Hi everyone.
This is my first submission. I hope you enjoy it! I welcome all feedback.
The following is a complete work of fiction. The following story contains erotic situations between consenting adults. If it is illegal for you to read this please leave now. Any resemblance between the characters and any real life person is completely coincidental. Please do not copy or distribute the story without the author's permission.
Big ups to my editor Angel. Thanks for all the help (((hugs))). I must admit I added a sentence or two after I received the edited copy back.
Cheyenne
"I don't understand this. Why the hell won't they leave me alone?" I heard Jordan muttering to himself as I got up from my chair to see what was going on. When I reached the open door, my feet just wouldn't move any further. In his current state of dress (or undress rather), Jordan was almost completely naked except for the dark charcoal trousers. No shirt, tie or jacket to complete the suit and no shoes and socks. "He must have just gotten out of the shower attached to his office," I thought.
"Great. It's going to be one of those days again. He pulled an all nighter and my goose is going to be cooked because I'm still going to be here at 9p.m. tonight because I lied on my application and can't really type seventy words a minute. But, God dammit he was so good looking. Six feet two inches of pure muscle. I swear, God created this man to play havoc on my hormones. With his sun bleached blonde hair that belonged on a surfer not a successful business owner, blue-green eyes that don't belong on any man except if he's Brad Pitt and a killer smile that begged you to rip off your clothes and shout, take me, take me now, please!" I wonder if he looked up, if he would be able to see my thoughts on my face.
"Chey!" Jordan bellowed.
He never called my name or used the intercom, but bellowed it (or rather half of it) to let me know that he needed me and in so doing let the whole top floor of Time Towers know that he needed me as well.
"Right here Boss! And its Cheyenne." I never could figure out just why I hated it when people abbreviated my name.
"Can you answer a damn phone?" he yelled at me.
"Yes, I believe it's why you hired me, too answer phones, make you coffee and do typing and such. You said yourself, just yesterday I might add, that I was the best secretary that you've have since old Mrs. McDonald passed on." I was trying brilliantly hard to hide my smile because I knew he wouldn't appreciate it. Not right this minute, anyway.
"Very funny "Cheyenne", you're supposed to keep things like this from reaching my ears."
"What's that Boss?" I asked with a little worry in my voice.
"These God damned vultures that want me to be on the cover of their magazines. This woman actually had the nerve to tell me I was the most eligible bachelor of the decade. Can you believe all this nonsense?" He ranted.
"Umm, but Jordan, the office phone didn't ring so . . . "
"Ahh, shit. Phone the mobile company and get me a new number. How the hell do they find these things out?" I could see he was at the end of his tether.
"Umm, Jordan. You know you could solve this problem once and for all. We've spoken about it before. It would solve so many things and the journalists would leave you alone after a while." I spoke softly, clearly hearing his last time response in my head. "Are you fucking crazy?"
Jordan pulled me back from my memories with a brilliant smile.
"You're right, Cheyenne. I know the perfect person." His face suddenly lit up.
"You do? You've actually been considering my suggestion? Well hell, glad I could be of help. Who is she?" I was in awe of myself that I was able to persuade him.
"Could you phone and make the arrangements. It will be completely up to you of course what type of ceremony it will be, I don't have any qualms. The only thing I want is for it to be short but elegant." He smiled at me as he said it and I began to feel a little weird.
"But who is she? Wouldn't she want to plan it?" I asked slowly watching his face.
He brought out all the stops with his smile as he sat back in his black leather chair. Quite sexy wearing no shirt and all and then he dropped the bombshell.
"She is planning it. You suggested it so I assumed you would be the perfect candidate. Pick a date, Cheyenne. Preferably within the next two weeks. You and I are getting married."
"Are you fucking crazy?" It was my turn to ask the loaded question.
"No." He only smiled at me like he just asked me to go pick up his dry-cleaning.
"What makes you think I'll say yes?" I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping against hopes that he'd give me an answer I could build an argument on.
"I don't." His smile suddenly cleared and he looked at me with an emotion I've never seen before.
"Look, Cheyenne. I know this is farther out in left field than the two of us can imagine, but you and I get along. I'd rather have someone I get along with as my wife, than a woman, I know only wants me for my money." Jordan looked at me with such a sad expression, it's like the son of a bitch knew I was involved with him.
I felt myself starting to melt under his stare.
"You're the only woman that's never made a pass at me."
"Well, dress me in drag and call me a queen. I guess it helps not to throw yourself at men. Who'd have thought?" I need to let Holly know about this new development I thought.
"Ok." I heard someone whisper. To my horror I heard my own treacherous voice say the word.
"Really?" There was that smile again. "Ahh, crap." I thought, it's like he knows how to play me.
"Yeah, sure. It's not like I've got anything to do in the next couple of weeks. Planning a wedding would be great." "Holy fuck." I heard the words in my head. Was this really me spouting this shit?
"Ok, I guess we're getting married then." Jordan got up from his desk, holding out his hand. Something inside me was screaming. "He's gonna shake my hand? Fuck!" My head just wouldn't shut up.