Justin could feel his desire stirring once again. Damn, this was the second time this morning. He mentally berated himself and gently lowered her to the floor.
He needed space, needed to distance himself from her. This woman was toying with his mind.
Reluctantly releasing her when she found her footing, he swiftly retreated to the control panel, desperate to divert his thoughts away from his mysterious goddess, the avocado, and this lady with her supposed viral affliction. He needed to address the immediate issue at hand.
Justin pressed the activation button, but the elevator remained unresponsive. He called for emergency assistance, but there was no response.
He muttered something along the lines of, "I'll fire them all when I get out," and then turned his attention back to the lady.
With her oversized black sunglasses obscuring her eyes, it was difficult to gauge her emotions, but her body language—fingers twisting nervously—betrayed her anxiety.
"It's alright, ma'am," he reassured her. "The elevator will start working again soon."
All she did was nod and divert her gaze to the rose painting on the wall.
Shaking his head at the enigmatic lady, he attempted to call Kyle, who should have been at work by now. Frustration bubbled up as voicemail answered his call.
Then, the elevator jolted once more, and before he knew it, the lady was back in his arms, clutching his neck like a lifeline.
He couldn't escape the overwhelming sensations that washed over him as he once again inhaled her intoxicating scent. But his mysterious goddess was...
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she certainly wasn't a black-haired woman with a penchant for masks and sunglasses just because of a cold.
At that very moment, their eyes locked again, and just as Justin was about to rip the glasses off her face to satisfy his curiosity—was she the avocado or his mysterious lady with a new look, or simply an ill woman— the elevator doors chimed open.
"Oh, thank goodness," Amy exclaimed, her natural voice bursting forth in relief at finally escaping the tight confines.
She dashed out of the elevator, headed for her hotel room, which was on the opposite side of the corridor, moving as swiftly as her petite legs could carry her, leaving Justin blinking in astonishment.
But Justin's reflexes were quick, his strides even quicker. This was no ailing old lady.
Who was she, and why was she hiding behind that mask and sunglasses?
Amy, now aware that she was being pursued, sprinted as fast as her legs would allow, bypassing her own room and taking the exit door to the stairwell, descending the stairs.
But Justin, being Justin and a former university short-distance race champion, caught up to her in no time at all. When he did, he cornered her against the wall, tore off her mask and sunglasses.
"I knew it. Avocado? What are you doing here? Stalking me?" he teased.
"What?" Amy almost burst out laughing. "I don't have a stalking bone in my body, thank you very much," she retorted. "Now, could you please give me some room? You're squishing me into the wall here."
"Ah, I'm so delighted, Avocado," Justin said playfully, his mood suddenly lightening. He couldn't believe how quickly his infatuation with his mysterious goddess had vanished when he saw the avocado again.
"Let go," Amy yelled as Justin refused to release her, gripping her hands as well. "And give me back my mask and glasses."
"No. Why were you wearing these?" Justin asked, suspicion lacing his voice. "Were you planning on stealing something?"
In today's world, thieves came in all shapes and forms, and while Justin knew Amy wasn't the stealing type, he wanted to ruffle her feathers a bit.
"I'm not a thief. I just don't want to see your face, that's all."
"Really? You don't want to see this handsome face?" Justin teased.
"Handsome?" Amy scoffed. "Have you even checked yourself in the mirror today? You look like a sparrow decided to nest in your hair. Did you even brush it this morning?" she retorted.
"It's style, avocado," Justin replied smoothly, running his hand through his short hairstyle with an air of confidence. "It's a new fashion. Old folks like you wouldn't understand."
"Really?" Amy raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Are young people these days really sporting this hairstyle?"
"Yeah. Got a problem with that?"
"No, just asking, since it looks really good on you," Amy replied. "Just add a week's worth of stubble, and you'll have the full caveman look."
"Hah? A barbaric caveman. That's a good one," Justin chuckled. "And you look like a medieval lady who just had a roll in the hay."
He gestured to her crinkled blouse, which he had just noticed. What had she been up to last night to end up in this condition?
"Justin!" Amy had had enough of their playful bickering. Of course, her clothes were wrinkled because of what happened last night with Kyle.
"What? Giving up our verbal sparring match already?" he asked slyly.
Amy was seething beneath her composed exterior, but as the older one, she had to maintain her composure when the younger party refused to back down.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to argue with your elders?" she asked.
"I don't consider you an elder. After all, you're just an avocado," Justin quipped.
"You!" Amy clamped her mouth shut again. She knew that if she continued to converse with Justin, she could guarantee colorful profanity would come pouring out of her lips. There was simply no point in talking to him.
"I'm leaving," she declared.
"Wait! I haven't finished having fun with you yet," Justin said, holding her in place. "I'm not a toy, Justin. Go find someone else to amuse yourself with." She struggled within his grasp.
"I don't want to find someone else. You're amusing enough already. I want to keep having fun with you," Justin confessed, not entirely sure what he meant by that himself.
"Dear heavens, let me ask you something." Amy stopped struggling, took a deep breath, and turned her eyes toward Justin.
"What is it?" Justin asked, surprised.
"Don't you have anything better to do in life?" Amy began her lecture. "Why do you keep annoying me like this? Why don't you use your time to help society or contribute to the community?
You have a job, right? Why do I always see you wandering around aimlessly, as if you have nothing to do? I'm telling you, stop this wayward lifestyle of yours. It doesn't benefit anyone, especially not yourself."
"Amy, stop," Justin didn't appreciate hearing about his wayward, Casanova lifestyle. It stung. He knew he was foolish, knew his behavior was beyond redemption, but how could he stop?
He needed a human connection to help him sleep. Last night was the first time he had slept soundly, after sharing intimate moments with his mysterious goddess.
"No, you need to hear this," Amy continued. "I know we're still strangers, even though it feels like I've known you for a lifetime already, but please, just stop with that—"
"Amy, stop!" Justin interrupted her again.
But Amy paid no heed to his rising irritation and continued her lecture. "I mean, what if you get someone pregnant?"
"Amy, stop talking now!" Justin demanded, his voice rising another octave.
But Amy didn't notice his temper darkening, so she continued lecturing him. "Will you marry her? Will you change your Casanova ways? How will you support her? I'm only telling you this as an older sister would, because you're younger than—"
Justin snapped. To silence her, he crushed his lips forcefully against hers, forcing her to stop talking, forcing her to stop lecturing him. But it was intoxicating—her taste, her scent, the heat of her lips—it was all turning his mind to mush.
He couldn't think, couldn't speak, just continued to kiss her fervently, punishing her with his tongue, invading her territory. This was his mysterious goddess, he thought. He was kissing her again.
"Shit!" Justin pulled back abruptly when reality hit him. This was not his mysterious goddess; it was Amy, the woman who was seven years older than him.
He saw Amy staring up at him, her expression blank, as if she were in a trance. Her lips were swollen from his passionate kiss.
Then he saw her slender fingers caressing her own swollen lips, moving ever so slowly on those lips he had just ravished with his hungry kiss. Justin swallowed hard, longing to kiss those lips again.
"You kissed me," she uttered, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and confusion. "Why on earth did you kiss me?"
Then, as if emerging from a daze, her eyelids fluttered open, and she fixed her gaze on him as if encountering him anew.
The reality of the situation finally dawned on her, and she promptly made her exit.
Justin found himself stammering, struggling to string together a coherent response. His bewilderment was palpable. He couldn't fathom why he had just planted a kiss on the avocado.
The first instance at the restaurant had been an accident, but this time, it was a deliberate act.
Desperately ransacking his mind for a simple explanation, he came up empty-handed, helplessly watching her retreat down the stairs, her hair billowing behind her—much like the first time she had fled from him after delivering those flowers to his townhouse on the eve of Valentine's Day.
For once, the self-proclaimed king of Casanovas was rendered utterly speechless.