For the Win

by Brenna Aubrey

  The only explanation that made sense was that Jordan and Falco were one and the same. And all this time...he'd let me believe...

  Things were clicking into place now. The real reason he hadn't fired me wasn't out of the goodness of his heart; it was to keep an eye on me, to ensure I wouldn't put two and two together and expose him. And, oh God--that comment I'd made about it being the best sex of my life--he'd really seemed to enjoy that. I'd been stroking his ginormous ego every time the subject came up.

  Oh. Holy. Shit. That horrible fucker!

  My breath caught. Actually...not so horrible fucker.

  A pretty amazing fucker, if I remembered right. My eyes squeezed shut and now I considered myself a complete idiot for not having figured it out sooner. The way he'd touched me, both on his couch and the night at the bar. How incredible it had felt. And it hadn't been the first time!

  And he knew. He'd known it all along...

  But what to do now? My first inclination was to go running home and bury myself under pillows and cry. Forget I'd ever worked at a place called Draco or ever met a dickhead named Jordan Fawkes.

  I was very tempted by the thought of leaving him there in his underwear, twiddling his thumbs and wondering where I'd vanished to.

  I grabbed the shirt, the suit and the first tie I could reach off the rack--an ugly dark pink one with bright, multi-colored polka dots. It still had the price tag on it and I assumed it was a gag gift. Well, it served him right. Let him go chat up his investment banker wearing a Skittles tie.

  My mind raced as I went through the motions of locking up.

  Should I confront him?

  I wanted to. I really wanted to. But that streak of cowardice rose up again. I'd have to think about this...maybe find a time or way to get him back.

  I shoved the clothes into the hatchback of my car, abusing them soundly. I gripped the steering wheel all the way back and seethed, wondering how long it would take me to muster up the courage to do it.

  Or would I chicken out again?

  No. I'd do it later today after his meeting. At the Starbucks, I dumped a cup of ice into his fucking coffee. And if he dared say anything about it... Or if he waved that recommendation in my face... I'd--I'd...well, I wasn't sure what I'd do, but I'd make sure it was good.

  I arrived at the office with his clothes inside a garment bag draped over my shoulder and his coffee cup in my other hand. I pushed inside the door without bothering to knock.

  Jordan was sitting at the desk in his stained undershirt. He stood when I came in.

  I was so furious I couldn't even look at him. Instead, I laid the garment bag across his desk and set down the coffee.

  Before I could make my getaway, he unzipped the bag and said, "Took you long enough. At least you got things right this time. That's my favorite suit."

  "Oh really? This is your favorite suit?" And I lost it. The rage was too much. I couldn't take another moment. I felt like a volcano at the moment right before it erupted. Mt. Vesuvius had nothing on me.

  I grabbed his shitty cup of coffee, popped off the lid and drenched the goddamn suit with it. Guess I wasn't waiting until later after all.

  He jumped back in shock. I tossed the coffee cup on the floor and stormed to the doorway.

  But he was too fast for me. I got it open a half inch before he pushed it shut again, holding it closed over my head. I yanked on the knob, but it didn't budge.

  "What do you think you are doing?" he ground out between clenched teeth.

  "Going home. I quit."

  "Take a deep breath and calm down, Weiss. You aren't going home."

  "If you'd get your giant manpaws off this door, I'd be gone already."

  "Manpaws?"

  He leaned against the door, blocking me, and I backed away, avoiding looking into his face. He folded his arms across his chest. I had to force myself to ignore the way his stained undershirt tightened over his muscular build.

  He took a deep breath and let it out. "So that's it? You're just going to flounce out of here and not speak up for yourself?"

  I folded my arms, mirroring his action, and squared my shoulders, saying between clenched teeth, "Open the fucking door, Jordan."

  "No."

  I hissed. "I want to leave."

  "You're not going to leave. Don't just run away. Say something. Don't leave me in the dark."

  My arms dropped, fists tightening at my sides. I'd never before had the desire to commit murder like I did at this moment.

  "I'm the one who's been in the dark." I jerked my chin at him. "You've known exactly what's going on."

  He blinked. Our eyes locked, and I could tell the moment he figured out what I was referring to because there was a spark of fear there that I'd never seen before.

  In spite of that, he tilted his head at a cocky angle, giving a half shrug. "Well then, spit it out."

  "Fuck you, Jordan!" I ground out between my teeth. "Or should I say, Falco?"

  He didn't move. Didn't say a word. I bit my lip and experienced a moment of self-doubt. Maybe I was mistaken? Maybe he really wasn't Falco. The thought brought a simultaneous rush of relief and regret that I didn't want to question.

  "What do you have to say for yourself?" I said stupidly.

  "I don't have to say anything."

  My face heated again and I charged, grabbing at the doorknob in spite of the fact that he was firmly planted against the door like a big, hulking oak tree.

  "Let. Me. Out!"

  He wouldn't budge so I got violent, pounding a fist against his huge chest. He hardly flinched. Didn't even blink. That infuriated me more, so I took another swing at him.

  It was like hitting a brick wall.

  Soon, I was treating him like a punching bag and he appeared to not even feel it. Damn it! With frustration, I let out a growl and continued pummeling him with my fists. He raised a brow, mildly amused. "Honestly, it's like being attacked by a gnat."

  Punch. "You suck!" Punch. "I hate you." Punch. "You're disgusting." Punch.

  Then he laughed. "That's not what you were saying that night at Comic-Con."

  "You..." My knee zeroed in on his crotch. I snagged him in the upper thigh instead. I hated being so short.

  His eyes widened, alarmed. That had gotten his attention.

  "Whoa, there. Calm down."

  Ohhh, I wanted to kick the crap out of him! I was not a violent person, but this... My knee jerked up again, this time striking much closer to the mark.

  He pushed off the door, true anger crossing his features. I stepped back, suddenly intimidated and realizing that he was a lot bigger than me.

  "Knock it off, Weiss."

  "I'd rather knock you off. If I could figure out a way to hide the body, I'd be plotting your death this very minute."

  He raised his brows. With him distracted and away from the door, I lunged for it. Before I could even get close, his arm snaked out, catching me around the waist. He pulled me back against him and I elbowed him in the stomach.

  Which did nothing at all because it was like elbowing the aforementioned brick wall. Suddenly, he pushed forward and I found myself pressed against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked a private, pretty little courtyard. Jordan had me pinned against the window, my back to his front. I could barely manage a wriggle.

  His hot breath singed the back of my neck.

  "I'm going to scream," I said, knowing full well there was little else I could do at this point.

  "Really? And when people come running, are you going to explain what you're so pissed about?"

  I had nothing to say to that, so I kept quiet.

  After a few minutes, he slowly loosened his grip on me. "Take a minute and calm down, please, so we can talk about this."

  "I have nothing to talk about with you. Bastard."

  "It's rat bastard, actually."

  "Do I look like I'm in the mood for joking around? I'm not. So get your big, giant gorilla body off of me."

  "That--"
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  "If you say that's not what I said that night at Comic-Con, then you'd better kiss your balls goodbye."

  His body shook against mine. He was laughing.

  "It's not fucking funny, Jordan."

  He kept laughing. "If you say so."

  I clenched my fists and my jaw and waited. Slowly, he let up, but he didn't back away. I turned around and faced him--

  And wished I hadn't. His face was only inches from mine, and my heart was reacting accordingly. His smell, his gorgeous eyes, the feel of his body... Apparently, my body was nothing short of happy to be this close to the best sex of my life again.

  But my brain was still beyond pissed off at him.

  "Are you ready to talk about this yet?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure if I will ever be ready. And you've got your goddamn meeting in thirty minutes. I plan on torching your office while you're gone."

  "Mmm. That might make things difficult for you to get your recommendation."

  I stiffened. "If you hold that over my head one more time, I'll--"

  "What will you do, April? Record me having sex with you and upload it to the Internet?"

  My mouth twisted in frustration. Okay, he had a point. I was still the one responsible for the cosplay porn being broadcast to anyone with Internet. But a goddamn decent person would have let me know he was the other person weeks ago.

  But I was learning that Jordan Fawkes was not a decent person.

  He was, however, still inches from my face. With each breath I exhaled, he inhaled, and the cloud of air between us grew steaming hot in seconds, our chests rising and falling. The tension between us thickened.

  I was in trouble. So much trouble. Because I'd vowed I'd never, ever be the girl who slept with her boss.

  And I'd had every intention of holding to that. Until the moment when I found out I'd already slept with him--one thrilling night of not-so-anonymous sex. Now the rug had been yanked out from underneath me and I was in danger of forgetting that very important vow.

  Chapter 16

  Jordan

  I watched as the color drained from her face, her eyes shifting. My gaze dropped to her hands. They knotted and unknotted before repeating the pattern again. She was a study in anxiety and fear.

  If I were a better person, I might have done something to help alleviate that. But I'd be the first to admit that I wasn't a better person. And, hot night of sex or not, sweet-smelling, soft skin and irresistible curves or not, she still had done me a terrible wrong.

  "It was an accident. I told you."

  My jaw tightened. "What part of it was an accident? Uploading it for the whole world to see, or pressing record on your video app and pointing the camera at us when I had no idea?"

  She gulped, eyes widening. "I--I'm sorry."

  I straightened, pulling away from her heady scent. I'd had about enough of smelling her and knowing how soft her skin was and not being able to touch it. For the past few days, I'd made a valiant effort to avoid her presence at work and keep her out of my mind.

  At this moment, my body wasn't fully on board with that plan.

  "But you shouldn't have been torturing me for the past month, either, holding this shit over my head."

  "Really? You're going to go there? Should I be happily skipping for joy that your little oops has threatened something I've been working for years?"

  She paled, her eyes squeezing shut. Instead of answering, she shook her head.

  I tensed, waited for her to talk. When she finally did, I wished she hadn't. "This isn't worth it, Jordan. You should just let me go."

  I should. I really should.

  But I didn't want to.

  I rubbed at the back of my neck. "What on earth possessed you to do it?"

  "Record it or upload it?"

  "Both."

  She looked away, flattening herself against the window. There were people milling around the courtyard right outside, but they couldn't see us thanks to the one-way privacy glass. Her eyes returned to me.

  "I was caught up in the moment and my judgment was impaired," she said in a shaky voice with wide eyes pleading for me to believe her.

  The same bullshit answer she'd given me before. I wondered if she also blamed her impaired judgment for sleeping with me.

  But I didn't give a shit if she regretted it. It had been a damn hot fuck for both of us--a damn hot fuck that could have stayed safely in the past had she kept her phone in her pocket where it belonged.

  As if she sensed my irritation, she reached a hand toward me before letting it fall. "I'm not going to go into the ancient, fucked-up history of why I'm a giant bag of insecurities, but if you must know, I thought it would prove something to myself." She looked away again, blinking, and I felt it in my chest when I saw how sad she was. "That didn't end up happening. The uploading was a complete accident."

  I softened my tone. "How does a video go viral without you realizing it?"

  "I must have fucked it up somehow. I'm not some kind of techie genius like everyone else here. But please believe me when I say that no one will ever know it's you. I'll walk out of here today, and no one will even know why I've quit. This can all be wrapped up neatly."

  I snorted. "There's no 'neatly' about it, at this point. And you know what? I'm not going to let you walk out of here and take the easy way out. You need to be here and face this every single goddamn day, just like I have to."

  She let out a breath of air like I'd punched her in the stomach. "That's not what I was trying to do. I feel bad--"

  "Then feel bad. You should. But do it here while you get your job done."

  We watched each other and the tension thickened between us. I finally took a step back, forcing some distance between us.

  "Who else knows it's you in the video besides the blonde?" I asked.

  Her gaze fell. "My roommate knows because it was her elf costume. But no one has any idea who you were. No one knew it was you in the Falco costume. I didn't either, until just now..."

  A stupid fucking mistake on my part. I swallowed, half wondering if subconsciously I'd sent her for the clothes so she would find the costume. Somewhere deep down, I guessed I still had a conscience, though I managed to keep it gagged and bound most of the time.

  I flicked my wrist to glance at my watch. I had to be out the door in ten minutes or I'd be late for the lunch appointment. My eyes shifted to the desk, now covered by my suit and pools of coffee.

  "We have to continue this later. I have to go."

  Every muscle in her body visibly relaxed. I could feel the relief coming off of her in waves. "I'm going to see if the ticket can be transferred to Charles. I'm sure he'll jump at the chance."

  "What?" I snapped as I grabbed the tie I'd been wearing this morning--fortunately, it was dark brown so I wouldn't have to wear that pink monstrosity.

  "We have twenty-four hours before the flight. I think that's enough time to change everything." She sounded less sure of herself than before.

  "I already told you that you are not quitting."

  She stepped forward, surveying the damage from her caffeinated assault with a grimace. "I won't quit. I'm just talking about the trip to Vancouver. I think I can sweet-talk Charles into going in my place."

  First of all, the thought of her "sweet-talking" that little twerp into anything made my blood boil, and second of all, what made her think she was off the hook for Vancouver? I wanted her where I could keep an eye on her. That had been the plan all along and nothing had changed in that regard. I was still aware that her conscience might get the best of her, and at any given moment she could be in the CEO's office, ready to confess all her sins and beg for penitence.

  My eyes trailed after her as she disappeared into the bathroom while I grabbed my stained dress shirt. It was still damp, but I'd managed to rinse out most of the mess. But what to do about the suit... Fuck! I had a spare sport coat hanging in my closet. It wasn't normal banker attire but better than nothing. If I'd only remembered it in the f
irst place, we wouldn't be in this mess. April would still be happily ignorant, which would have been better for both of us.

  She returned from the bathroom and started sponging up the excess coffee with white hand towels.

  "You're still going to Vancouver," I declared as I looped the tie around my neck and collar.

  Her eyes shot to mine and then danced away nervously. "Umm. Under the circumstances--"

  "No. There are no circumstances. The only thing that has changed is that you have information you didn't previously have. Nothing else has changed. You're still going."

  She froze, watching as I knotted my tie quickly without looking in the mirror. Something about that action appeared to fascinate her--hadn't she ever seen a man put on a tie before? Then her blue eyes slid down my body with obvious admiration. I averted mine and tried to think about something else. I knew what was going through her head. She was thinking about that night we were together at Comic-Con.

  Well, that made two of us because I was finding it pretty damn difficult to forget that night, too. I grabbed my wallet and sunglasses. "I'm out for the rest of the day, Weiss. After this lunch meeting, I'm going to have to go hide my face in shame for being seen in public like this. Be packed and ready to go tomorrow."

  She rolled her eyes and I turned to leave.

  "Wait. You have a loose string," she said, moving behind me. I paused without turning toward her, then I felt her brush the top of my back. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and even through the coat, the pressure of her touch was turning me on.

  I turned back to her, eyebrows raised.

  "I'll go to Vancouver," she finally said after clearing her throat. "But that doesn't mean I have to be nice to you."

  "Then, by all means, don't. Now get your work done," I muttered before pulling the door open and leaving.

  ***

  The next day, we boarded our early afternoon flight from Orange County to Vancouver. April had refused to speak to me at the office and during the short ride to the airport. When I'd asked her questions, she answered in monosyllables and refused to look at me, still visibly pissed.

  Oh well, I shrugged. She'd have to deal, wouldn't she? Like I'd had to deal those first few days after discovering that my night of hot cosplay sex was on the Internet for all to see.

  Since then--pain-in-the-ass work issues aside--I've come to think of it in a more philosophical light. At least the poor lonely geeks that could never get any were able to obtain some sort of education on how things worked. Whether or not any of them could ever get with a girl as hot as April was another question altogether.