CHAPTER SIX

Fayre didn't notice the other woman in the room upon her entry.

All her attention had been honed on the look she'd imagined would be splashed across Jordan's face when he saw her.

It's been months since she last saw him and though they'd broken up on very rough terms this last time, she was sure he wouldn't be able to resist her once he saw her again and gets a taste of what he's been missing.

After all, she wore this figure hugging, revealing dress whose red color screamed 'fuck me' for a purpose.

No man have been able to resist her and her smoking hot body before, he wouldn't be any different, not after she's made special effort to tempt him back.

They've had break ups before, ones almost as messy as the current one, but he always took her back anyways. She shouldn't feel any worry about this time around.

She stood glaring at the vacant space staring back at her, her disappointment marring her perfectly made up face.

"Ughhh" she groaned.

She might as well wait for him here and spin him the pleasant surprise that she was, she thought, smiling at the provocative idea.

A kiss or two wouldn't be so bad and if she plays her card right, she might just get lucky enough to have his impressively huge cock buried deep inside her pussy.

She was getting wet already from thinking of him bending her over his desk and pumping her hard.

He's never consented to sex in his personal space before, like his apartment, any of his houses and even this office, but her plans for today included making him want her so much he'd have her anywhere she chooses and she's choosing this office, his work table precisely.

There's something kinky about having your man's big dick in you, fucking you hard with your tits slapping against cool glass of his work table.

She smiled smugly at her own dirty thoughts as she trailed a nicely manicured finger on the glass surface of his table making her way around it and plonking down on his super comfy swivel chair.

Damn, the luxury.

This is one of the major reasons she won't ever give him up, his infinite wealth, well you can always add the amazing sex.

It was after she was done settling herself in his seat that her searching eyes finally spotted Jojo.

She decided at first sight that she didn't like her.

The woman, though possesses worse fashion sense than anyone she's ever met, she was beautiful.

She'll give her that.

She didn't want any woman around Jordan except herself.

While she's still trying to condone  having that sassy little wench, Lisa, whose desperacy to dig her claws into Jordan reeks, right outside this door, this one won't stay.

She'll fucking make sure of it.

The only woman with a place beside him was herself and she'll make it stay that way.

Jojo was getting uncomfortable from being under Fayre's scrutiny.

She could already tell from her scrunched made up face and the  down drawn lipsticked lips that her presence wasn't appreciated.

"And who are you?" The derogatory tone in which the questions was delivered made her want to ignore it and not grace it with an answer but she figured the lady was Jordan's close acquaintance seeing as she's comfortably seated in his chair like she owns the place.

Maybe she was the girlfriend Lisa had so not subtly mentioned. She didn't dare piss the princess off and risk her job in the process.

"I'm Jocelyn Colleen, Mr McGrath's personal assistant." She offered.

She didn't keep her head up long enough to catch the eye roll directed at her, but she did hear the disapproving tsk that accompanied it.

"I don't like your being in here. Isn't there a space outside here that you should be occupying?"

Jojo's ears perked up at that and her eyes flew up to watch Fayre flip her hair and cross her legs on her boss' table.

She's barely known the woman for less than twenty minutes but she could already tell she was shallow as all hell get out.

And beauty with no depth wasn't a trait she admired.

The woman was damn obnoxious.

"Whatever does Jordan need a personal assistant for anyways?"

She did the hair flip thing again trying to initiate superiority and intimidate Jojo.

Jojo wasn't having any of it.

She would have let that jab go by unattended but the insane level of stress she was enduring and with the anger the threat to her job had conjured coursing through her, she short circuited, bringing back a piece of the old her with it.

"Why don't you ask him that as soon as he walks in that door!" She snapped.

"And if you don't mind, use the damn visitors couch cause I don't think my boss will appreciate having you in his seat."

She half regretted those words almost immediately.

Good job saving that job, Jo.

She watched Fayre's eyes widen in shock at her guts for a second before her face took on a disgusted scowl.

"And who the fucking hell do you think you are talking back at like that and telling me what the fuck to do?"

She could literally see the smoke coming out of Fayre's ears.

"You little, filthy bitch...."

She tuned her voice out, not willing to be reduced to a blubbering mess of verbal exchange.

Too sad all that beauty didn't have a deserving personality to boot.

She focused her attention on the ever growing pile of correspondence on her table that needed returning.

If worse comes to worst and she looses her job over lossing her head with fucking miss 'I own this place cause I'm screwing Jordan McGrath', she wanted a clean slate that would guarantee her paycheck comes in.

Having a valid argument if it came to that wouldn't hurt anything.

She heard the loud clicking of heels against the hard squeaky clean floor and knew Fayre was headed her way.

She didn't bother looking up until a manicured index finger with nail covered in glowing black was tapping away at her table and ruining her peace.

When she finally did draw her attention away from her work, she found Fayre glaring down at her with mischief filled eyes and a threatening smile.

Her voice dripped of venom when she spoke.

"You know, when I first saw you, I didn't have you pegged for an annoying bitch."

Jojo scoffed.

"And I'm supposed to be grateful for that?" She retorted.

Fayre's eyes hardened.

"I like the fire you think you have. That at least, is not boring. I'll love to see how well that works for you after I've got you kicked out of this job and any other reputable one."

She twirled a lock of her blonde hair, slightly leaning in a bit closer.

"I don't know what strings you pulled to get your disgusting, sassy self here in the first place because the likes of you don't work here, but I promise you this, I'll make sure you are out this door and flat on your butt as soon as you can say my name."

Let it go.

Let it fucking go, Jo, her usually sane and rational self cautioned.

You've said enough already, don't let her fucking get to you!

But she was way past listening to the little voice of caution in her head.

The daring minx in her that Fayre had managed to resurrect wanted a bite and she let her have it.

"Make sure my pay check comes in intact while you are at it, will you? And a little advice on the side, you should definitely work on your threat voice. You  sounded like a cat being strangled just now. That doesn't incite much fear, you know."

She knew Fayre would blow her top, saw it coming, and she did.

She smiled as she watched her turn very shade of red before she lashed out.

"You scum! You are nothi......"

The door chose that exact moment to slide open, revealing a furious Jordan McGrath.

His eyes were narrowed down to slits, his whole six feet plus tense, and his green depths were drilling holes in her.

Smoking hell.

She's well and truly screwed.

* * *

Jordan was exhausted from having to deal with a cold feet Malcom all afternoon.

He'd fucking spent the better part of two hours explaining to the man that they still had a valid contract signed and making sure he understood the penalty for breaching.

Then he'd gone on to convince the man to keep his end of the contract with a solid promise and prove that his company wasn't in any financial crisis.

No thanks to the anonymous messages Malcom have been receiving for a while.

He even went the extra mile to take Malcom to the newly finished ultra modern building he'd created on his order for a place to move a branch of his tech company.

The building with its perks was the final push Malcom needed before he totally gave in and even apologized for bailing without finding things out himself.

He offered a re-inspection, fixed for a later date before the deal was officially close.

His effort paid off but not without the accompanying fatigue.

If Malcom wasn't one of his best clients, he wouldn't have come himself for this.

It felt like all his energy have been sucked out and his body was running on fucking reserve.

Taking the rest of the day off for a deserved break was a tempting idea but he had a late appointment with Ian Blackwell.

The man was a very important client and he didn't want to offend him by canceling now and risk loosing him.

At least not with words going around about his supposed financial crisis, no thanks to fucking Morgan Drew.

He also had an unavoidable shitload of paper work piled on his desk that needed immediate attention.

Fuck!

He groaned as Fred guided his car into his office parking lot.

He would have loved to take his private elevator to his office but that won't pan out fine as Kevin his sales director had called with an urgent matter.

If the message hadn't come with a glaring 'need your immediate attention' tag, he would have told Kevin to go fuck himself.

"Fuck!" He groaned.

Again.

He reached for his non existent tie before realizing he wore none.

He wished he did in the moment, that, at the least, would be explanation enough for the tightness he was feeling around his throat.

He popped the second button of his immaculate white inner shirt open as he strode in the front door.

The whole floor went pin drop silent as soon as his presence registered.

Everybody was suddenly too deep in something work related.

As if their pretentious asses can mask their slacks with that shit.

If they all worked as hard as they are pretending to be doing now, he wouldn't have any issues running this company and they'd be earning their pay fair and square.

He scoffed when his exploring eyes found Mandy the receptionist keeping her leaky trap shut and actually doing something productive.

All she fucking do around her is make up and gossip.

No wonder her desk was popular among the ladies as the 'juicy hot-spot'.

He didn't utter a word, his stance said it all and they better take the hint before he pays them another thought.

He heard their collective sigh of relief when he finally moved and got into the elevator.

He stopped in the sales floor and spent almost quarter an hour stuffing poor Kevin with orders and directives.

Done at last, he was on his way up to his office.

The thought of seeing Jojo again made one corner of his lips tug upwards in the making of a smirk.

He wanted to see her, needed to touch her, feel her.

He wanted to cover her soft mouth with his in a driving kiss, bend her over his desk and show her how much he fucking missed her.

She's the first to make him want to christen his personal space with sex.

Not even Fayre had been able to achieve that.

It was either at her place or hotel room.

Never at his place or his office.

He needed a dose of that adorable smile JoJo lets slip when she gets lost in thought and thinks he isn't looking.

His cock stirred in his pants from the mental images of her smiling like that at him while very naked in his arms, her full tits at his mercy.

Fuck.

He was almost at a point of obsessing having a taste of her like he's dreamed to ever since she turned fifteen and started giving him hard to relieve hard ons.

From the moment she'd waltzed back into his life as his personal assistant, all his buried feelings for her, his best friend, had come rushing back, lurking and hoping he'd do something about it and the accompanying painful hard on.

Now that he thought about it, it's been a while since he'd gotten laid.

Between his break up with Fayre and his outrageous desire for his assistant, coupled with the hectic phase he was wading through at work with his multiple projects, there was no room for random rolls in the sack.

He was tired of fucking his way through New York's female population anyways.

The fun in having his dick buried in a woman for a night and never seeing her again after was beginning to wear off and the idea suddenly unappealing.

He only wanted his cock in one woman but he doubted she was ready for it yet or his secret that came with it.

The elevator finally dinged open and he stepped out more tense.

He totally ignored Lisa Monroe and her patronizing, flirty smile and gestures.

Her desperacy to get into his pants was on a high level of repulsive.

A woman, ready to bend to his every whim and order without a little chase doesn't hold any appeal for him.

Impatient to get into his cocooning office he quickly scanned his palmprint and waited for the door to open and grant him entry access.

His eyes hardened as it did because right in his office and standing in front Jojo's desk, spitting venom was the last person he needed to see.

Fucking Fayre Carson.