A/N : This update was late due to exams but they got cancelled yesterday, so, here I am as fast as possible.
*grins* It's a long chapter, but if you keep on reading there are some intimate scenes and *dances* the sex is in the next chapter. If you think the sex was too soon, let me assure you, I'll also give that explanation in late chapters.
Till then, dear Readers, read, vote, share and follow! Only if you like it.
__________
I stood in front of the familiar building and again, stared at it in awe, just like I did the first time.
The pale light of the afternoon gave it more enchanting vibes. And the sunset which was just settling in was beautiful. After all, it was just six in the evening.
My heels clicked on the tiles, as I took the personal elevator, this time. Thompson Media was engraved in small bold letters on one side of the elevator. This elevator was pretty small compared to the other one. Maybe, because it was a private one.
Just for him, his PA, his family and well, his flings.
Yesterday, after hearing about a Kayden Phillips from Ms. Clarke, the common thought of Jayden and Kayden being siblings came to my mind, which led me to surf.
I had convinced myself that surfing the internet about him was not stalking, but who was I kidding?
Apparently, the tabloids said, Vincent went with his mother's last name when they got divorced. His parents were pretty influential people in London and their divorce was pretty messy and had spread like wildfire. The article I had been reading was dated 14 years ago, and if I was correct it was when Vincent was fifteen.
Their divorce also explained why Jayden and Kayden were siblings yet Jayden looked a little similar to Vincent.
Since everyone in Vincent's extended family was famous, the tabloids said Jayden was married and a mother. Maybe that's why it was a Phillips-Evans. And she was married to a famous chef. Very uncommon for a designer and a chef to be married, but who was I to complain. Everyone in the family belonged to renowned bloodlines.
These all were intriguing as I remembered the information, on my way to Vincent's floor. But my face morphed into a scowl as I remembered the next information.
It wasn't a surprise that Vincent had a two month relationship with most girls, because it was sort of a big news, in most parts of Europe.
But a scowl was settled on my face, when I saw the anonymous beautiful, lavishing girls - mostly blondes - attending every seminar with him. On one photo there was even his PA and most others were of him and Nyla.
What earned my glare to my laptop that most tabloids had shipped Nyla and Vincent.
I rolled my eyes at the thought, once again and reminded myself, once again that he was my fake boyfriend whom I have kissed once and I needed to stay away from him.
The elevator stopped as and the doors opened in front of the receptionist's desk.
But instead of being empty, there sat a very skinny blonde. But she didn't have any fake boobs or makeup caked on her face. But I knew better not to just assume a book by its cover.
Before she could call me, or I could go to her, Vincent - fortunately - strode towards with his blazer coat in his arms.
It was a sight to see. His hair was even messier than usual, as he tugged at his hair, frustrated and tired. From even this distance, I could tell he wanted to loosen his tie and roll up his sleeves but he decided against it.
I frowned at his sudden reluctance.
Then I agreed on his opinion. Almost all the ladies on this floor were drooling just at the sight of him, and god forbid, I knew what they would do if he had actually rolled up his sleeves or loosened its tie.
I wasn't keen or something, that's what I lied to myself.
But let's be real. It would be a big fat lie if I didn't think he was hot, or how hot he would look if he loosened his tie, unbuttoned the few first buttons of his chest to reveal his chest.
Or simply the fact that ignoring every other females - I know they can't resist him, I don't blame them - his grey eyes find mine and turn a darker shade.
"Why hello, Amara." He says, surprised and lot more husky.
"I need to talk to you, "I ignore my stupid dumb heart, "privately."
He nodded and motioned me towards the elevator. The same private elevator through which I just came up.
We both entered the elevator, ignoring the hushed whispers.
I wouldn't say it was a cliché elevator moment, which happened to be in so many books. I had read enough books, to know what would happen next. I always felt it was typical but standing in an elevator with just him, I realized it wasn't cliché after all.
It seemed like I was standing in a desert, my throat parched dry. I was in extreme need of water and just as it happened to be, Vincent was the irresistible water that was only available at the moment.
I would've happily accepted him, if it wasn't for the next words that echoed in my head.
"In a desert, when you feel your body going limp, the only source of water will be very appealing to you. But don't depend on it too much, because it will also dry sometime and leave you."
It was probably a thing my high school teacher had said about love but I couldn't help.
It felt much more easier and better to compare my feelings and those past words.
Suddenly, the ride to the elevator became quite easy. I wasn't a nervous mess longing for water, or exactly, I wasn't even feeling hot.
And Vincent had noticed my mood change.
After a few silent yet comfortable seconds, the door to the elevators opened to reveal only one floor. In fact, it was so big, I would've easily mistaken it for just a corridor but the single door only four feet apart, told a different story.
"A penthouse?" I chuckled, surprised.
He nodded smirking.
While he tapped on his passcode, I looked around the circular four feet corridor. Even it was adorned with flecks of gold and was beautifully, immaculate. It suited him.
He tapped on my shoulder and motioned me to go inside.
I have a penthouse and even a loft in Italy, and not to boast, but I have stayed in so many. Yet, there was something about this particular penthouse that could take anyone's senses away.
His penthouse was very spacious, and looked even more clear because of the large windows. The dark glow of the sunset filled the whole rooms, but it quickly became brighter when Vincent lighted up the room.
I walked down the few steps and was surprised to the large canvas paintings that adorned the walls. Each painting held a story, because I myself like to draw with different shades. Beside the canvases stood two large potted plants and much more surprising, the other wall, just beside her was covered with yellow fairy lights with a bunch of photo frames and carved wooden things.
It was beautiful.
It felt...homey.
The only furniture which covered his front room was a dark greyish long sofa, a small tea table, a large television and very big speakers. It was simple, yet enough.
I looked around the living room, spinning in a slow circle and almost in a trance.
"Do you like it?" Vincent was smiling softly.
I blinked, now breaking from the trance. Instead, the surprise overtook me, since he rarely smiled. And this smile felt that it held so much more. I could be imagining it, thanks to my obsessive skills but it wouldn't hurt to dream about it.
"Yes." I whispered, smiling and matching his tone.
He moved past me and entered another passage what I assume was the kitchen and dining area.
To be honest, I thought that his penthouse would be kinda dead and simple, but expecting this type of warmth in this unknown place, actually rose my hopes up and I was grateful.
Almost like the living room, his kitchen were also covered in dark greyish and blue colors. It seemed he like them too much and it actually suited him, because they matched with his eyes.
"Sit." He ordered.
I sat on the high stool against the kitchen countertop, which was made of black granite.
He moved along the kitchen, swiftly, opening cabinets and clanking utensils. Then only I noticed, his tie was still on his neck and he hadn't rolled up his sleeves.
"I think you should change." I suggested at his lean back.
He poured the Barolo in the wine glasses and passed them to me. I didn't know if he knew but Barolo was my favorite. Though, I don't drink much.
And then he leaned towards me, unexpectedly, if I may add.
"Huh?" I asked, confused.
"Open my tie." He chuckled darkly and seductively.
I narrowed my eyes slightly, but quickly smiled seductively and bit my lips.
Giving a tug on his tie, I inched his face closer that his breath fell upon my lips, and I could smell his delicious cologne.
I could see every detail of his face, as I stared directly in his grey orbs. His face was flawless, except a slight scar, beneath his front hair. He was cleanly shaved and his voluminous lips were enticing.
I kept my eyes on him, and loosened his tie absentmindedly. All I could think was his face, his lips and those beautiful eyes.
"By the way, you look beautiful." He huskily remarked and moved apart.
I blinked and looked down. Right.
That maroon-burgundy solid knitted wrap dress was on my body. As it was one shoulder top, my other shoulder was bare, revealing my tanned skin. And as for the tulips hem, they showed my long legs and the salt white heels matched perfectly. As a thanks to Jade, I had wore the diamond earrings, perfectly matching with a simple floral-crystal diamond choker.
"Today's the wine party." I shrugged at an obvious tone.
He nodded, his eyes first lingering on the choker and then squinting on my hair. Or rather something else.
"My tattoo." I replied, looking elsewhere, because I knew what he was thinking.
My hair was in a high messy bun, with just a barrette holding it. I've heard numerous people that tattoos weren't for females when I got my first one, but today, I probably didn't care. So, it would be a great disappointment if Vincent didn't like them.
He nodded, "That's beautiful."
I looked up at him, first smiled and then shrugged.
Leaning towards the countertop, still in my sitting position, I sipped on my wine and cocked my head.
"Why did you fire Ms. Clarke?" I asked him, after looking at him intensely.
He frowned, "I did?"
I looked at him, not faltering my gaze, "You did."
He looked perplexed, "But she handed her resignation."
My face went blank, then slowly, realization crept in. The realization that Kayden Phillips was a fucking bastard. And then anger came surging that how dare he write a fake resignation.
"You didn't call her to check, did you?" I asked, my voice eerily calm.
He looked at me skeptically, "Um, I thought she would be busy with her shifting."
Oh, so that was the reason. But I was even more curious.
"And what about your new one?" I asked, giving him a glare. And what he did next was unexpected.
He went round the kitchen countertop, stood behind me and leaned down, his lips whispering against my ears.
"You look very hot when you're angry, but," He bit my earlobe, "We chose the new one today and why are you getting so worked up."
I shivered, my head falling back, "No-Nothing."
His lips again breathed, almost kissing on my flesh, "I should get you more angry."
I wanted to say that he should've clarified everything but I couldn't even breath properly. My lungs were grasping for air and his whole existence was a distraction, itself.
He kissed behind my ear, occasionally biting on my earlobe. He traced my neck tattoo and stayed there, as if admiring it. Then he trailed down to my bare shoulder and kissed there, warmth seeping into them.
My back was now arched, the wine half finished and long forgotten.
Between all these kisses, his groans and my moans mixed together. I moaned again as he nuzzled his nose on the crook of my neck, this time.
His hands which was on my covered shoulder, moved to my bare legs. It stayed there for a while, and I groaned wanting him to touch me. But his hands went beneath my thighs and before I could realize what was happening, he had spun me around.
I was now on his broad shoulders.
"Hey!" I groaned, "Are you a caveman?"
He slapped my ass and rubbed it, roughly through the fabric - which somehow was erotic - and said seductively.
"Querido, this is the first time, I've brought someone here." Really? "Others all go to the loft."
"Like fuckbuddies?" I asked, my mind blank. I didn't know if what he just said was supposed to be good or bad. My eyes were already seeing a upside-down view.
He nodded but didn't elaborate.
He strode towards a room, I guess. You couldn't exactly comprehend when your ass is up front and your head is up down. He flicked on the switch and I guess, there came a bed, so, he put me down there.
I expected to be thrown, but again, unlike videos, my back would've broken.
His bedroom was like the rest of the house, adorned with dark grey and here, kinda black-blue. A big canvas painting caught my eye, but I could only register it for a second because a much better view attracted my attention.
He had removed his shirt and just wore his pants.
His shoulders were broad but he was lean. His muscles was the thing anyone would swoon over. His abs were on display and his hair fell more messily, on his forehead, making him much more hot.
Suddenly I felt very hot. I frowned what I missed.
I was still dressed, and he mostly undressed. It was unfair.
As if sensing my inner turmoil, he strode towards me and leaned down. His eyes found mine and he looked intensely into them. I could see his pupils getting darker by each second and the small flecks of silver on his dark grey orbs.
"You look so ravishing hot in this dress," I smiled, taking the compliment, "But this has to be taken of, Precious."
My smiling face quickly changed to a horrified one and I panicked, "There's the wine party. Then how-"
His thumb traced my lips, and whispered, "Shh."
"But-"
"It's just seven." He grinned, "We can go there at nine."
I blinked and mumbled, "That's two hours."
"Damn right." He whispered seductively, "And I can't wait to explore my fantasy."
"Fantasy?" I whispered, sucking on his thumb pad.
He groaned, "You have already killed me two weeks ago."
"Fantasy?" I repeated, sucking on his thumb and my hand moving dangerously towards his dick.
He grunted, then moaned, "My fantasy is you. You've given me so- so many episodes during night."
Shit. What? No way.
I realized I had stopped sucking and was looking at him, intensely.
Suddenly, as if a switch flipped, I became aware of my actions. We were basically talking about sex and attraction here. I was attracted to him, yes, but was I really strong enough to have sex with him and not get attached.
I was scared of the consequences. And even more afraid of my insecurities.
If this had been a business meeting, I wouldn't have given a second glance to all those shitty people ogling me, because I knew I was a piece of artwork. But sex was something, which made me insecure. Although, I decided to take the possible risk.
Before I could change my mind or he could question what was bothering me, I tugged on the waistband of his pants and he fell on me.
He looked at my eyes briefly and as if sensing my sudden confidence, he crashed his lips on mine.
This was definitely much better and more intense than our first kiss. He lay on top of me, but quickly got up and fixed us in such a way that I was straddling his lap. His hands moved to my nape, deepening the kiss and the other caressed my butt. I inched closer, seeking more of his warmth and he roughly bit on my lips, making me gasp. Quickly, his tongue found its way to my mouth and he kissed, roughly.
The kiss wasn't sweet. Actually, it was fueled with passion and fire, igniting every spark on my body.
He unzipped my dress, opened my hair in loose messy hair, but when I attempted to remove my heels, he pinned me down on his bed.
He stared at me for a long time and sighed what I would call, was awe.
"You've tattoos and...piercing." He mumbled.
"You don't like them?" I asked, hesitantly.
He shook his head, "They are beautiful. You are beautiful. It's who you are."
I smiled. My right side, from the top of my breasts to my hipbone, was covered in tribal and floral art. I also had a small tattoo of a phoenix just above my ass. My vagina was pierced, along with my left breast. and a small tattoo covered my side thigh.
They all held meanings, from my parents, my sister and Leo and Ella.
They all depicted misery and loneliness, but he didn't need to know that.
Most of my past boyfriends didn't like them, since most of the tattoos were done at the age of eighteen. But these tattoos were the only thing I didn't want to change.
No matter what everyone else thought.
"You don't share them." He pointed out and i nodded. I knew he was curious but he decided against it and gave a kiss on my collarbone, earning a moan from me.
I attempted to remove my heels again, along with the continuous moans coming out, but he gave the piercing of my left breast, an unexpected lick.
"Heels are sexier." He whispered, his breath falling on my bare breasts.
__________
Words: 3161 (approx.)