Selena
"You don't know how much I yearn for you, Rashida." His voice was confident and calm, but something about it felt dangerous.
I knew I wanted him so desperately, he pushed me down with a speed I can't explain and he tore my dress with so much passion and desire. He traced his palm over my skin and I was burning with desire. I groaned gently as his fingertips caressed my most sensitive part and I was caught between refusing him and asking him for more.
"Tell me you want me Rashida," he said softly into my ears and I could hear myself giving him an inviting moan "I want you," I murmured breathlessly he kissed my neck as he carefully unfastened the clasp on my bra and flung it away. He then took one of my breasts in his palm and proceeded to knead it lightly, his other hand sliding lower down my body. he then removed the remainder of my clothes, and his. I could see the muscles ripple over his chest and his firmness. I wanted him desperately and I knew he wanted me too.
He bent down and took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking on it, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through my body. I arched my back, pressing my breast into his lips, wanting more. He moved to my other breast, his hands continuing to explore my body. He softly inserted a finger inside of me, and I could feel myself growing wet.
"You can't escape me, Rashida." his voice a low murmur that sent shivers through me.
He started stroking his fingers in and out, slowly at first, but gradually ramping up speed.
The pressure was rising inside me, and I knew I was close to climax. He proceeded to lick and play with my breasts, his fingers going in and out, quicker and faster. And suddenly I woke with a gasp, my chest heaving as though I'd been running for miles. The dream always ended like this, leaving me hungry for explanations and terrified in its aftermath. I glanced at the ceiling, forcing my heart to slow down, but the recollection of his touch stayed, so real it was frustrating.
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. 8:10 AM. My stomach sank.
"Damn it!, not today," I mumbled, tossing the blanket off and racing out of bed.
Today wasn't just any day. It was my big break—or at least, it could be. I had an interview at Vanguard Enterprises, the firm everyone dreamed of working for. If I landed this position, it would mean stability, a chance to finally establish myself, and—most importantly—an escape from the routine that had defined my existence for far too long.
"Selena, are you awake?" my mom's voice wafted through the door, preceded by a quiet knock.
"Yeah, Mom! Just getting ready," I called back, slipping into my favorite navy blazer and matching pencil skirt. They weren't new, but they fit well enough to give me a pretense of confidence.
Mom popped her head in, her eyes lighting up when she spotted me. "You look beautiful, sweetheart."
"Thanks," I said, trying to smooth the stubborn flyaways in my hair.
She stepped inside, her face softening. "You're going to do great, you know. You've worked so hard for this."
I smiled, appreciating her faith in me, even if I didn't fully share it. "I hope so. It's just… big. This job could change everything for us."
She put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "No matter what happens, you've already made me so proud."
Her words warmed me, but as the minutes ticked by, worry began to creep in again. I grabbed my bag and rushed toward the door, screaming a quick goodbye.
By the time I arrived at Vanguard Enterprises, I was slightly out of breath, but the sight of the tall glass building stole the air from my lungs for an entirely different reason. The building was imposing, sleek, and impossibly modern, just like the company itself.
I checked in at the reception desk, clutching my portfolio like a lifeline as the lift whisked me up to the executive floor.
The ride up the elevator felt endless, the numbers above the doors lit up with agonizing slowness. My heart was pounding, but I couldn't tell if it was because of my nerves about the interview or the lingering remnants of the dream that still stuck to me like smoke.
When the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, I stepped out into a spotless lobby. The floor was polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the glow of modern light sources above. The Vanguard Enterprises logo was emblazoned on the wall in sleek, silver letters, a testament to the company's status and image.
A tall, impeccably dressed receptionist met me with a polite but distant smile. "Good morning. Are you here for the 9:30 interview?"
"Yes," I answered, clutching my bag tightly.
"Please have a seat in the waiting area," she said, pointing to a cluster of plush armchairs near a floor-to-ceiling window. The view overlooked the busy city below, a reminder of just how high up I was—in every sense of the phrase.
I settled into one of the chairs, trying to calm my breathing. Around me, other candidates sat stiffly, their own nerves obvious in their tense postures and restless fidgeting. I glanced at the sleek clock on the wall. 9:20 AM. Ten more minutes.
As I waited, my mind went back to the dream, unbidden. His face was still vivid in my mind, his eyes dark and intense as they held mine. The feeling of his touch, his voice—it all felt too real, too tangible to dismiss as mere fiction. But how could it be anything else? And why does he keep calling me Rashida?
"Miss Selena Grey?"
The sound of my name startled me back to the present. A woman with sharp features and no-nonsense air stood at the edge of the waiting area, carrying a clipboard. She looked like she belonged in the pages of a high-fashion magazine, her cut black suit fitting her like a glove.
"Yes, that's me," I answered, rising up immediately.
"Follow me. You're next," she remarked curtly, turning on her heel without waiting for an answer.
I grabbed my purse and ran after her, my heels clicking against the glossy floor. She led me down a long, glass-lined corridor, the sound of our footfall reverberating in the solitude. My gut twisted into tighter knots with every step.
Finally, we stopped in front of a set of towering double doors.
"The CEO will see you now," the woman replied, pushing one of the doors open and motioning for me to enter.
I stepped inside, and the scene before me made me freeze.
The office was vast, with floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the space in natural light. The design was basic yet luxurious—dark wood, sleek furnishings, and a large desk that dominated the space.
But it wasn't the workplace that left me breathless.
It was him.
Sitting behind the desk, his fingers steepled as he read a document, was the man from my nightmares.
The same sharp jawline, the same piercing eyes, the same compelling presence that had tormented my sleep for years.
He looked up, and for a second, the world appeared to stop. Our eyes locked, and a strange, incomprehensible thrill surged through me. It was him—there was no doubt about it.
"Miss Grey, I presume?" he replied, his voice calm but forceful.
"Yes," I responded, but my throat felt like it had closed up.
"Have a seat," he urged, referring to the chair across from his desk. His tone was professional, and distant, as though this were just another interview.
I obliged, attempting to compose myself as I sat down. Up close, he was even more striking—his features sculpted and faultless, his presence nearly overwhelming. But there was something else about him, something I couldn't quite place. He appeared... familiar, but not simply because of the dreams. It was deeper than that, like an echo of a memory I couldn't really fathom.
He watched me for a minute, his eyes piercing and analytical. "Let's get straight to the point," he remarked, sitting opposite from me. His eyes were unreadable, and his demeanor betrayed nothing—not even a spark of recognition.
Had he seen me before? Did he know me somehow?
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fastened on me with an intensity that made my palms sweat. "Let's start with something simple," he added. "Tell me a little about yourself."
I cleared my throat, my mind racing. "I'm Selena Emerson Grey. I recently finished with a degree in business administration, and I've performed internships where I managed administrative work and scheduling. I'm highly organized, and I thrive in fast-paced workplaces. I believe my talents make me an excellent candidate for this position."
He lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Do you even know the position you're applying for, Miss Grey?"
"Yes," I answered swiftly. "I'm applying to be your personal assistant."
"My executive assistant," he clarified, his tone harsh. "Do you understand what that entails?"
"Yes, sir," I answered, while my confidence trembled under his gaze.
His lips pushed into a narrow line as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "This isn't just some desk job, Miss Grey. You won't be filing paperwork or making coffee runs. The position you're looking for is the most crucial role in our building." His voice was deep, forceful, and held a weight that made me sit up straighter. "The person in this role has direct access to me, and I don't let just anyone work that closely. Do you think you're up to the challenge?"
"Yes," I responded, my voice stronger than I felt. "I understand the responsibility, and I assure you, I'm prepared to handle it."
He tilted his head, examining me. "Prepared?" He scoffed casually. "You've just graduated and only have internship experience. What makes you think you're qualified to assist me at this level?"
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to maintain eye contact. "I may not have years of experience, but I'm a fast learner. I adapt quickly to new situations, and I'm dedicated to achieving my best. If you give me a chance, I'll work harder than anyone else to satisfy your expectations."
His countenance remained impassive, but his keen gaze seemed to examine every word I said. "This role requires more than hard work," he remarked. "You'll need to anticipate my needs, think several steps ahead, and ensure everything runs smoothly—without mistakes. My time is valuable, Miss Grey, and I don't accept incompetence. Do you believe you can fulfill those standards?"
"Yes, sir," I answered confidently, refusing to falter. "I take my work seriously, and I'll adjust quickly to whatever is expected of me. I won't let you down."
For a moment, he didn't say anything. The silence stretched between us, thick and oppressive. Then he picked up my resume, his eyes skimming the page one last time.
"If you're hired," he continued finally, placing the paper down, "you'll start immediately. You'll need to establish that you're as capable as you claim to be. If not…" He drifted off, his message apparent. "You'll hear from us soon. If you don't, I advise you look elsewhere."
"Thank you, sir," I murmured, standing as he rose from his chair. I extended my hand, hoping for some semblance of closure, but he disregarded it, already turning back to his desk.
As I exited the office, my heart was beating. His harsh manner stayed like a shadow over me. But even then, I couldn't shake the way my pulse had sped when I saw him. There was something about him, something familiar—about the way he held himself, the way his presence filled the room—left me both scared and oddly pulled to him.
***
Later that afternoon, I met Emily at our favorite café for lunch.
"So? How'd it go?" she asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity as she sipped her latte.
I sighed, swirling my iced coffee. "I don't know. The interview was… heated. The CEO is nothing like what I expected."
"How so?"
"For one, he's gorgeous," I acknowledged, feeling my cheeks burn. "Like, distractingly gorgeous. But he's also frigid and kind of terrifying. And—" I hesitated, unsure how to put the rest into words.
"And?" Emily pressed.
I leaned closer, dropping my voice. "He looks exactly like the man I keep seeing in my dreams."
Her eyes expanded. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"
I nodded, feeling a shudder run down my spine. "It's uncanny. And the craziest part is, I can't figure out if he's ever seen me before. He didn't behave like it, but… I don't know. It feels like there's something there."
Emily leaned back, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe it's fate."
"Fate?" I chuckled, though the word stuck in my thoughts.
"Yeah. Maybe he's your soulmate or something. If he is, he'll hire you. And if not, well, screw him."
I was going to reply when my phone buzzed on the table. My heart soared as I saw the caller ID.
"It's them," I muttered, my hands quivering slightly as I answered.
"Hello?"
"Miss Grey? This is Vanguard Enterprises. We're glad to notify you that you've been selected for the role. You'll start tomorrow at 8 AM."
My breath caught. "Thank you! Thank you very much!"
After completing the conversation, I looked at Emily, a huge grin spreading across my face. "I got it!"
She squealed, rushing across the table to hug me. "See? I told you it was meant to be!"
But while I sat there, soaking in the exhilaration of my new work, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered a warning. Was this the beginnings of something amazing—or the beginning of something lot more complicated?
I wasn't sure, but one thing was certain: my life was about to change forever.