The sheet was soft, and the air was infused with the delicate scent of some kind of flower. He pressed his lips against my neck, his kisses feather-light yet electrifying. Each touch ignited a yearning deep within me. "More, please," I whispered, my voice betraying the intensity of my desire. I felt a flush of shame at my own words, but his touch was irresistible, each kiss a slice of heaven.
His eyes were captivating, his lips the kind I longed to feel against mine for what felt like an eternity. As his hands glided over my body, starting from the top of my bathrobe and pulling it down, I clung to him, overwhelmed by his tender touch.
"Aah!" I moaned, a sound of pleasure escaping me despite my embarrassment. I saw him smirk at my reaction, his hands continuing their exploration. As he lifted the hem of my robe, his large hands finally grasped my chest, kneading it with a firm yet gentle touch. The sensation was both thrilling and overwhelming, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.
I knew it was shameless to think like this, but I was hopelessly in love with him. His hands continued to move lower, tracing along my back before descending to my hips and then to my thighs. Each touch sent waves of pleasure through me, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, yearning for more.
My throat felt parched, and my mind buzzed with anticipation. Was this really happening? Was I about to make love to him?
His kisses travelled from my chest down to my stomach, stopping just above the sacred line. The buzzing in my head grew louder, merging with the intense pleasure.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
The relentless buzzing of my phone shattered the romantic haze. I had been trying to ignore it for the past fifteen minutes, burying the device under a pillow, but the persistent caller refused to relent. As I lay there, deeply immersed in my dream, it felt like the universe was determined to interrupt this moment.
"Agh!" I groaned in frustration, grabbing the phone with a growl. My eyes were barely open wanting to preserve the dream as much as possible. , and I squinted at the blurry number on the screen. Unknown caller. "Hm? Who is it?" I hissed, swiping the screen and pressing the phone to my ear, hoping I could drift back to sleep mid-conversation and complete t.
"Hello?" I said groggily. "Who is this?"
"Miss Cruz?" The voice on the other end had a questioning tone.
"Yeah," I replied briefly, my voice heavy with sleep. I hoped I could simply fall back into slumber.
"Wonderful. I need to talk with you. When can we meet?" the voice asked, as though it was a matter of urgency.
"Meet? Why would I meet you? Who are you?" I muttered, my annoyance growing.
"I am Ambrose Marshal, and I need to discuss something important with you."
The mention of the name Ambrose made me pause. Ambrose Marshal… i had heard that name before and suddenly it struck me.My eyes shot open, and I glanced at the number again, my sleep-fogged mind struggling to connect the dots. Ambrose? The same Ambrose that was Fleur's brother? No way. This had to be some kind of scam or prank.
I couldn't believe someone like him would actually call me. I laughed inwardly at the absurdity of it all. "Yeah, sure, and I'm Tom Cruise's wife," I mumbled, dismissing the call. "Quit spamming people when they are sleeping," I ended the call, hoping it would be the last I heard from this delusional caller.
Across the city, Ambrose sat in his plush leather office chair, his expression fierce as he stared at the screen of his phone. The call had ended abruptly, and his eyes darkened with a simmering rage. "She dares?" he growled, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.
"Is everything okay?" His assistant, standing at the edge of the table, sensed the chilling shift in Ambrose's demeanor.
"Are you sure this is the right number?" Ambrose demanded, his tone dripping with frustration.
"Yes," the assistant replied, though the unease in his voice was evident. "Should I try reaching out to her instead?"
"Tell her to meet me tomorrow night. I will not take no for an answer," Ambrose hissed, his irritation palpable.
"Yes, I'll handle it." The assistant nodded and quickly exited the room, eager to avoid further confrontation.
"Maeve Cruz—you better have a good reason for making Fleur feel like this and even more so for hanging up on me," Ambrose's voice sizzled with anger.
The phone call had ruined my sleep and had left me hungry metaphorically and literally. I hadn't eaten anything since morning, so I got up, changed my clothes, and freshened up with a quick makeover. After grabbing my bag, I headed toward the main door. My shoelaces were still untied, so I crouched down to fix them.
**Buzz—Buzz**
A frown crept back onto my face as I noticed the unknown caller's number flashing on my phone. My patience for dealing with problematic people was wearing thin. I quickly blocked the number and set the phone aside before finishing with my shoes. Once they were securely tied, I stood up, resolved to head out and get something to eat.
Upon grabbing a taxi, I headed downtown to the area renowned for its generous portions of food. As a big foodie, I had set my sights on indulging in a hearty meal. The drive took about twenty minutes, and with each passing moment, the gnawing sensation in my empty stomach grew more intense. My mouth watered just thinking about a warm bowl of ramen followed by a mango and coconut dessert.
I had already researched the best places to find these delicacies while in the taxi and knew exactly where I was headed. In less than ten minutes, I arrived outside a neat, bustling restaurant that was nearly full of customers, a testament to its reputation. I quickly took a seat, and the waiter arrived shortly after.
"Hi, welcome to our restaurant. What may I get started for you today?" the bright-looking waitress asked.
"I'll have the beef ramen with grape juice for now," I said, my stomach already rumbling in anticipation.
"And for dessert?"
"Yeah, I want your special mango and coconut dessert."
"Sure, please wait about ten minutes and your order will be right here," she said with a smile and left.
Excited for the food, I glanced at the empty seat across from me, briefly wondering why it was vacant. Then I remembered why. I picked up my phone from the table, knowing that even this call might not go through. I hesitated but decided to call Fleur's mother, Mary, despite my reservations.
"What if she asks why Fleur isn't answering? Or what if Fleur has already mentioned something?" I thought, feeling a chill run down my spine at the potential consequences for my reputation. Nevertheless, I took a chance and dialed Mary's number.
To my relief, the call connected, and after a few rings, Mary answered.
"Hello, dear," she said with unexpected warmth and enthusiasm.
"Hi, Aunt Mary," I responded, feeling a twinge of guilt.
"Would you look at that! You called after such a long time. I thought you had forgotten all about us," Mary's voice carried a note of slight dejection.
"No, it's not like that. I've just been really busy," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. The tenderness in Mary's voice made me wonder if Fleur had kept her feelings to herself.
"It's okay, I understand. But it's been a long time. I even asked Fleur to bring you along, but she said you were busy."
"Yeah, about that—" I began, trying to navigate the conversation carefully. "Aunty, is Fleur okay?"
Mary paused for a moment before responding. "Haven't you spoken to her?"
"Actually, we had a disagreement, and she blocked me everywhere. I'm finding it hard to reach out to her. If you could just ask her to talk to me, I'd really appreciate it." I was tense, my hands clenched and teeth grinding, the frustration palpable.
"Oh, I see. So that's why she's being so difficult. I thought it was something serious," Mary chuckled.
"Huh?" I was puzzled.
"That's such a childish thing for her to do over a minor quarrel," Mary said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. "Don't worry. Why don't you come over to our place for dinner? I'm sure she won't have anywhere to run then."
The thought of facing Fleur in person was daunting, especially with her father and brother around, but I didn't have many options.
"But, Auntie, I don't want to intrude on your family time like that."
"Oh, don't worry. My husband and son won't be at the dinner tomorrow, so it will just be us girls."
"Really?!" I felt a wave of relief wash over me. "Okay, then. Tomorrow night, I'll be there for dinner."
"Great! I'll be looking forward to it!" Mary said, her tone cheerful and welcoming.
I ended the call feeling a mix of anxiety and relief. I had a chance to talk things over with Fleur, and at least it would be a more private setting with just Mary and me.