Chapter 126

MADDISON

Nothing beats a little retail therapy after a draining and, let’s be honest, distressing session with your therapist, right? Except in my case, it’s only possible because of Asher, since I haven’t received my first paycheck yet.

He insists he doesn’t mind. He even arranged a shopping date with his sister, Ella, which only makes things increasingly uncomfortable for me. I can’t help but worry she’ll see me as a gold digger, sticking around for the financial security her brother provides.

I roll my eyes at my own pessimistic thoughts. But I can’t back out now, not after Asher set up this shopping excursion while he’s at work with Callum. He’s been working every day this week, so our schedules keep clashing due to my late-night shifts.

Still, he manages to stay awake long enough to welcome me home with a kiss and hold me as we both collapse into sleep, worn out from the day. It’s a bit sad, if I’m being honest, but I guess that’s just how life goes.

So, like the good girl I am, I meet Ella in the lobby. Unfortunately for me, she’s with Zach, who’s showering her with the kind of affection any father should. The only silver lining is Ella herself, acting as a buffer.

She’s the spitting image of her mother, with long, flowing red hair, though Ella’s is about half the length of Violet’s. She’s stunning, with full lips and the most unique eyes I’ve ever seen—one a deep blue, the other a muddy brown.

She spots me right away, greeting me enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. I still can’t believe how seamlessly I’ve integrated into Asher’s family, or how lucky I am to have a man who genuinely cares for me by my side.

The thought is so alien to me, yet here I am, exceeding my own expectations.

“Maddy, you look wonderful,” Ella says, giving me a side hug that catches me off guard with its warmth.

“Thanks,” I reply.

“Maddy. How are you?” Zach asks, making me feel a bit shaky in the white sneakers I got at the treatment center.

They’re hideous and not my style at all, but I’m hoping to buy a few things today—with the intention of paying Asher back as soon as my paycheck hits the bank account Violet helped me open.

Violet has been a huge help, actually. She gathered all my important documents, helped me file a restraining order against my mother, and even had it served to her.

As I’ve said before, and at the risk of sounding like a broken record, this family has treated me better than anyone else I’ve ever known.

“I’m okay,” is all I say, keeping my response brief and my demeanor friendly, hoping to limit my interaction with Zach.

But he’s clearly looking for more.

“How’s working with Atticus?” he asks.

“He’s very understanding,” I admit, because he is.

“And how are things with Asher?”

“Great…”

He smiles and nods, glancing at his watch before leaning down to kiss Ella on the top of her head.

“Everything’s on me. Get whatever you two need,” he says before leaving, catching me off guard and leaving me standing there, stunned.

“Come on then. Don’t you just love shopping?”

I nod at Ella, taken aback by his generosity and determined not to let her buy me a single thing with his card.

We go from store to store, trying on clothes and shoes. I only pick out versatile pieces that can be worn multiple times and in different combinations.

I also get some sneakers and ballet flats for work because the heels are really hurting my ankles. I asked Atticus if that was okay, and of course, he told me to wear whatever I was comfortable in.

I then asked if I was expected to wear more provocative clothing. I had noticed some of the other staff wearing more revealing outfits in the club.

I was surprised to learn that we get to choose our own attire and that many of the customers actually liked my secretary look, especially the pencil skirt.

So, knowing that’s safe, I buy a few—all different colors and all form-fitting. I also stick to the plain white short-sleeved shirt because that’s what I’m comfortable in, and I’ll be ordering them from Atticus himself.

But when it comes to paying with Asher’s credit card, things don’t go so smoothly. Ella was insistent, declaring that her dad wanted to foot the bill.

I reluctantly agreed, worried that our arguing might draw attention and reveal my ingratitude. Then we hit the cosmetics store.

I had no intention of buying anything; I didn’t need anything. Maybe just some waterproof mascara, but Ella had a fit over my brand preference, lecturing me about animal testing and urging me to indulge in something more eco-friendly and personally satisfying.

We exited the store with a variety of products in my matching shades, having been perfectly color matched.

Once again, I felt like a gold digger, but I lacked the energy to argue. I must confess, though, the makeup fits my complexion flawlessly, exactly as it should.

I’ve been home for just under an hour, getting ready for my evening shift. Inspired by Ella’s earlier words, I tossed out every piece of makeup I brought with me from Sanctum.

Each item landed in the trash before I perched on the counter to apply my evening look. Maybe it was for the best. They were like relics of the past, remnants of Sanctum, no matter how insignificant.

Now, I look entirely like myself; the makeup isn’t a mask, but an enhancement. I feel…exposed.

“Wow, beautiful.” Asher’s voice startles me, causing me to drop the eyeliner on the counter.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you. How was your day?” he inquires gently as he approaches me.

“Okay, your sister has an insane amount of energy for shopping.”

“I heard she gave you the lecture,” he laughs.

“Lecture?” I question, alarmed, glancing at him in the large mirror and noticing him in the all-black uniform that Callum’s employees often wear.

It’s incredibly attractive to see him in tactical gear that fits him perfectly, as if it were tailored just for him. That shared smirk he has with his brother and father also does things to me…

“The eco-friendly one, about choosing brands that source ingredients from…well, I don’t know where. I never listen long enough to find out. But they look good on you. I prefer this,” he tells me, stroking my cheek as he turns my face toward him.

My gaze shifts from his reflection in the mirror to the real him. He kisses me, pressing against both cheeks before claiming my lips.

I’m instantly aroused, desire coursing through me, causing me to moan softly into his mouth.

He chuckles, which is an odd response, but I dismiss it as I clear my lap and turn to draw him closer.

I’m practically naked already, only in my new underwear that he admires as he caresses my breast.

“I need to send you shopping more often; this, I like,” he murmurs, tugging at my bra.

I think he does this unconsciously, letting his desire guide him as he lifts me from the counter, carrying me to the bedroom, where he deposits me on the bed.

Some might dislike that, the way he discarded me beneath him, but I find it incredibly sexy.

I suppose his lack of asking for sex makes me eager, too, because I’m turned on, aroused for him, and he’s barely said a word or made it feel like an obligation.

Maybe it’s the dominant working man persona he’s projecting in that outfit, but I’m into it.

He pulls his shirt over his head. He undoes his belt, button, and zipper but leaves his boots and tactical pants on.

My thong slides down my legs. Then he crawls between my thighs as he teases my most intimate area with his tongue.

For the next half an hour or so, time blurs in a haze of sexual desire as he pleasures me until I’m trembling with an orgasm, my fists clutching the bed sheets, only for him to flip me over and take me from behind.

His grip on my hips is intense, and he thrusts so hard it hurts, but I like that…

This is exactly what I’ve been yearning for from him.

We climax together, our pleasure resonating between us.