I am expecting an important call and I have some paperwork to go over.”

“Whatever you need,” I told him instantly. This was my job after all. Besides, it wasn’t like I had plans.

Antony rose an eyebrow, “so eager, it’s one of the things I like best about you.” His hand slid down my back to rest on my ass. I wondered if I should object, but my heart was racing too fast to form a coherent thought. “I was worried I might be interfering with your social life, a hot date maybe?”

His expression was casual, but there was a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“No,” I assured him, “I don’t even have plans with my roommate because she went to visit her parents.”

Antony relaxed slightly.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a hot date,” I countered. Antony and his romantic escapades were one of the hottest topics of office gossip. If the stories were to be believed, he was not suffering from a lack of companionship. But why should he? He was rich, powerful and incredibly sexy. Most women would throw themselves at his feet without a second thought.

I kept telling myself that I wasn’t most women, but when he was standing so close, it was hard to remember that.

“You don’t believe work is my priority?” Antony teased, “Or have you been listening to office gossip?”

I blushed.

Antony laughed. “I see you have.” He pulled me closer, flush against him, lowering his mouth to my ear. “And what have they been saying? Have they been warning you against your big bad boss?’

Surprisingly, no. There were no dire warnings, maybe because half the secretarial pool would kill to have Antony’s attention on them.

“Should they have?” I asked, gazing up at him from underneath my lashes.

“Definitely,” Antony told me and then to my dismay, he removed his hand and stepped back. “I’ll need those files.”

I wasn’t sure what had just happened and I immediately felt the loss of contact. Why had he pulled away? I glanced over at Antony and saw him watching me carefully, his eyes full of dark heat and I realized this was a test. He’d meant what he said, he wasn’t going to proposition me.

If I wanted him, I’d have to be the one to initiate it. Could I do it? Could I seduce my boss?

I pondered that question as Antony and I worked through the evening, long after the rest of the building had gone home. We stopped to order in food and as we ate, sitting side by side on the leather couch in his office, I watched him. He had long discarded his jacket and tie, his shirt sleeves rolled up and he looked even sexier than usual. Disheveled worked for him and it made me wonder what he’d look like after a round of hot sex.

I wasn’t sure but I knew I wanted to find out. I wanted him. There was no denying that and I knew he wanted me. But he had set the terms and I actually appreciated it, because it meant I’d be doing this because I wanted to and not for a job. Though, I did wonder would it mean for my job, would he dismiss me when he was done with me? Could I continue to work with him as if nothing happened? I didn’t know, but I did know that I wouldn’t be able to the sexual tension for much longer with and giving in at least would give me immediate satisfaction. I could deal with the consequences later.

“Portia, do you want anything else?” Antony asked, breaking into my thoughts.

“Yes,” I answered him, decision made, “but not food.”

Antony took in a swift breath, his expression unreadable. “Say it,” he demanded, his hand reaching out and pulling me onto his lap, our food forgotten.

“I want you,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his neck, “Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Antony wrapped his hand around my hair, pulling me into him for a deep, demanding kiss. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he confessed.

“When you walked into the conference room,” I commented, thanking whatever god or random twist of fate had sent him there.

“No, in the lobby,” he corrected, “I saw you and I was about to approach you when I saw Andrea talk to you and realized you were here for an interview. I knew she’d never hire you, so I decided to intervene.”

“You wanted me that much, huh?” I tease, pressing a light kiss to his mouth.

He quickly deepened it. “Yes,” He admitted between kisses, “the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you.” There was an intensity in his voice that sent a shiver through me, but in a good way. “Tell me you feel the same.”

“I do,” I promised. I bit my lip. “I’ve spent almost every night falling asleep, thinking about you.”

“Is that so?” Antony asked, his hand sliding to my things and parting them, my short skirt riding up as he did so, his hands warm against my bare skin, “and what do you think about?” His hand crept up, cuping me through my underwear, which was now soaked. “Did you imagine me touching you like this?”

“Yes,” I breathed, pressing myself closer to his hand, desperate for his touch. “Oh yes,” I whispered as he pushed the fabric aside, sliding a finger inside of me. “Ohhh.”

“Does that feel good?” He asked, as he inserted another finger inside me, pumping them in and out at a leisurely pace that had me aching for more.

“Yes!” I moaned, “Oh, yes…” He sped up his pace, his free hand grabbing my hair again and pulling me into another deep kiss. HIs tongue invading my mouth and seeking dominance as he fucked me with his hand.

It wasn’t long before, hands clench in his shoulders, my moans muffled by his mouth.

“Good girl,” Antony instructed, withdrawing his hand. He grinned, “you are so fucking sexy when you come.” He held his fingers up to my mouth and I sucked them eagerly , tasting my own juices mixed with the saltiness of his skin.

Antony watched me as I sucked on his fingers, his expression one of unmistakable hunger. “Stand up,” he ordered once he removed his hand.

I did as he was told, my skirt still up around my hips. I moved to smooth it down, but Antony stopped me.

“On the desk,” he instructed, inclining his head.

I did as he instructed, perching on the edge of his big desk. My skirt still bunch up, my underwear back in place.

“Take those off,” Antony added as he joined me at the desk, running his hand over the lace.

I leaned down and slowly inched the fabric over my legs, knowing that Antony was watching my every move.

“Now your blouse,” Antony told me, his hands positioned on the desk on either side of me.

I carefully undid each button and then slid the material off my shoulders, leaving only my black lace bra. I reached to undo that, but Antony stopped me.

“Not yet,” He told me, his hand covering mine.

He ran his gaze over my nearly naked form, I’m sure I made quite the picture, in just my bra with my skirt at my waist, but Antony’s expression made it seem like I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

He knelt before me, positioning my leg over his shoulder. He trailed his lips up my thighs, licking a wide stripe before sliding his tongue inside me while his thumb found my clit. “Ohhh!” He was good at this, really good. The combination of mouth and hands soon had me on the edge again and as his tongue plunged in and out of me, I came again, my hands clinging to the hard wood of the desk.

As I came down, I reached for him, pulling him up towards me. “I need you,” I instructed, “Please.”

“What do you want from me?” Antony asked, obviously he was going to draw this out and make me say it.

“I want you to fuck me,’ I cried.

“Your wish is my command,” He promised and then he was moving away and hastily shoving his pants and underwear to the ground,  grabbing a foil packet from his wallet and quickly putting it on, then he was back and I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer as he lined himself up against my entrance.

I let alone a sigh of pleasure as he entered me in one swift stroke. He stilled, giving me a moment to adjust to him and then he began to move, his movements very controlled and leisurely, as if he wanted to draw the experience out. I tightened my legs, trying to draw him closer and make him speed up.

“You feel so fucking good,” he told me in a low voice, his hand moving to cup my breasts through the lace of the bra. “And you look good too, you were made for this.”

“To be fucked on my boss’s desk?” I quipped, even if the words came out in a bit of a breathy moan.

“To be fucked hard and often,” Antony corrected, “and I plan on doing just that.” He sped up his movements then, as his fingers played with my breasts through the fabric of my bra, teasing my nippled into hard points, his other hand gripping my hip and pulling me closer to him. His lips trailed my neck and shoulder, sucking and biting as he did.

The combination of his mouth, hands and body was too much and I came again, shouting his name. I was glad the building was empty.

Antony’s hand dug in harder as I clenched around him and his thrusts got erratic. “Portia,” he groaned, pulling out and then slamming back into me. He tenseed and then collapsed against me as he came. He brushed a kiss across my lips and then pulled back, easily discarding the condom and tossing it in the wastebasket.

To my surprise, he reached for me again, lifting me up and carrying me back to the couch. He laid me down on my back, easing my skirt off my hips as he did so and throwing it to the floor. Next, he reached for my bra, tossing it aside with equal disregard. He crouched over me and lowered his mouth to my breast, sucking on one rosy peak and making me gasp as his hand moved between my legs once more.

“Shouldn’t we be working?” I gasped.

“We should,” he agreed, raising his head from my breasts, “but I rarely do what I should. I prefer to do what I want. And right now I want to fuck you on every surface of this office before I take you home to my bed and keep you there all weekend. How does that sound?”

“Good,” I admitted with a sigh as his fingers slid into me again. I wasn’t sure it sounded wise, but it sounded good. I wanted this, probably far more than I should. He was still my boss and this situation had all kinds of complications, but as his fingers pumped in and out of me and his mouth found my breasts again, it was impossible to think rationally.

Plus I was already damned, I’d already crossed the line and fucked my boss, I might as well get as much pleasure out of the situation as I could. What was the harm in allowing myself one weekend of the best sex I’d ever had before reality kicked in?

• End