9. Mireille
Mireille
I stand in front of the full-length mirror, nervously smoothing down the front of my dress.
The gown Evander had bought for me—a deep emerald green that compliments my eyes, with a plunging neckline and a slit up one leg that's just this side of scandalous.
My hair is swept up in an elegant updo, and I've applied more makeup than usual, emphasizing my eyes and lips.
I glance around the hotel suite and not for the first time today, wonder what the hell Evander was playing at booking just one suite for the two of us, thankfully, there’s two beds, so I won’t have to share with him, but still, it’s hard enough being around him during work hours, no way I’ll be sleeping in the same room as him.
Is he crazy? I don’t know what he was thinking when he booked this suite.
As I slip on my heels, I can't help but think about what Evander will think when he sees me.
We've maintained a careful professional distance since our conversation in the office, but there's still an undeniable tension between us.
And now here I am, about to spend an evening by his side in this knockout dress.
The door to the suite opens. I take a deep breath, give myself one last once-over in the mirror, before I turn and see Evander standing, watching me.
He’s wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo, looking even more handsome than usual.
His eyes widen as he takes in my appearance, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that makes my skin tingle.
"Mireille," he says, his voice low and a bit husky. "You look... absolutely breathtaking."
I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you, Evander. You clean up pretty well yourself."
He offers me his arm with a small smile. "Shall we?"
As we make our way out of the hotel suite, I can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. I’ve never been to a gala event before. It’s bound to be fun.
A few minutes later we enter the grand ballroom, I'm momentarily overwhelmed by the sea of designer gowns and tuxedos. Evander guides me through the crowd with a gentle hand on my lower back, stopping occasionally to greet acquaintances and business associates.
"You're doing great," he murmurs in my ear as we pause between introductions. "Just relax and be yourself."
I give him a grateful smile, touched by his encouragement. As we make our way to our assigned table, I can feel eyes on us. I overhear snippets of whispered conversations:
"Who's that with Evander Prescott?"
"I've never seen him bring a date to one of these events before."
"She's gorgeous. I wonder if she's his girlfriend?"
I try to ignore the gossip, focusing instead on the warmth of Evander's hand on my back and the way he keeps glancing at me with a soft smile.
As the evening progresses, I find myself relaxing and even enjoying the event. The food is amazing and to die for, the champagne flows freely, and the conversation at our table is easy and engaging. Evander keeps me involved, often asking for my opinion or input on various topics.
After dinner, the music starts up and couples begin to filter onto the dance floor. I watch them all with a smile on my face. Everyone seems to be having an amazing time, and I love people watching.
"Would you like to dance?" Evander's voice startles me out of my reverie.
I look up at him in surprise. "I didn't think you danced."
He gives me a small, almost shy smile. "I don't, usually. But I'd like to dance with you, if you're willing."
My heart skips a beat as I take his offered hand. "I'd love to."
Evander leads me onto the dance floor, pulling me close as we begin to sway to the music. One of his hands rests on my waist, the other holding mine gently. I can feel the heat of his body, smell his cologne, and it's intoxicating.
"You really do look beautiful tonight, Mireille," he says softly, his blue eyes intense as they meet mine.
I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you. You look very handsome yourself."
We dance in silence for a few moments, lost in the music and the feeling of being in each other's arms. I can't help but think about how right this feels, how perfectly we fit together.
As the song comes to an end, Evander doesn't let go. Instead, he leans in close, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, "What do you say we get out of here?"
I pull back slightly, searching his face. "What about the gala? Don't you need to stay?"
He shakes his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. "We've made our appearance. I think we can slip away now without anyone noticing."
My heart races at the implication of his words. "Okay," I hear myself say, barely above a whisper. "Let's go."
Evander takes my hand, leading me discreetly off the dance floor and towards the exit. As we slip out of the ballroom, I feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. What exactly does Evander have in mind?
We make our way back to our hotel suite in charged silence, the tension between us is hard to miss. As soon as the door closes behind us, Evander turns to me, his blue eyes intense.
"Mireille," he says softly, taking a step closer. "I know we agreed to keep things professional, but I can't deny my feelings for you any longer. Being here with you tonight, seeing you in that dress... you're all I can think about."
My breath catches in my throat. "Evander, I..."
But before I can finish, he closes the distance between us, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. Unlike our kiss on the beach, which was passionate but tinged with surprise and uncertainty, this kiss is deliberate, filled with longing and desire.
I melt into him, my arms winding around his neck as his hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him. The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in the sensation of his lips on mine, the taste of him, the feeling of his strong body pressed against me.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing heavily. Evander rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he murmurs, but makes no move to let me go.
"I know," I reply, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "But I don't want to stop."
Evander opens his eyes, searching my face. Whatever he sees there seems to make up his mind. With a low growl, he kisses me again, more urgently this time. His hands roam my body, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.
I fumble with the buttons of his shirt as he trails kisses down my neck. We stumble towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way. As Evander lays me down on the soft mattress, I can't help but think that this is where we've been heading all along, despite our best efforts to deny it.
"Are you sure about this?" Evander asks, hovering above me, his eyes dark with desire but also filled with concern.
I nod, pulling him closer. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
“So beautiful,” he whispers as he positions his cock at my entrance. “I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”
My breath hitches at his words, God. I love him telling me how beautiful I am.
He slides into me, slowly pushing his cock into me. Filling me up inch by inch. Stretching me with his thick length. I cry out as he bottoms out inside of me. God, it feels amazing. It’s so much better than I could have ever imagined.
“Evander,” I gasp, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist, pulling him even further into me.
His gaze hasn’t once wavered from my face, his expression softer than I have ever witnessed from him.
“That’s it,” he urges as I match his pace, our thrusts in sync, I can’t stop grinding against his cock. This is the best I’ve ever had.
“Yes,” I hiss, his hands tightening around my hips. I try to quicken the pace but his fingers bite into my skin. “Please?” I plead with him, needing more.
He shakes his head. “No, like this,” he growls, but softens the blow by pressing his lips down against mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, tangling with mine as he steals my breath away. “I want it this way.”
I nod, speechless at the moment as he moves deeply inside me, maintaining a slow rhythm.
“God, so good baby.”
His eyes stay on mine, giving me every ounce of his attention as he fucks me like he means it. It’s not long until my pleasure is rising, it’s a slow build, with each thrust it rises a little more.
“Come for me, baby,” his teeth bared, his thrusts deeper, but his pace stays the same. Slow but precise.
My orgasm shatters over me and I cry out his name, my entire body burning as I come.
He grits his teeth and pushes into me once more, his cock thickens, and he releases a low groan as he cums.
He presses a hard kiss against my lip, and I kiss him back, loving the connection between us. I just pray that this doesn’t change things between us. He pulls out of me, and I wince at the pain. He lies beside me;is lips pressed against my shoulder blade.
We lie there in silence for a few moments, processing. Part of me is elated—this is everything I've wanted for so long. But another part is anxious about what this means for us, for our working relationship.
"Evander," I start hesitantly. "What happens now?"
He's quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin. "I don't know," he finally admits. "This changes things between us. We can't go back to the way things were."
I nod, my stomach twisting with nerves. "Do you regret it?"
"No," he says firmly, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. "I don't regret a single moment with you, Mireille. But we'll need to figure out how to move forward from here."
I bite my lip, considering. "Maybe... maybe we could keep this separate from work? See where things go between us privately, but maintain our professional relationship at the office?"
Evander nods slowly. "That could work. It won't be easy, but I'm willing to try if you are."
"I am," I say softly, leaning in to kiss him.
As our lips meet again, slower and sweeter this time, I push aside my worries about the future. For now, I just want to savor this moment, here in Evander's arms. Whatever challenges tomorrow brings, we'll face them together.