Tacky Bitches

Chapter Ten: Tacky Bitches.

Grant POV

“Surprise?” 

The word left her lips in a squeak, almost playful, but it scraped across my nerves.

This bitch had to be the dumbest clown I’d ever given the privilege of sucking my dick. And I must have been even dumber to hand her a spare key to my office.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” 

She added, forcing a pout. Her painted lips trembled, her head tilted like some lost kitten.

I gave her a flat stare, my jaw tight. 

“Get out.”

Her eyes widened. 

“Don’t you miss me? Grant—”

“Get Out!” 

My voice cracked like a whip across the room.

“Fine.” 

She crossed her arms, shoulders hunching as if she was the victim here. She looked so pitiful it pissed me off. That’s the problem with women who don’t know their lane—you indulge them once, and suddenly they think they matter. 

This is what happens when you don’t have a stable partner: you end up fucking strays who you should never have taken a second look at.

She blinked rapidly, then asked.

“Did I do anything wrong?”

Dumb question. Very dumb.

My silence didn’t stop her. She shuffled forward, her heels clicking nervously against the floor, and kept talking.

“It’s been weeks since you had me over. I just wanted to surprise you.” 

Her voice squeaked again, higher this time, desperate.

I let out a humorless chuckle. 

See what I’m saying? Why would a whore think herself worthy of being missed? Why would a slut believe she’s a surprise to someone of my caliber?

Meanwhile, Nova shifted awkwardly between my legs, trying to tuck herself in tighter, her breath hot against my thigh. 

She was doing her best not to reveal herself. Which shouldn’t have been necessary. This bitch wasn’t my wife. Nova—or any other girl—shouldn’t have to hide just because some pest decided to invade my privacy. In my workspace, of all places.

“See, I’m sorry. I can come over to your place tonight,” the intruder pressed, her voice dripping with false innocence.

“Drop my keys,” I said coldly. 

“And get out.”

The command was calm, almost lazy, but laced with enough steel to freeze her. I picked up the telephone on my desk, pressing one button.

The door opened almost immediately, and Ivin stepped in, tall and stone-faced as always.

“Take her out of here,” 

I ordered without looking at her again. 

“And warn security never to let her in again.”

“Yes, sir,” 

Ivin replied briskly. His hand clamped on her arm, not gently, and he dragged her out. She spluttered half-hearted protests, but Ivin didn’t even flinch. He dropped my keys onto the desk on his way out.

Silence swallowed the room.

The mood was ruined. My cock hung limp against my pants, and Nova’s breasts were already covered by that ugly sweater she used as a shield, hiding every inch of beauty from me.

I zipped up slowly, watching her body language. She was tense, shoulders stiff, eyes darting toward the door like a cornered rabbit.

“You can get up,” I murmured.

I hadn’t even finished before she stood, hastily smoothing her clothes and reaching for the handle.

“No. Don’t.”

Her hand froze midair. She turned, blinking nervously. 

“Why not?”

“You can’t be seen leaving my office,” 

I said evenly. I pointed toward the far side of the room. 

“Use the second door.”

She hesitated, chewing her lip.

“We’ll continue this at home,” I added.

Her blush betrayed her. The pink spreading across her cheeks was answer enough.

“Leave your door open tonight,” 

I teased, letting the corner of my mouth twitch.

The spring in her step was obvious as she obeyed. I nearly smiled—nearly. I don’t do smiles.

And she should be happy. I was willing to give her another round of pleasure when, as a god, I could easily bestow my dick on countless other desperate mouths. Out of my mercy, I chose her. I’d have a spring in my step too, if I were her.

Now, time to bring order to today’s chaos.

“Now,” I growled into the phone.

Just one word, and Smith stumbled into my office. My so-called personal assistant and HR manager looked like a schoolboy dragged into the headmaster’s office.

“You called, sir,” he stammered, adjusting his tie.

“Full report for the past week,” I snapped.

“I’ve been sending daily mails to your inbox, sir,” he replied with fake confidence.

I fixed him with a look sharp enough to skin him alive. He faltered, then launched into generic reports, useless noise that didn’t answer what I needed.

“I don’t think I made myself clear.” 

My voice dropped lower, deadlier.

“What the fuck was that with the intern this morning?”

Recognition flickered in his eyes. Son of a bitch.

He stammered about lazy interns, excuses tripping over themselves, but I wasn’t fooled. I hadn’t built my empire by missing small tells. I know liars. And I don’t have the patience to play this game.

“Do I need to torture it out of you?” My tone was silk wrapped around barbed wire.

He choked, going pale instantly. Good.

Finally, he cracked.

“S-Sandy saw her leave your compound twice this week, sir. She insisted I keep her on a tight leash.”

Strange.

“Who the fuck is Sandy?” I demanded.

“Uh… Sandy. Your secretary, sir.”

What the fuck?

“And what exactly is Sandy doing around my house?”

“She… she didn’t say.”

Too many fools around me.

I hit the phone again. 

“Now.”

Less than a minute later, Sandy stumbled into my office. She was wrapped in bright colors, blouse too tight, skirt too short. She looked like a tacky clown, a caricature pretending at class.

“Sir?” she chirped, voice irritatingly sweet.

Why does her “sir” sound like nails on a chalkboard, when my nymph’s soft whisper of the same word coils like velvet in my ear?

“What’s going on?” I asked flatly.

Her eyes flicked to Smith, and they tried that pathetic silent communication. As if I couldn’t see through it.

“She’s a gold digger,” 

Sandy said finally, squaring her shoulders. 

“We were only looking out for you.”

I blinked once. Slowly.

I don’t think anything shocks me anymore. But I hadn’t expected that.

“Excuse me?