'Where Roses Grow' - 𝙍𝙃𝙊𝘿𝙀𝙎
Never mix business with pleasure, they say.
Never date a rich man, they say.
Never date a man with a fiancé, they say.
Never give your virginity to a CEO, they say.
It all began when she landed the coveted position...
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"She didn't just admire his leadership; she was captivated by the way he commanded the room with a mere glance."
.
There I was. There we were. Knowing that I was in a messy bond with a man that I did not own, I was not planning on settling for less. We slept the entire night in the car, and he just left to grab a quick breakfast for us, so yes, I was in the car alone, and the thoughts hit me like a truck.
The journey had stretched out, the miles ticking away as I found myself increasingly distant from home. I was navigating with a sense of resignation, hoping that eventually, he would open up and clue me in on what was happening. My curiosity was reaching its peak, but I was cautious not to push too hard.
As he approached the car, balancing two paper bags and two steaming cups of coffee, I leaned over and unlatched the door for him, a simple gesture of courtesy.
Once settled in the car, he muttered a quick "Thanks," handing me one of the paper bags and a cup of hot, black coffee. With a sigh, he relaxed into his seat, taking a long sip before briefly checking his phone and tucking it away.
I mirrored his action, taking a tentative sip of the coffee, the warmth spreading comfortingly through me as the rich flavor danced on my tongue.
"Thanks for breakfast," I managed to murmur, though the undercurrent of frustration lingered between us.
"Anything for you," he replied, already diving into a neatly packaged plate of food. Curiosity piqued by the enticing aroma, I couldn't help but ask.
"What's that you've got there?" I inquired, watching as he took another mouthful, his words slightly muffled.
"Mexican eggs with potato hash," he explained between bites, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "A great breakfast choice."
"I've never heard of it before," I admitted, searching through my bag for a ham and cheese croissant.
"Do you want to try some?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of raspiness that I found oddly attractive, offering me a forkful of his meal.
Our gazes locked for a moment, and I quickly blinked, breaking the eye contact, and cleared my throat. "Sure," I replied, trying to maintain a moment of composure.
He gently placed the fork to my lips, and I obediently opened my mouth as he fed me, his eyes never leaving mine. His gaze seemed to speak volumes, but I fought against its pull, focusing instead on the taste of the unfamiliar dish as it danced on my tongue.
As I chewed slowly, savoring the flavors, he leaned closer, using his thumb to wipe away any visible crumbs from my lips. "How is it?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, "It's amazing. Really... good," I managed to say, taking another sip of coffee to steady myself.
Grabbing the croissant, I eagerly took a bite, sinking into the delicious taste. Each mouthful seemed to elicit a soft moan of pleasure, punctuated by occasional sips of coffee to cleanse my palate.
