Overworked and Worked Over Ch. 03

Lara just knew that sex with Malcolm couldn't be utterly earth-shattering every time. So she braced herself each time for something a little more "normal." Apparently, earth-shattering WAS normal for Malcolm Grayson. In the week that followed, they'd spent nearly every night together and she'd decided she was the luckiest woman in the world. She'd never felt so close to someone on so many levels—and so completely happy and satisfied.

Malcolm couldn't get enough of Lara. He'd worried that she'd think he was taking up all of her time, coming on too strong, but she seemed as eager as he was to make plans with him. And his dick had a mind of its own lately. He'd watch Lara before they got in bed, rubbing in her hand cream, glasses askew, hair a mess; and his dick would get hard. He saw her on the phone at work, twirling the cord between her fingers, blowing her bangs off her forehead; and his dick got hard. He loved the quirkiest things about her (and was dangerously close to being plain-old, head-over-heels in love with her). He felt like she got him, understood him like nobody else ever had.

"So, I had an interesting phone call this morning."

Malcolm looked up from his paperwork to see Lara standing in his office door. It was a few minutes before 5pm on Friday and he was just about finished with the motion he needed to file the next week.

"Oh yeah?" he said, continuing to make notes but grinning, "Tell me about it while I finish this, I'm listening."

"Well," she began, sauntering in and seating herself in one of the high-backed chairs that faced him, "I answered the phone and a woman said, 'Is this Lara Spencer?' I told her yes and she immediately asked me if I was coming with you to the birthday party tomorrow. I was confused, of course, and asked her 'what birthday party?'"

Malcolm looked up at her again, eyebrow raised. "Shit. Lia and Mia's birthday party is tomorrow?"

"She got a little agitated then, saying she was gonna go off on you when she sees you," Lara said, eyeing him coyly, "I told her that I would talk to you this afternoon and remind you to RSVP."

"Good, sorry about that—when Misha doesn't get what she wants ASAP, she finds a way around it. I was going to invite you; I thought it was next weekend though."

Lara frowned and recrossed her legs. "Are you sure you want me to go? I know it's a family thing and it may be too soon."

"No, I definitely want you to go, as long as you're cool with it. What else did Misha say?"

"Well, when I told her I'd remind you to RSVP, she said, 'RSVP? My ass. It's at 3pm tomorrow and y'all both better be there.' Then she gave me the address."

Malcolm shook his head and organized the folders on his desk, finished with his work. "So what did you say?"

"Hell, I said "yes, ma'am," what do you think I said?" Lara said, laughing, "Was she a drill sergeant?"

Malcolm just shook his head and smiled, "No, but she could've been. Do you mind if we stop by and pick up some gifts while we're out tonight?"

"Of course not," Lara said, "They're turning 3, right?"

"Yep, my baby girls are not babies anymore."

"You're so sweet," Lara said as they walked to their cars, hand in hand.

"Come in, come in," Cedric said, holding the front door open for Lara and Malcolm, "Good to see you again Lara, how's the Maxima?"

"Running just fine, Cedric, good to see you too."

"What up, Ced?" Malcolm asked, pulling his brother-in-law in for a manly hug.

"Dodging these crumb-snatchers," Cedric said, chuckling, "You ever been attacked by a mob of 3 year olds?"

"Is that Malcolm and Lara?" Misha yelled from the kitchen.

"Stop all that yellin' woman!" Malcolm yelled back to her.

"You hush," she said as she bustled out of the kitchen, "I can't believe Uncle Malcolm nearly forgot the babies' birthday." She smacked his arm as he pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek.

"Lara, it is so nice to meet you!" she said smiling, "I've heard nothing but good things from baby bro here."

"Nice to meet you too, Misha!" the women embraced but were pushed apart by a parade of kids that ran through the house.

"Sorry about that," Misha said, yelling for the kids to stop running, "Come on in the kitchen, everything is just about ready."

Lara allowed herself to be led away by Malcolm's sister, falling into conversation easily. Lara met several more family members, Malcolm's mother, his aunts and uncles, a mob of cousins, and several other couples that Misha and Cedric were friends with. Apparently, word of Malcolm's "girlfriend" had spread like wildfire through the family—everyone wanted to know all about her. Despite the interrogation and plethora of new faces, Lara didn't feel overwhelmed. She had just as many questions for these people that loved Malcolm. She was just amazed that she'd been involved with Malcolm for a week and already she was being so warmly welcomed into his family.

There were a buffet table full of appetizers and finger foods, pitchers of sweet tea, and a huge decorated cake. The party easily transitioned from food to cake to gifts to games. By 7pm, the younger kids were tuckered out—those parents were saying an early goodnight. Misha and Cedric's son had invited another 7 year old and they were happily situated in front of the TV in his room playing a video game.

The few remaining adults were enjoying a drink and everyone had made their way to the family room. Malcolm was sitting with his uncle and Cedric, playing dominoes at the dining room table. He was distracted by Lara. She was sitting on the couch with his mother, Misha, and an auntie. She was talking animatedly, he could tell by her hands and facial expressions. He could only hear a little of the conversation. He tried to focus on the game.

"Oh, you'll have to ask him that, Mrs. Grayson," Lara said, stealing a glance at Malcolm, "I think it might be a little soon for that." He raised his eyebrow, obviously having heard her comment. She shook her head and focused on his mother once again. She'd just asked Lara if Malcolm was in love with her yet.

"So, he told you about the shit that went down in Cincy, right?" Misha asked her bluntly.

"Misha, stop all that cussin'!" Mrs. Grayson scolded, "He told you what that girl accused him of though, didn't he?"

Lara eyes widened a bit, but she nodded.

"What did you say when he told you?" his aunt asked. The three women leaned closer toward Lara, waiting skeptically for her response.

"Well, y'all know him better than I do, but it was obvious to me that he's not capable of doing anything so evil," Lara said, honestly. The three women nodded—Misha smiled. Lara continued, "I mean, he's been nothing but 100% sweet with me."

That drew a cackle of laughter from Misha, and she responded loudly, teasing so Malcolm could hear, "Sweet? My brother?"

"Hey, hey," he said, washing the dominoes, "You're not supposed to talk about me while I'm not there to defend myself."

Misha leaned in again, whispering this time, "That bitch just about did him in. He hasn't been involved with a woman since. That's why we've all been so eager to meet you."

"Well, it's been kind of sudden," Lara explained, "Malcolm has definitely been a nice surprise."

Mrs. Grayson looked over at her son, joking and laughing with Cedric, and closed her eyes. She reopened them and spoke softly to Lara, "He deserves some happiness. He's a good man."

Misha stood to go clean up the kitchen and Lara joined her. As they walked by the men at the table, Misha squeezed her husband's shoulders, then playfully squeezed the back of Malcolm's neck. He hunched over, elbowing her away.

Lara smiled, loving the camaraderie the siblings shared. She adored his entire family. Misha, loud and bossy, was perfectly matched to Cedric, the quiet but protective one. Mrs. Grayson was so nurturing and kind—she'd not stopped smiling at Lara since they'd met. And his nieces and nephew were adorable and definitely the most polite children she'd ever met. He was so lucky.

"Are you okay?" Malcolm asked as they were driving back to his place. Lara had been unusually quiet and he was worried somebody had said something to upset her.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm fine."

He glanced over and realized she was wiping tears away.

"Don't cry," he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand, "What's wrong? Did Misha say something? I swear to God—"

"No!" Lara interrupted, "Everything was perfect—is perfect. I'm just being a baby."

"About what?"

Lara sighed, feeling vulnerable.

They pulled into his apartment complex and he parked but made no move to get out of the truck. He turned and tilted her chin so she'd have to look at him. The tears made her eyes sparkle and the lashes stick together thickly. He used a thumb to wipe them away.

"Your family is so great," she started, "It just reminded me how much I wish I had a family like that. Or a family at all."

He opened the door then and walked around to her side. He held the door open for her and helped her out. As soon as she stood, he pulled her into a hug. She sighed, never having felt so protected in all her life, and clung to him.

This wasn't a sexual embrace—it was a comfort, a promise of sorts.

"You're not alone, Lara."

"I know."

She lay there in the dark, nestled up against Malcolm and couldn't help but get emotional again. He hadn't demanded or even asked for anything from her that night. He put in a movie and covered her up with a blanket on his couch. He showered and came out in pajama pants, sitting at her feet until the movie ended. She followed him into his room, took a shower of her own, and then pulled on one of his t-shirts to sleep in. They crawled into bed together—he wrapped an arm around her, kissed her on the lips then forehead and held her hand while he fell asleep.

Something was tugging on him. Gently. Insistently. He was dreaming. Wasn't he? Yes, he was dreaming about Lara. He could feel her tugging at him slowly, her hand, her lips, her tongue. Jesus, he hadn't had a dream like this in a while. He felt her other hand braced against his thigh, slurping noises pulling him from the dream just a bit. His head was clearing but the sensations were the same.

Fuck! He groaned, feeling the pressure rise up in his balls, knew his dick was rock hard in her mouth. He opened his eyes. This was not a dream.

Lara woke up wanting Malcolm. Not necessarily to have sex with him (though she would have, had he been awake). But she wanted him. She could feel his morning erection pressed against her butt but knew he was still snoring softly. She rolled him on his back and took his dick in her hand. It pulsed gently and hardened even more. She looked up at him to be sure he was still asleep and then leaned forward, licking the head like a lollipop. He tensed, but continued to breathe deeply, eyes closed. She started moving her mouth and tongue up and down over his dick, moving her hand in tandem along the shaft. She used her other hand to hold herself up and could feel his hips start to move with her strokes.

It wasn't long before his hips started bucking and his eyes flashed open, immediately locking with hers. He reached forward and held her head still, forcing more of his dick more deeply in her throat. She was nearly gagging with each stroke, but she held on so he could come.

"Aaarrraaghh!!! Yes, baby, ooh fuck, FUCK!!!" he bellowed, tensing and unloading all in Lara's mouth. Her soft tongue continued to lap against his sensitive flesh and he grunted and pushed in and out each time another stream of sperm shot out.

She didn't let up, holding his softening dick in her mouth, licking it clean. She could taste him, smell him—she finally pulled her mouth away and swallowed.

She slid her body up his until she could lay her head on his shoulder. He was still trying to catch his breath but wrapped his arms loosely around her.

"Good morning," she whispered against his neck.

"Good morning," he said, still panting slowly, "You're going to be the death of me, Lara Spencer."

She shook her head and relaxed against him, pulling the covers over them both.

"What a way to go," he whispered back, at her temple.

Several weeks passed, and Lara knew she was in love. Her life had blended so perfectly with Malcolm's that she felt like they'd always been together. She was utterly and completely blissful. So when the copper-haired Victoria's Secret model look-a-like walked into the office, she was totally unprepared for what happened next. Lara overheard her speaking to the receptionist on her way to the copy room.

"I'm here to see Malcolm Grayson," the woman said, her voice sharp and commanding, "Can you please tell him Samantha McGregor and her attorney are here?"

"Yes, just a minute, Ms. McGregor. Please have a seat."

Lara could see the woman in a navy skirt and jacket in the reception area. She swept her shoulder-length hair to the side as she perched on the edge of a chair. Her legs crossed seductively and her pouty lips were frowning. Her attorney was an attractive older Hispanic man in a gray suit—he was leaning toward her, speaking quietly.

Lara almost didn't give the woman another thought—she knew she was here to see Malcolm, but he dealt with clients every day. They weren't usually so beautiful, but she wasn't worried. She lugged the file to the copy machine and got busy. She absent-mindedly glanced out the door to see Malcolm striding past, toward Mr. Singer's office. She stepped to the doorway just in time to see the door close behind Malcolm.

"Strange," Lara muttered to herself. If Malcolm had a client waiting, why would he be disappearing into Singer's office? She continued making copies and was startled to see both Singer and Malcolm walk past the copy room again. She trotted over to the doorway again. This time, she saw Malcolm and Mr. Singer heading into Malcolm's office. She saw the copper-headed woman sitting there as well, just as the door closed. Lara was usually not so worried about the goings-on in the office, but there was something about Samantha McGregor that raised red flags.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Malcolm said to himself when the receptionist buzzed to announce his visitor. He'd acted on impulse when he asked the receptionist to show them into his office and he took off like a shot to consult with Mr. Singer as soon as he hung the phone up. There was no way in hell he was going to be locked in an office with her and her attorney without another witness—Mr. Singer knew a bit about his previous issues and he wanted to make sure Samantha knew he wasn't playing games. He quickly knocked on Singer's door and pushed it open.

"Mr. Singer, I apologize, but I need to discuss something with you quickly."

He briefly explained and Mr. Singer stood and pulled his jacket on as they both walked out of the office.

"What the fuck is she doing here, Grayson?" Singer asked, whispering as they walked down the hallway.

"Sir, I don't have the slightest idea. I just didn't want to be in a room with the bitch without another witness."

"Smart thinking—let's go see what she wants."

"Ms. McGregor, Mr. Rodriguez, this is Christopher Singer," Malcolm started as he headed for the chair behind his desk. Mr. Singer shook hands with both Samantha and Mr. Rodriguez before pulling another chair over to sit to Malcolm's right.

"What can I do for you?" Malcolm said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Well," Mr. Rodriguez began, "My client wanted to discuss the matter of a paternity test, as well as subsequent child support payments for a child she attests that you fathered. We wanted to bring the matter to your attention before continuing on with the appropriate legal actions."

"You deceitful, petty bitch."

"Mr. Grayson, calm down," Mr. Singer said, his shock apparent but slowly disappearing from his face, "Mr. Rodriguez, surely a face-to-face visit was unnecessary, if not damn-near inappropriate, considering the background of the situation."

"My client wanted to be as civil as possible, since she and Mr. Grayson are now the parents to a 1 year old child."

"Serve me with the papers. I'll take the goddamned paternity test. But your brat isn't mine."

"Malcolm, she is your daughter. Her name is Sasha Elaine Grayson," Samantha held up a picture of a chubby little girl with a honey-colored complexion, brown eyes, and a shock of muted copper hair. She slid it across the desk to him. He swiped it onto the floor.

"Get out."

"We'll be sending the paperwork over for the paternity test," Mr. Rodriguez advised, "Once that is confirmed, we will set something up to discuss child support. Thank you for your time." He stood and Mr. Singer hurried around to open the door. Samantha stood as well, smoothing her skirt. Then she leaned over the desk where Malcolm still sat, eyes shooting daggers.

"I knew I was going to make you pay one day," she whispered, smiling. Then she walked away.

"Of all the unprofessional, devious, bullshit excuses to bring a client into an office," Mr. Singer said, exasperated, falling into one of the chairs.

"Thanks for sitting through that with me," Malcolm said, rubbing his temples, "I thought this shit was over."

"How'd you land that one?"

"Just lucky, I guess. If I had to do it over, I'd never have touched her. It wasn't worth it."

"Pussy never is, Grayson."

He looked up at his boss to see him smirking.

"Get it taken care of and let me know if you need anything. I've gotta be in court in a couple of hours."

"Thanks, sir."

Malcolm said he wasn't feeling well—he'd seemed to be a in a terrible mood. So when she suggested he go home and she'd stay at her own place that night, she wasn't too concerned when he easily accepted. They both deserved a little alone time, every once in a while. Malcolm headed over to Misha and Cedric's for dinner. Lara headed to Walgreens.

"That fucking cunt!" Misha yelled, "She had the nerve to just show up at your job?"

"Calm down, Misha," Cedric said, "This isn't about you."

"Yeah, she just walked in with her attorney and dropped the bomb. I'm supposedly the father of her child. She leaned over the desk and told me she knew she'd make me pay one day."

"That whore had the unmitigated gall to tell you that?" Misha asked, livid with rage, "I'ma whoop her ass!"

"Misha, don't talk all that tough shit," Malcolm said wearily, "I don't think it's mine. I was always careful with her—I used a condom nearly every time. She was always trying to catch me without one, but I was pretty diligent."

"It only takes one time, bro," Cedric said, pondering the situation, "What did Lara say?"

"I haven't told her yet."

"What?!" Misha said, flying off the handle again, "Why the fuck not? She deserves to know, Malcolm. This will affect her life too."

"I don't know—I"

"You need to march your ass home right now and tell her."

"I can't just—I mean—I"

"What are you trying to say?" Misha said, reaching out to hold her brother's hands, "What are you scared of Baby Bro?"

"She might leave me." His voice cracked at the end, like he was trying to hold back his emotions.

Cedric shook his head and put a hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. He knew what he was going through. He couldn't bear the thought of Misha walking out on him.

"Aw, Malcolm," Misha said, pulling him in for a hug, "I've never seen you like this. You love Lara."

"I do, Misha. I love her. I can't risk her leaving. And I don't want to drag her into my mess."

"Malcolm, I don't know Lara like you do. But I can tell, she loves you too," MIsha explained, "And I think it'd take a lot more than this to ever push her away. Matter of fact, I bet she'd be more ready to whoop the bitch's ass than I was."

Malcolm smiled, taking a deep breath. His sister was right. He was going to get this over with. With Lara by his side, he knew he'd be able to face Samantha and her evil schemes.