"Amara?"
I turn towards the voice, "It's you!" She yells.
"Fiona?" I frown at the cheery lady who moves towards me.
"Right!" She grins, pulling my big frame into a hug, "I thought I was wrong."
I stiffen at her touch, but eventually relax. I'm definitely don't like hugs, so, I make some distance between us and pat her back, absent-mindedly.
"You know, you're too cheery, for your own good?" I grin, once she releases me.
She blushes profusely, her cheeks, ears and even her nose going bright red at my remark. I wouldn't deny but she was cute in her petite figure. At least that was what I thought, compared to my 175 cm.
"Oh." She peeks, her eyes bulging out, and the blush intensifying, "Hello, Mr. Thompson!"
I go in panic mode when I realize Vincent was still here, and if Fiona had seen our position. But what makes me even more bothered that Fiona thinks she was fired and Vincent thinks she handed her resignation.
Totally uncalled for.
"Come!" I hiss in Fiona's ear and drag her away from Vincent, to get a little space.
"What th-" Her eyes bulge out, "Oops. Sorry! But what are-"
"Kayden set you up," I whisper quickly, my eyes fixed on the spot where Vincent is tapping his foot impatiently, "and Vincent thinks you resigned. Kayden wrote a resignation letter, which tells that you were shifting."
"That bastard!" She hissed, her face becoming a bright red.
"Amara?" Vincent tapped on my shoulder, "Done talking?"
I nodded and tried to smile genuinely, but I think my face twisted badly, because Vincent stared at me, like I was an alien from outer space. He chose to ignore it, giving me a brief quizzical glare and turned towards Fiona.
"Ms. Clarke." He nodded towards Fiona's direction.
"Mr. Thompson." She smiled politely, "It's nice to meet you again."
He cocked his head, "So, how's your shifting going? Got a new job?"
She sighed, but quickly smiled at Vincent, "Yes, yes! It's good."
Her gaze turned towards me and before she could ask the obvious question, I put up a hand at her direction and grimaced.
"I didn't get a position for you." I smiled, shaking my head, "I mean, the London Branch probably had a few positions left, but seeing your resume, you wouldn't really have a place."
I blinked and confusion took place when she smiled at me.
"It's okay," She grins, "My boyfriend suggested that we should start a business, together."
"Woah." I sigh internally, mostly in relief, "That's a great suggestion. But what business?"
She rubs her nape, a blush settling on her face. Vincent stands beside me, with his hand on my waist and smirks in amusement. I chuckle myself, seeing how Fiona can blush with so much clarity.
She gives us a weird smile and holds up her finger, "Wait a second, please."
As soon as she leaves us, Vincent bends his large frame and kisses the side of my neck, making me shiver in pleasure. His hands rub circles on my waist, painfully slow. His breath fans my side and my own breath quickens.
"Not now." I whisper, giving him access, "Later."
"Later, Love." In one swift motion, he detaches himself.
The audacity of him! I mean, I told him 'later' but he went away so quickly, as if he wasn't affected. Although one quick glance at his groin tells me a different story.
"Amara!" Fiona yells, her body coming in view, from one of the corners.
I briefly glare at Vincent, telling him to retract his hand from my waist, and then quickly turn. As soon as my hand shots up to signal her, they freeze there.
My hand slowly comes down, and on instinct, I move away from Vincent.
My eyes meet those hazel eyes that I once loved. They are still wonderful and even more brighter than ever. It hurts a little to think that I'm not the reason for those eyes, but it hurts way more when the memories come back.
The memory of the most bad incident and the victim.
Cameron's eyes dull for a moment, his eyes flicking momentarily between me and Vincent. He scowls but quickly plasters a fake smile when Fiona looks at him. Within a split second, his eyes turn into adoration and love, pointed towards Fiona.
"This is my boyfriend." She shifts closer to Cam, "Cameron Sawyer."
I already know, but instead of conveying that exact thing, I muster a blank look.
Vincent's burning gaze pierces through me, and I shiver as if it's flaming me. I know I need to explain to him, but the fact that Cam is here and in how deep shit I'm going to be, makes me ignore him - for now.
"Cameron Sawyer." He nods, his lips in a tight smile.
I don't let my emotions show and do the exact same thing like him.
"Amara Ronaldi." I nod, a similar tight lipped smile.
He raises a eyebrow at my attitude, but I don't fucking care. After all, it's been five years, since that uneventful incident.
"Let me get my bag from the front, then we can talk." Fiona chirps happily, clearly oblivious to the tension.
However, Vincent gets a hint of that. But instead of giving us space, he comes forward, his palm on my waist and looks at Cam.
"My name is Vincent Thompson." He gives a fake smile, "Nice to meet you."
Cameron quirks his right brow and chuckles darkly, "Ah, the famous Vincent Thompson! but Bro, what are you doing with her?!"
The spite in his voice doesn't surprise me. It was expected but it didn't mean it hurt any less. But what was surprising most was Vincent's choice of words.
"She's my girlfriend." He says, confidently.
I would've melted or danced in joy, at how confident he sounded. But I know that we were fake, nothing else. Moreover, if Cam decides to utter any shit, his confidence, as well as my image will be shattered in front of Vincent.
"Don't you know anything about her?" Cam scowls.
I freeze, but Vincent's palm circling around my waist, reassures me.
"I know enough about her." He smirks.
You don't. You don't know anything about me. At this rate, I just want to tell Cameron to go fuck himself. By face becomes red, not by nervousness or embarrassment, but because of how angry I am.
I know, it's not my right to be angry, but can't there be second chances? It's been five fucking years.
"Everything?" Cam frowns, an evil glint in his eyes.
"I bet you are talking about her past." Vincent states, "But everyone deserves second chances. Amara has changed and she isn't a stalker -wait, she cared for her lover deeply but not anymore. Excuse me, Mr. Fuckboy if you want to ruin her present life, at least don't bring up the past."
A tensed silence falls over us, like a blanket.
Cameron's expression is of pure bewilderment, the evil glint in his eyes replaced by fury. His eyes dart between both of us. But that's all I see, because someone more interesting has taken the spotlight and my attention.
First thought? He is the epitome of hotness.
His smirk is still intact on his face. I would've rolled my eyes if I wasn't in this situation, but I am and I don't. He pulls me closer to him, smirking at me briefly and I give him a chuckle.
But then a frown settles on my face.
How does he know? That was the final thought.
I didn't tell him, that I was sure of. But that complicates the matter, even more. Perhaps, he was also a stalker like me? Duh. That would make complete sense.
"Cam?" Fiona chirps, calling him by the same nickname.
I make a blank face. I don't hate Fiona, neither do I care as to what she's calling Cameron by, but her cheery, happy, sunny attitude is too much for me to handle.
"So what are you doing here, Fiona?" I ask, pointedly ignoring Cameron.
"We've decided to go for the Decoration business." She smiles at Cam, who grins. I ignore everything.
"What are you doing in a fabric store, then?" Vincent cocks his head.
"It's just a present." She smiles, "What about you, Amara and Mr. Thompson?"
"If it's Amara for Ms. Ronaldi then it can be Vincent for me." He points out, "After all, I'm not your employer now."
She grimaces, but hides it with a smile, her head bobbing as she nods.
"Idiota." I glare at Vincent, then turn towards Fiona, smiling, "We needed some fabrics because of the upcoming Runaway."
Except Cameron, everyone chuckles as Vincent playfully shoves me. Well, I'm enjoying the expression on Cameron's face more than I thought. Maybe, it'll help to ease away those nightmares.
"Ok then!" Fiona claps, "See both of you soon!"
I smile and Vincent nods. But Cameron whispers something in Fiona's ear, pecking her lightly and Fiona saunters off. We watch her, until she's out of sight. Then Cameron turns and gives me a hard evil smirk, briefly giving the same to Vincent.
"Listen here, Mr. and Mrs. Psycho." He snickers at his lame names, "I warn you of the restraining order. I believe, you bitch remember it and don't even come near, like today."
"Today was a coincidence, you fool." I yawn.
"We're married, Amara!" Vincent grins.
I laugh, as we both walk towards the exit, leaving a gaping Cameron standing there. As soon as we come outside, we laugh like idiots, grinning like fools towards each other. I don't remember the last time I've laughed this hard with anyone else, except Leo and Ella.
I'm still laughing - a knee-bending laugh - when two strong arms pull me straight.
Of course they were Vincent's, but that's what not surprised me. My eyes directly stared into his and for a moment I thought the whole world muted. It may probably sound cliché but the silver specks in his grey eyes, are shimmering and glowing.
"You're laughing." He states.
I shrug, "That isn't surprising."
He nods, smiling, "It is. To me."
I clutch my muffler and jacket tightly, as the sounds come back and the wind picks up.
Turning my head sideways, I noticed the sky turning dark, and the hustle-bustle of the passersby' had grown significantly. Looking down at my watch, I notice almost one hour has passed.
"How did you know?" I blurt out, not looking at him.
A sigh. A pause, then some shuffling, "Can we talk?"
I ignore how warm he feels as his breath fans on my neck, "Okay."
'Can we talk?' This question means a whole lot of trouble, than necessary. For a first, it could end up as messy. Or with kiss. Or even better sex. Or, let's say, worse, stalking.
Either way, it screams trouble.
Nonetheless, I agree and repeat, "Okay."
He turns briefly, "I guess you'll take your bike?"
I nod, my mind somewhere else. He gets into his car, but doesn't start. I sling my legs onto the bike, put on my helmet and look once at him.
His windows ae rolled down and a smirk is on his face. A smirk of my own tugs at my lips, when his eyes rake my body - from my legs, settling too long on my ass and slowly move upwards to my face. It suddenly feels warm in this chill and I wish I could yank my muffler off.
His windows are still down, when he starts his car and moves on. I follow him, but the way I'm riding, I overtake him pretty quickly. Soon, we are in front of Thompson Media.
"Here!" Vincent calls as he drives around the building.
I follow him which I guess is the building's Parking Lot.
My bike has to take quite a few turns up all the way to the opposite side of the entrance, because it maybe for the superiors. I huff, and hop down from the bike.
"Your ass' pretty firm." Vincent smirks, leaning on his car's hood.
I keep my helmet safely, and stretch my body. Muttering a "I know" in his direction, I turn towards him. Then I stretch my body further.
"It is exhausting." I snap my fingers, stretching my arms and standing on my toes.
"I should relax." I turn around and bend down, giving him a view of my ass.
I ignore his groan and grunt. Then I walk slowly towards him, like a gazelle and click my tongue.
"But we need to talk." I remove my muffler.
One look at his eyes and I can tell, he's under my feet, hypothetically. I didn't meant to put him there, but the act of seduction, I just put, I believe there'll be at least a few strains at his jeans. It was because teasing him is fun and I needed some answers.
"Let's go." I snap my fingers, walking ahead.
He growls, but followed me silently. I walked like a Queen Bitch as if I owned the place and all the while I was well aware of his gaze that was burning a hole in my panties. I swung my hips, my boots clacking on the floor as we took the elevators.
I hope he's affected by me because hell, I am.
My panties are soaking wet, probably all my juices freely dripping at the moment, but since the Parking Lot doesn't have chilly air, I'm not so sure. Although, I can't ignore how my folds are clenching and a quick penetration wouldn't hurt. Then, I grudgingly remind myself.
We need to fucking talk, like responsible adults.
But of course, he had other plans.
"This elevator is so-"
I huff, "Stop. We'll first talk."
Fifty Shades of Grey in elevator could have been replayed and believe me, my insides were churning at the close proximity but being the sensible one, I am, I didn't do anything.
After all, we were still in the office - doesn't matter if it's the private one - with all other employees busy on their Thursday. Moreover, I needed answers so desperately that I grudgingly ignore the fact about my sex drive.
Sexual tension and nervousness covered the air, all through our way to the penthouse.
As soon as he typed the passcode and we entered, I threw away my muffler and jacket on the couch. I kept my boots at a his shoe rack, but kept my ankle socks. Well, I'm not untidy, it's just, Vincent's home was homey.
"Sit." His voice sounded grave.
It was selfish for me to expect his playful side, when I actually wanted some answers. So, I steeled myself just like him and watched as he sat beside me, on the sofa.
We watched the bright glimmers of the London skyscrapers, silently and he decided to break it.
"This was the purpose, after all." He sighed, ruffling his already messy hair, "The purpose of our date was to know more."
I nodded, "Go on."
"I've been watching you for a long time." He admits.