Chapter 6
Zein's Pov
"What are you doing?" She asked,
"Reminding myself what obsession feels like." I smiled, stood up and walked closer to her.
"This is your office, Mr Sanchez." She uttered, her voice shaky.
"You're right, it's my office and I can do what I want."
She sat still, her eyes locked on mine. I trailed my finger round her neck, to the back of her shoulders. Her soft skin and nice scent caught me deep.
I lifted her from the chair and placed her gently on the table. "If you still think you can run from me after this, Joann. You're wrong." I warned, then my lips collided with hers.
Fast, sweet, and the most pleasurable moment I've had. I kissed her so deeply, her lips melting in mine. I found her waist, my other arm on her face, drawing her closer.
Then I took my hands down to her zip, releasing her trousers.
"Pull them down, J." I ordered.
She didn't think twice, and the trousers were half off her body, I could see her V, looking so radiant in the back transparent panty she had on.
Then I slid my finger dip inside of her, without warning. She moaned. Her hands locked onto my hair.
I leaned in and kissed her again. "Answer me. Do you want me to stop?"
"No." She answered, breathless.
I pulled her buttoned shirt, one after the other and found her round nipples. They were just as soft as the other night. I pressed down on one, my other hand still feeling her tightness.
After a few minutes, she was dumbfounded. She sat still, her eyes still locked on mine like I hadn't just eaten her up in my office.
I told her to stand. Told her to get some rest. She'd done enough for the day, more than enough, honestly. But watching her flustered, flinching slightly when I brushed her hair, pretending like she wasn't affected, was more satisfying than I'd admit aloud.
I leaned back in my chair as she grabbed her bag, avoiding eye contact. Speechless. That made me smile. I had her right where I wanted her. It'd be hard for her to not want me now.
"Be ready by 2pm, Joann." I added as she reached the door. "I'll pick you up."
She hesitated, but nodded slightly before leaving the office like she couldn't get out fast enough. I didn't miss the blush that crept up her neck.
I pressed the intercom. "Miran, have the driver take Miss Fisher home. And make sure she's comfortable."
"Yes, sir," came his voice, cool and professional.
★
When Miran returned about thirty minutes later, I straightened up. "How was her place?"
"Small," he said bluntly. "Very modest. She lives alone and I think it's barely furnished."
I waved my hand. "That won't matter for long. She won't be there much longer."
"What about Steven?" I asked next, shifting gears.
Miran handed me an envelope. I opened it and my eyes scanned the photographs. Steven at some rooftop bar, drinking. A girl was on his lap and it was nothing new.
But what made my jaw clench was the transaction receipt attached behind the photos, $50 million wired to some woman. I flipped to the last photo Miran had included. The girl.
"Is this the girl he sent the money to?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Yes. Her name's Tasha Fisher."
Tasha.
My mind snapped to Joann. Her surname's Fisher too. Could she be Joann's sister?
Her voice, broken that night, "He slept with my sister."
A chill washed over me.
"Wait," I said. "Could Tasha be?"
"Yes, sir. The girl sir Steven is with, is Miss Fisher's sister."
"Keep tracking them," I said tightly. "Don't let them out of your sight."
"Yes, sir."
I grabbed my keys, my heart pulsing with a new sense of irritation and a resolve to know everything. If he really was Joann's ex… and had the audacity to come into my office, smile in my face, ask me for help, he had no idea what the hell he was getting into.
★
At 1:59 PM, I pulled up in front of Joann's building.
She came out right on time. Still looked rattled, but stunning as always. She climbed in, stealing a glance at me before fixing her eyes on the road ahead.
"You look good," I said, not hiding the grin that tugged at my mouth.
She didn't smile. Just whispered a soft "thanks."
We were ten minutes into the ride when I finally asked.
"Joann… who was your ex-boyfriend?"
She turned her head slowly. Eyes narrowed. Suspicion clear.
"What?".
She turned to me sharply. "Mr. Sanchez," she snapped, her voice cold and clipped, "I would appreciate it if you didn't intrude on my privacy."
Mr. Sanchez?
I scoffed. "Mr. Sanchez?" I glanced at her, then chuckled under my breath. "You're being formal with me now?"
"You're my boss, aren't you?" she said, not hiding the bitterness in her voice. "That's the right way to address you."
I slowed the car slightly, then leaned back into my seat. "You weren't calling me that when I had your legs wrapped around—"
"Stop," she snapped again, eyes flashing as she glared at me.
I smirked. "Fine," I said, holding up a hand.
We pulled up at the mall, and I parked directly in front of the entrance. Before she could ask why, the staff came out and opened the doors for us.
She blinked. "What is this?"
"Pick anything you want," I said, stepping out and adjusting my cufflinks. "Everything in this place is at your disposal."
She hesitated, but I nudged her inside. "Go on," I said. "I'm not going to have you wearing old stuff.."
She gave me a skeptical look. "And what exactly am I?"
My lips curved. 'Mine.'
But I said instead, "The personal assistant to the CEO and design manager of one of the most powerful companies in the country. You'll be in front of cameras, press, and a 70 billion contract is in your hands. Dress like it."
Her lips twitched, like she wanted to argue but instead, she walked toward the first row of dresses.
If Steven couldn't treat her right, I would. And I'd make damn sure she knew what she was worth.
I turned slightly when I realized she had stopped walking. She stood still in front of a rack of white gowns.
Wedding dresses.
She stared long and hard at one of them, her fingers lightly brushing the lace sleeve. Her lips parted slightly.
I walked up beside her.
"A wedding dress, uh?" I asked quietly.
