Point of view: Emara Stone
The very next day.
The seventh-floor conference room is massive, like two-three basketball courts. Rather than a small session, it looks like a press conference. Reporters and media people hurriedly run around along with their cameras and mics.
I sit at the last row beside the gate as I don't want to catch anybody's attention.
Just gonna watch the show.
"Is this seat taken?" I look towards the voice's owner. Ah! That receptionist. Her lipstick is out of her lips today as well.
"Please, be my neighbor." I reply graciously. She blushes. This bitch. I mentally roll my eyes as she bates her long fake eyelashes at me.
"You are very sweet, Ethan. By the way, my name is Rita." She says while sliding on her chair.
I didn't even ask her name. All I want to do is take out the handkerchief from my pocket and wipe her lipstick off her face. It is irritating me.
"Rita, I think we will be good friends." I smirk. Yes! Friendzone her.
"Rita, why are you sitting at the last?" Two females come in our line, eyeing between me and Rita.
"Shelly, this is Ethan. Today is his first day and session in our office." Her friends sit beside her while passing their flirtatious smiles at me.
Oh, no... I am already allergic to bitches. Not today Satan. I'll do your rituals every weekend but not today, please.
"Hi Ethan, I am-" Her petite voice sinks below the loud noise coming from the crowd, all reporters rush towards the gate like an orgasm. I try to get up from the chair to see who entered.
In between the reporters and their flashes I see a tall man in a black suit. The scene looks similar to the scene of a gigantic ship crushing minor boats. He walks in straight like an Egyptian god, not giving a flying fuck to anyone.
Reporters chant his name 'Ryan, one pic. Ryan', but he didn't turn. His aura is powerful like a hunter, so deadly and dangerous. He seems to fill the space around him like some dark entity. I didn't notice myself shifting on the chair, the temperature is getting hotter of my seat automatically, boiling my bottom.
Suddenly the chanting stops as he stops walking and turns his face towards me. My lungs stop operating, my eyes get bigger and the mouth opens wide just like a zombie as I see him for the first time.
Beautiful fuck!
His cheekbones, jawline are sharper than the edges of furniture. His eyebrows are thicker than mine both combined. His full lips are better than any model and suddenly I notice myself biting my own lips. He is irresistible. Oh my g- "Oh my god, he is looking at me." Rita and her friends scream. I totally forgot about these girls and about me. I can't stare at him like this. I am a man. I am Ethan now!
He looks like he is six feet tall. If I stand close to him, I might reach till his shoulders. Maybe with heels, I can reach till his ears.
"Did you see? He smiled at me. Yesterday he called me twice to bring coffee for him."
"For the past two days, we go at the same time in the elevator. We had eye contact thrice."
"He also smiled at me when I was passing by."
These bitches can't see, he was looking at me. Or maybe towards the photographers. I can't think straight.
I ignore these girls and focus my attention on the hotty. I see he already reached the stage, completely facing towards the crowd. His shoulders are broad and sharp while his hooded eyes gawk penetratingly at the audience as if they are looking for something. He looks so animalistic like he is in predator mode. Rawrrr.
Damn, that anatomy though!
People take his pictures and upload them on their Snapchat and Instagram stories. I see Rita trying to put the doggie filter on him. Her friends peek at her phone and do 'Awwwww'.
"Good morning people of Damison Group." His authoritative voice roar in the hall. A high intense shudder runs down my spine making me sink more in my seat. His hoarse voice cause goosebumps to flare up on my arms. He seems really powerful, I can't act manly around him.
"He is so hot." "Yes, very hot." Rita and her friends discuss. Yeah, totally! He is fucking hot! I can't agree more with these girls.
• My mind says he is a CEO, intelligent, Greek god, probably has hoes under his sleeves.
• My heart argues that he is beautiful, he should be kept in a museum. Even his hands are prettier than my face!
• My vagina screams, TAKE IT, just take my virginity. Take me right now on stage. For fuck's sake just take it.
I'll probably pay him to see him naked.
He is enchanting. His dark hair is neatly set back, like a mafia underworld king. His lips are perky and moving in perfect sync. His ripped muscular arms hold the podium tightly. I wish those hands were on me, my throat and choki-
"Thank you for your time. You can continue your duties." His words bring me back to reality. What the hell! I was daydreaming during his whole speech?
Hotty closes his suit button as once again he gawks at the crowd. Whole Damison Groups can drown into his narcotizing eyes as his hooded eyes pierce through people's heads. He takes a deep breath in the air, gives a final look to the photographers, and leaves the hall.
And suddenly I regret sitting at last.