Walls Between Us

11 | love & hate

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C A R T E R

Where is she?

I type the text and then press send, looking up to see whether Dawson has received it. He is standing by the door of the large, round room like a guard with his hands behind his back while Philip Cross shares the details of the company's financial status in the market.

I haven't paid a single attention to Philip's words because my eyes are glued to the door from where I expect Amaya to burst in anytime soon.

She is so very late. I have to teach her a lesson for that.

Something about pissing Amaya off nowadays gets me off. It's cute to see her all bothered and on the edge of her seat. She thinks she can pretend there's nothing between us anymore but I know that's not true. The electricity between us is still there and I need her to feel it too.

Fuck that boyfriend of hers! She knows she belongs with me. I am not letting another man take my life with her.

Dawson must have heard the ping of his phone. He moves, taking it out of his pocket, and then peers at me from over the screen.

I pretend to focus on Philip as he explains the graphs to us all. The conference room has about twenty people around the large table, all of whom are my most dedicated employees with superior positions. I had hoped that Amaya would be excited to join me for her first meeting after her promotion.

She left to meet that douche bag of hers and hasn't come back yet. To say I am fucking pissed would be an understatement.

My phone screen lights up in my hand and I take a peek to see Dawson's reply.

I have no idea, boss.

Lips pressed into a thin line, I glance at my PA, who swallows a gulp seeing my stoic look. My fingers curl to fists under the table, the need to ditch the meeting and call Amaya growing urgent.

Where is she?

As if to answer my question, the door to the conference room opens. I suck in a breath inaudibly as Amaya's pretty face pops in before her body follows along.

"I'm so sorry. Please continue..."

She smiles at the room as she invites herself in. Philip stops for a while and every pair of eyes in the room focuses on me. The employees are scared and I can smell the intrigue like a wolf as they glance at each other.

They are waiting for me to say something to Amaya. However, they have no idea that the woman who is expected to take my wrath is the occupant of my heart instead.

As she walks over to me, my eyes slide down her figure like they always do. Her hair is loosened over her shoulders, the long strands falling neatly while her hips sway as she moves closer. Her red dress appears to be in stark contrast with the rest of the neutral-colored surroundings. I had imagined that dress almost ten times on my bedroom floor today whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Bell. I had some urgent work," she says to me, pretending that our conversation in the afternoon didn't happen.

Her voice is so sexy it sends a rush of blood straight to my groin. She knows she has an effect on me. The blink of her eyes gives her away. No other employee would dare to look at me like they can get me on my knees with one crook of their finger.

Amaya can get me anywhere she wants to. On my knees, my face buried between her legs, or on my bed, with my body warm over hers. She knows she can.

Trying to maintain my composure, I shift in my seat, facing my body to hers while she takes the seat reserved for her to my right.