HARRO.
As we pulled up to our destination, I couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events. Orion's offer to give me a ride had caught me off guard, and I was both surprised and thrilled that he's finally warming up to me. But what really had me raising an eyebrow was his insistence on accompanying me inside, despite my assurances that he didn't need to.
I had always known Orion to be a curious and inquisitive individual, but It's now clear to me that I had underestimated the depth of his curiosity. As we stepped inside, I gestured for him to help himself to a drink and wait while I attended the unexpected meeting to which he agreed without hesitation to my confusion.
I couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance at the bunch of Italian assholes that had seen fit to arrive a day early, catching my best friend - whom I was representing - off guard. I wanted to use the reminder of the meeting time to have dinner with Orion but I couldn't ignore my friend's frantic messages that had been blowing up my phone, and I could only imagine the chaos that was unfolding behind the scenes.
I was all too familiar with the tactics employed by such individuals, having navigated the cutthroat world of business for years. Their premature arrival was a classic ploy to unsettle their opponent, and I was determined not to fall for it. They chose the wrong person to mess with.
As I glanced around the bar, a sense of nostalgia washed over me. This was my friend's pride and joy, a venture he had poured his heart and soul into since our college days. The bar had become a staple in the community, with patrons flocking to sample my friend's innovative concoctions. His dedication to perfecting his craft was admirable, and I had been privileged to witness his journey firsthand.
This Italian owned company claims that my friend had plagiarized their signature drink was nothing short of laughable. I had lived with my friend for four years in college, and my senses had been subjected to his numerous experiments as he tirelessly worked to refine his recipe. The memory of those late-night sessions, filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and the aroma of various ingredients, was etched in my mind forever and I never forget anything I've tasted, seen or heard. I knew my friend's drink was an original, and I was ready to defend him against these baseless accusations.
I sighed in annoyance as I emerged from the meeting, it took longer than expected but I felt a sense of vindication wash over me. The Italian delegation's claims had been nothing more than a thinly veiled attempt to bully my friend's small business. But I had been prepared, and their lack of concrete evidence had left them flailing. I'm going to sue the fuck out of them once all this is over.
As I scanned the room, my eyes landed on Orion, and my expression darkened. What I saw made my blood boil. Orion, the man I had left sitting quietly at the bar, was now grinning from ear to ear, chatting with a blonde girl who was practically draped across his lap. My vision narrowed, and I saw red.
Without hesitation, I strode over to the pair, my anger propelling me forward. I yanked the girl away from Orion, my glare sending her scurrying for cover. Orion, however, simply looked up at me with a goofy, drunken grin plastered on his face.
My eyes widened in shock as I took in the sight of Orion's inebriated state. How had this happened? I had left him sitting at the bar, sipping on a single drink, and now he was...this. A wave of concern washed over me, tempered by a healthy dose of confusion. How did this happen?
Orion extended his arm towards me, a sloppy grin still plastered on his face. I couldn't help but state the obvious, "You're drunk?"
Orion nodded, his head bobbing up and down as he mumbled, "Can't hold my alcohol." He rested his head on the table, his eyes drifting shut as if the effort of holding his head up had become too much. I sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement at the sight of the normally composed Orion reduced to a drunken mess.
There were a multitude of things I would have bet on happening before witnessing the normally stoic Orion in a drunken state. It was a revelation that left me questioning how well I really knew him. How did I not know this?
I carefully gathered his belongings, picking up his wallet and phone, before assisting him to his feet. He leaned heavily on me as I led him to the car, his bodyguard's eyes widening in alarm as he took in the sight of his boss's inebriated state.
The bodyguard's gaze narrowed, his expression skeptical, as I explained that I had found Orion in this condition upon exiting my meeting. Despite my assurance, the bodyguard's eyes still seemed to bore into me, as if searching for any sign of deception. His silence was palpable, and I could sense his suspicion lingering in the air.
The situation continued to escalate as Orion, still clutching my arm, slurred his request to be taken to my place instead of his own. I was taken aback by his demand, and his bodyguard's immediate refusal only added to the tension.
However, as I considered the potential risks of Orion returning to his place alone in his drunken state, I intervened, reasoning with the bodyguard that it would be safer for Orion to stay with me. The bodyguard's hesitation was obvious, and I sensed his uncertainty stemming from his lack of experience in handling a drunken Orion.
After a moment of deliberation, the bodyguard relented, his expression resigned as he nodded in agreement. "Fine, we'll take him to your place, don't you dare do anything to him!" he said, his voice was serious and laced with a hint of disapproval. Huh? What could I possibly do to this grown man? I wanted to say but I kept my mouth shut. With that, the decision was made, and we set off towards my residence, Orion still clinging to my arm, his bodyguard watching us with a mixture of concern and suspicion.
As I attempted to navigate the chaos of getting Orion ready for bed, I found myself facing a series of unexpected and increasingly intimate interactions. He trailed behind me like a lost puppy, his eyes fixed on me with an unnerving intensity.
As I tried to settle him in, he began to ask me a string of peculiar questions, his fingers reaching out to touch my hair as he inquired about its natural color. The gentle touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt a flutter in my chest.
But it was his comment about my pillow that really caught me off guard. He sniffed it, his eyes closed in rapture, as he asked if I slept in the room. The intimacy of the gesture was undeniable, and I felt a surge of heat rise to my cheeks. He doesn't know how hot and incredibly fuckable he looks right now.
And then, in a flash of movement, Orion pulled me towards him, and I found myself tumbling onto the bed, landing on top of him. As I struggled to regain my balance, he grasped my waist, holding me in place as I straddled him.
My heart hammered in my ribcage as I gazed into his eyes, the air between us charged with tension. I felt like I was drowning in the depths of his gaze, my senses reeling from the sudden proximity. He stares at me curiously, watching my every move. How had we ended up here? The question echoed in my mind.
As I straddled Orion's waist, I was acutely aware of the intimate press of our bodies. My heart racing, I felt a stirring in my groin, and my breath caught in my throat. I couldn't believe the intensity of my attraction to him. I'm really screwed.
Our eyes locked in a piercing stare, and I found myself drawn to his lips. My gaze drifted to his mouth, and I felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. I leaned in, my lips inches from his, when suddenly, his cell phone vibrated, shattering the spell.
I jerked back, my head clearing as I returned to reality. I whispered, my voice barely audible, "I want you, Orion. But not like this." I couldn't take advantage of him in his drunken state.
With a mix of relief and frustration, I carefully got down from the bed and began to tuck Orion in. As I covered him with the blankets, I couldn't help but feel a pang of desire. I walked out of the room, my heart still racing, and my body throbbing with an unfulfilled longing.
The awareness of my own arousal was unmistakable, and I couldn't shake the feeling of how insanely intense my attraction to him was.