The door slapped open at the exact moment. And it surprised Catherine to see him there. The man from earlier She'd tried her hardest to keep a poker face on. She was a professional, after all, and she had seen worse. It would not phase her. His smile vanished, giving her a piercing look that had her freezing in her spot.
Did he remember her? She didn't have to contemplate that long for the answer since he took her grips and pulled her in. "Why the hell are you here?" he exclaimed.
I'm a..." Catherine stuttered. She would've taken up the challenge had he not been rushing. He grinned, slashing her off as she peeled her palms from his grasp.
"You work here?" Frowning, they both went to the table as Catherine brought back the brown manila envelope she'd forgotten from yesterday's meeting. "Yes, and can you please let me go?" She asked. She will not swerve like all the others. Catherine thinks she recognized him from somewhere else now that she can see him without the wind and rain obscuring his face.
She recognized him from someplace, but for the love of God, she couldn't remember where, when, or how. She was disappointed and a bit furious at herself for not recalling him.
Who was he? Sean David Walton, a 30-year-old millionaire who owns the Lava Soft, was the man.The company his grandfather spent 18 years trying to succeed with now has over 28 branches and over 120 hotels and offices all over the world. She knew this because she had done her investigation while waiting for the papers in the copy room. And, for the record, he appears to be rather familiar in any case, which was more terrifying than having to drink coffee without a lump of sugar in it.How could he be so perfect? She associated his physical characteristics with those of an underwear model—kind of perfection. He was superb-looking, and his general appearance was disarming. He's tall, has vast shoulders, ripped abs, a light dusting of chest hair complete with a happy trail, and is well-endowed. His chiseled facial features were striking; a firm jaw, a smooth-sculpted nose, and a crooked smile, finishing it with eyes the shade of blue-gray and a full head of dark copper strands.
He then moved closer, so close that she could smell the mixture of cologne and aftershave he was wearing.
Why hadn't she noticed that earlier? "Well, sir!" she stammered as he smirked down at her.What do you think of me now, Miss? I'm running late. Did I get your tongue under your throat?" He asked, snaking an arm around her trembling waist and pulling her towards his solid torso as she was almost on the verge of slipping.
Catherine's eyes widened in shock as she felt her cheeks turn scarlet. "I'm sorry for hitting you earlier on the sidewalk, Mr. Walton." She stammered again, cringing her face back to put some distance between them.
Mr. Walton ignored her attempt to move away and leaned in so that his lips were near her ear. Where is that temper of yours, Miss? I'm running late. Do I make you feel uncomfortable? "Who do you know who I was now that you know who I was?"He trailed off.
"Or better yet, are you planning on writing your resignation letter?" He whispered as Catherine felt her throat go dry.
She scowled and opened her mouth to defend herself, but she remembered that he was, after all, the new boss, so she just nodded and turned around to leave. He grinned before dismissing her once again, leaving her very disturbed with his statement.
Catherine was swearing to every known god on the planet two hours later for the existence of the being known as Sean Dickhead Walton.Not only was the guy rude and arrogant, but he was also the definition of a man who knows it all. Overbearing self-proclaims the god of all gods and goddesses. But well, it's hot as hell nevertheless!
The meeting was indeed tiresome, and she zoomed out for almost half of it.
Lunchtime passed by with no actual lunch. She had a bundle of data to compile by 4:00 pm, so Catherine ate the single leftover sandwich from this morning and typed single-handedly. Where was the cup of coffee when she needed it most? She murmured.
When she was finished, with five minutes to spare, she gathered all the files with one hand and hurled them onto her desk to finish tomorrow. With that, she stood up and trudged out the door, slamming it shut on her way out. Her day was done, and it exhausted her like hell. She sighed, thinking about the new boss. The bus ride took an hour, which gave her enough time to rest her mind and her eyes, waiting for the bus to come while snacking on her savory turkey sandwiches from the subway.
Why does he look so familiar? Even his scent was familiar. Where did she meet him before? With that thought and the chilling wind outside, Catherine knew for sure a ride from home wasn't any better. She'd threaded her way in and out of the stream. She felt alone in this throng. She felt like she did not belong here. She felt unwanted!
Closing her eyes inside the bus, she seemed detached from the world. With a stretch and a yawn, Catherine fell asleep, and for an unknown reason, she felt like someone snuggled right into her. Her dreams were always the same. She could recall the flat shade of blue-grey hue of his eyes the last time he scowled at her; the glow was striking against the background of his pale skin with his dark copper hair. Today, his eyes were a different hue: a strange amber, but with the same blue-grey tone.
She saw a coin, an ancient-looking hand covered in dirt, the engravings worn and the head so stained from time. She held it in her left hand, staring at the mud that was dirtying her skin. Flipping it over and over. so close to her face that the coin had the aroma of musty blood and rustiness. She turned to her right palm and in the midst of the seizing was a new cloverleaf, fresh and beautiful. And as far as Catherine could remember, according to Irish tradition, those who found a four-leaf growth were destined for good luck, as each petal in the clover symbolizes good omens for faith, hope, love, and luck for the finder. A perfect sphere of clique dew crowned the leaf, reflecting a picture of Catherine's face: grated and peaceful, yet the sadness was recognizable. When she flipped back the coin, the form of the mysterious man had freed himself and journeyed over to the cloverleaf, stirring the growth of a powerful root and even blurrin
That very same night, she had the feeling of being unleashed and welcoming yet odd; she was frightened to even close her eyes, but her bed was her oasis. She had always had a little sparkle of joy before falling asleep. She was that way from childhood. Her bed was her favorite thing, and it made her as happy as any other treatment. And when her thoughts became nonsense and more fascinating, she knew she was falling asleep. Now all she had to do was let go. Someone sneaked into her bed and crawled their hand into her nightgown, near her perfect mountains. He heard her gasp when he sucked one of her buds. He didn't care if anyone could hear her moaning in his name outside her bedroom. Besides, he just needed a release. "God! Mr. Walton, stop it! " She tried to push him away, but he automatically slid his hand through her nightgown and touched her where it was wet and moist. Their emotions were on high, and before they knew it, they began to kiss passionately. As they k
Why did he swallow that pill, anyway? Sean couldn't even fathom it. But this place was wonderful. A little scary, but hell, he could manage this. After all, he was Sean David Walton. Nothing scares him anymore, not even death himself. Walking past her, Sean noticed something was familiar. This place was silent, too silent even for his liking. Furthermore, the freezing cold winter wind was unnatural to his senses.He wondered if it was based on these simple experiences in his reality or on a mass scale in his consciousness. Or maybe fate was trying to play with him. After all, Sean was not a popular gentleman in London. Yes, he was rich and powerful, but he had fewer friends and acquaintances, and he was not a good individual, and he admitted that perhaps this experience resulted from his ability to mock the reality of its existence. For a change, if this was a joke made in heaven, then it's on him altogether. Sean thought to himself. He had
As they walked up to the mountain, its shadows greased over the smooth backs of hills and fluttered across the valley clumped with icy pine. Both marveled at its beauty as they kept on walking up, fearing what lay ahead. A thirst for adventure and charm awakened in her heart and flowed out into the tips of her toes, compelling her to want to run straight into the embrace of the proud mountains. The air was chilling, but they went on and on while the skies darkened. The acoustic landscape was at once familiar to Catherine. They continued moving up; they didn't dare to stop; she was tired as hell, weary with the burden of long-closed eyes; she could have easily pulled off being a walking zombie, dead on the inside but subconsciously awake. However, when they reached the peak, both were speechless. She stood atop the rocky surface and lifted her arms in accomplishment. Clouds swirled around her in an icy greeting, and snow coated the mounta
London Catherine woke up and howled in genuine misery, seeing her bitten mark with fiery veins encircling her arm. Her body was glowing from the inside out. She was frightened. For hours, she lay there alone, crying, and, worst of all, burning. The morning sun shines through the tiny window, adding light to her hell, and the burn was unbearable, as she had been there all night and no one had heard her screams for help.A sense of grief washed over her at the moment. She was going to die here unattended. Every minute her heart beat slower, and every second her slow death was near. The distress and burning hadn't ceased, but after being in agony for hours upon hours, her mind was no longer her own. The hardest part was that the burn took her to the verge of consciousness but never let her fall over into oblivion. She could still feel her body, yet she couldn't move it. So, she lay gazing at the window, awaiting death.
Catherine ran through a maze of buildings and snaking side streets as the sky rumbled and heavy rain bounced off the cobblestones. A storm suppressed the sun, graying the world around her. Drops of rain beat against her skin like hammers when Sean's voice can be heard from the distance trying to stop her from running. Reaching her, "Sean, I realize you have these ideas about me, and now your cousin is involved in our quest, but the worst part is that I don't know how to trust you." She justified her action as they went into the bus shelter, drying themselves. "I'm still terrified of what's going on in the Land of Nod, and yet you accepted it without question and asked me to justify it myself."She added. I'm sorry, but we called for help! We needed him to explain everything to us and give us some more understanding about what happened. After all, he had the expertise and he'd been studying the answers to this phenomenon since he started dreaming about the Cold
Waking from an uncomfortable slumber was something Sean never got accustomed to. The return of sensation to his numbed body was like a thousand spikes nudging him beneath his skin. His eyelids were crusted and vast. Even his bones had turned against him, stabbing him when he went to sit or lie down. The screeching of the bird rubbed at his nerves, and the sun smarted at his eyes. But that was the worst of it. He seized a tentative sniff. The smell of the fresh morning air, the calming dewy smell of the morning, makes him smile. He then cracks his jaws and stretches his arms. "Wake up everyone," he said, fighting the urge to sleep back, but he knew they needed to keep moving and find the Fae Warrior for an answer. "We have a long day ahead of us," he added. The sunrise radiated off swans like clouds, and the rising air breezes buoyed them. It was his first foray into the Grassland, and he was enthralled.He was curious to see what adventure lay ahead. T
Don't worry, I won't try anything, even though I want to. Prestiney pulled away and swung to catch her smirk just before it slipped off her face as Miah turned to leave. "Little sis, touch my cookies, and you are dead to me! I swear I'm going to kill you and watch your dying eyes with a grin on my face. " Miah responded as she went to the door. The younger Fae was looking at her as if she was measuring what coffin would fit her the best and gave her a small smirk. "Himp! As if I won't fight you, but trust me, I'll give you to the monster before you can even take that sword. " She repeated, stepping aside as a sign for her to leave. This wasn't over, you pig. I'll make you disappear in a blink within this week, and I'll feed your heart to the dog. " "We don't have a dog, you dickhead," Pristina screeched. To the calf: