CHAPTER 34: CHAPTER 34 MIDNIGHT CALL

"Ah... I don’t want to!"

She resisted, but I paid no heed to her protests. Wrapping my arm around her slender waist, I hoisted her up and gently settled her onto the plush boss chair, pressing her down to sit.

"Be good, listen to me!"

If there was ever a time to assert dominance, it was now. This encounter was more intimate, more revealing than our previous encounter in the dark elevator. Here, under the harsh light of the desk lamp, every detail was laid bare.

Her sexy figure stirred something within me.

Yet, I dared not cross the line, suppressing the excitement that threatened to consume me. "Melody, do you have any essential oils?"

Her eyes were slightly glazed, a hint of dizziness clouding her features. "Ah, what do you need essential oils for?"

"Using aromatic oil during a massage is better; it helps to promote blood circulation!"

I had some in my cabinet, but the scent was too overpowering for the occasion.

"I think I have a bottle of essential oil in my cabinet!"

I rummaged through her cabinet, and sure enough, found a small bottle nestled inside a box, a product from Chanel. The scent was fragrant, complementing the perfume that clung to her skin.

I poured a little into my palms, spreading it evenly. "Melody, could you lift your clothes up a bit? My hands are dirty."

She seemed disoriented, and upon hearing my words, subconsciously complied.

I swallowed hard and began my work.

The essential oil warmed the areas I massaged, and her breathing grew heavier. "It’s so hot, I feel so warm!"

I wished I could make love to her right then and there.

After about fifteen minutes, I was drenched in sweat, my hands aching from the exertion. I refrained from making any inappropriate moves, not because I couldn’t, but because I chose not to.

I felt things were moving too fast.

It was better to slow down, to let her savor the moment.

Just then, I withdrew my hands, feeling somewhat fatigued. "Alright, Melody. Go home and rest well tonight; it should alleviate a lot of your pain."

At that moment, her clothes were disheveled, her eyes glazed, and her hair scattered across her face. I even caught a glimpse of reluctance in her gaze.

I was tempted to kiss her.

She was panting, propping herself up on the table. I stood up. "Rest for a while. I’ll go wash my hands."

Just as I stepped out, the patrolling security guard walked by, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Had we continued any longer, we surely would have been caught.

By the next day, everyone would have known, as these guards were notorious for their gossip.

After washing my hands and splashing my face with cold water in the restroom, the fire within me subsided.

When I returned, Melody had regained her usual aloof demeanor, her hair neatly combed once again.

However, the flush on her face had not yet faded.

"It’s getting late, let’s finish up for the day." With a finality in her voice, Melody gathered her belongings, rose from her seat, and declared, "Remember, what happened today stays between us. If word gets out, you’re done for!"

She then made her exit, but her hurried departure seemed more akin to a frantic escape than a casual leave. Her threat, upon reflection, bore the undertones of a desperate plea for my silence.

Once I had tidied up my workspace, I departed from the company at half-past eight. I boarded the bus that would take me back to my neighborhood, remembering along the way that I had a parcel awaiting collection. After retrieving it, I hurried home, took a quick shower, and eagerly tore into the package.

The contents stirred a sense of anticipation within me. Flesh-colored stockings and black lace, their ambiguous allure was potent. The items, fresh as if plucked from water, sent a thrilling jolt through my nerves.

Switching to my private account, I shot her a message. Unlike her usual prompt responses, she took her time before responding.

sex maniac: [Dear. I can’t accompany you tonight. I’m currently at a dinner.]

A dinner? I found myself wondering what kind of dinner would be held at such a late hour. Was she planning to retire to a hotel with some superior afterward? The thought irked me.

However, she sent a video along with her message, and to my surprise, I recognized several faces in it!

"Tatiana, Linda, why are they there too?" I muttered to myself. The project department head, the human resources head, almost all the director-level executives of the company were present. It was a company executive dinner. Could there be internal changes brewing within the company?

I forwarded her the photos of her clothes, and she promptly responded with a bashful emoji.

sex maniac: [Oh, you’ve received them!]

low-key guy: [Yes, but it’s a pity that their owner can’t accompany me tonight.]

sex maniac: [Sorry. (Pity)]

low-key guy: [Why apologize? Work is important. Also, don’t drink too much; it’s not good for your stomach.]

A bit of hard-to-get playfulness was fine, but overdoing it could lead to dissatisfaction. After all, we were adults and professionals: personal and professional matters should remain separate.

sex maniac: [Dear, you’re so considerate!]

low-key guy: [Alright, don’t reply now. The bosses might see and make you drink as a penalty.]

She sent a smiley face emoji and then stopped replying.

I opened the cloud drive and watched the video she sent me. The triple stimulation of sight, smell, and hearing provided an unparalleled experience. I took some photos to show her tomorrow. As I reflected on the day’s events, I felt a sense of contentment and soon drifted off to sleep.

However, my slumber was interrupted by a phone call. Glancing at the time, it was half-past midnight. Seeing the caller ID, I immediately snapped to attention and answered, "Hello, Miss Camille, what can I do for you?"

Tatiana’s voice echoed through the phone, "William, come to SevanSevan Hotel and take me home!"

What? A midnight call just to escort her home? Were we that close? Moreover, Jessica’s dinner was at SevanSevan Hotel. If I were to go now, could I possibly run into them? Remembering Jessica’s words from earlier in the day, I felt torn.

"Miss Camille, I..."

"Come quickly. I’m waiting for you here!" With that, she ended the call.

What was I supposed to do now? Should I go, or feign ignorance? If I chose not to go and ended up angering Tatiana, would Jessica and the others come to my aid? The answer was uncertain.

I decided to go. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

A quarter of an hour later, I found myself hailing a taxi to the SevanSevan Hotel.

The hotel was a renowned establishment, one of the city’s finest, and my previous visit had been during the company’s annual meeting. The average expenditure per guest was a staggering two hundred dollars, an amount equivalent to half a month’s wages for the average worker.

Upon my exit from the taxi, I couldn’t help but notice the array of opulent vehicles lining the entrance of the hotel.

Linda, Tatiana, and Jessica were all present, seemingly having just descended from the grandeur of the hotel. Oddly, the chairman of Skylight was noticeably absent.

As I approached, I observed a group of directors encircling Linda and Tatiana. Their solicitous offers of, "Mrs. Foster, allow me to escort you home," and "Miss Camille, I’m sober, let me be your chauffeur," filled the air.

Jessica, too, had indulged in the evening’s libations, her flushed complexion lending her an intoxicating allure.

I found myself hesitating, uncertain whether to intrude on the scene unfolding before me.

However, the decision was taken out of my hands when Jessica’s sharp gaze found me. "William, why are you here?" she asked, effectively eliminating any chance of a quiet retreat.

Summoning my courage, I advanced towards them, feeling it dissipate with each step.

"Jessica, I..." I began, only to be cut off by Tatiana.

"I summoned him. Is there an issue with that, Jessica?" Her words hung in the air, creating an immediate tension, and I found myself uncomfortably wedged in the middle of it.

Jessica’s previously warm gaze cooled instantly. "William, you’re full of surprises," she said, her tone icy.

I managed a wry smile. "When a superior calls, I dare not delay."

Her eyes flickered, hinting at her understanding of the hidden meaning behind my words. Linda, sensing the tension, approached us. "Jen, what’s happening?"

The difference in their forms of address was telling: one called her Jessica, the other Jen. It was clear who held a closer bond with her.

The directors, too, seemed to have divided themselves into two factions, the competitive atmosphere palpable.

Tatiana remained unyielding, showing no signs of backing down.

"Mrs. Foster, meet William, Melody’s efficient right-hand man. He recently closed a six-million-dollar deal," Jessica introduced me, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Linda’s gaze swept over me, and I realized this was the closest I had ever been to her.