Seduced by a Lie (On Hold)

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5. Trouble.




“Oh, God no! Blergh!”

I stood in front of my closet, trying to decide my attire for tomorrow’s job interview and so far, I had discarded seven outfits which led me to wonder, in exactly what state of mind I had spent my hard-earned money on those pieces of shit.

Ever since I had received the call for the last phase of the interview, the butterflies had been teetering inside constantly. As the weekend flew by on a whim and the day neared, those butterflies had turned into giant fucking moths battling a damn war inside me!


Confidence wasn’t something that I had ever lacked when my skills and capabilities were in question, but working for this company wasn’t a minor feat by any means. The decision of taking up this job had its own risks, but I set my eyes firm on the rewards.

Stanley & Hewlett (S&H) Inc, one of the biggest names in the tech industry, and I was ready to take it by storm.

“Need some help there, bestie?” Marcus called out, eyeing the enormous pile of rejected clothes on my bed.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you have a date tonight?”

“Yeah, well, I canceled it,” he shrugged, removing the pile of clothes aside, making space for himself to sit.

“Well, that’s an interesting development. Has this got to do anything with the events of last night?” I asked while trying a top against my body only to add it to the ever-growing discarded pile.

“Hey, I thought we talked about this already. I didn’t cancel because I was hung-up on Shane or something”

“Never said you were, buddy,” I smirked at his guilty demeanor, which gave me the reassurance that whatever I had done was a step in the right direction, even if it were to end up with him being pissed as hell at me.

“Stop being such a shit and wear that black blazer with the white top you bought last week and pair it with the black formal pants, or even a pencil skirt would work too.” He looked around my room giving me a judgemental stare, “Jesus! Look at this place! For a girl, you’re pretty fucking messy.”

“And here I was almost thanking you for your help.”

He chuckled and pecked my cheek, “You’re welcome, anyway. And I know you’re going to smash that interview, like always!”

“I hope so,” I smiled, grateful for having him in my life.

“And try not to dream about the guy from last night, you need to get some sleep.”

Well, that nice thought about him didn’t last for long.

“Marcus!” I yelled out, throwing a pillow at him.

“Hey! I was talking about the guy you went home with! Who did you think I was referring to?”

“Piss off, smartass!” I glowered at him as he walked away from me, laughing.

“Love you too, babygirl,” his voice rang out, another pillow making its way in his direction.

Fucking Asshole!

After sorting everything for tomorrow when I hit the hay rather late, I couldn’t sleep a wink, my thoughts being invaded by those intense earthy brown eyes, all thanks to the traitor I called my best friend.

Was I really unnecessarily rude to him?

But that wasn’t all that had kept me up that night. The events of last night coupled with the chat I had with Marcus earlier today had opened the portal to the deep-seated emotions that I had sealed off years ago, and it was mentally draining.

Damn it! Will I ever be over it?

Last night, I dragged Marc with me to the club on the pretense of celebrating the interview call I had received the day ago, when I only wanted to just get out of my head. Deep down, I think Marc knew what I was doing, but he hadn’t protested or called me out on it thankfully. Intending to have a night of fun with my best friend and blowing off some tension dancing the night away, going home with someone or bringing someone back was never the plan.

And then there he was...

Seated on the couch, a floor above which perhaps was the VIP area, my gaze settled on a guy who probably held the most gorgeous smile I had ever seen on a man before. He was not in a typical club attire like the rest, so weren’t the people he was with, my best guess being them arriving straight after work. Wearing a buttoned-down shirt, sleeves rolled with two top buttons popped open, he could easily rival as the sexiest guy in the club, hands down. He sported a scruffy day-old stubble, ruffled hair, sexy as sin smile, and unbounded confidence which showed that whatever game the man played, he was not accustomed to losing and all I could think of was how exhilarating it would be to bring a person like him, down to my mercy, make him work and beg. The mere thought of this possibility made my core warm with desire, and I knew I was bordering on dangerous territory there.

The attraction was nearly instantaneous. I’d be lying if I denied that when anyone with a pair of eyes could see the man was damn well easy on the eyes and I wondered if that brain was as sexy and sharp as he looked.

And then he had to send me that fucking drink!

It felt as though a damn mirror had shattered into smithereens, and by the time he had opened that cocky as hell mouth, that faux image that I had created in my head pixelated to the point of obscurity.

And, if that wasn’t enough, he then went and called me sweetheart. Sweetheart? Blergh!

Instant turn off!

I couldn’t stress enough about my dislike for pet names, and then his entitled self assumed his assoholic demeanor would turn me on like the plastic bimbos out there. Hell to the fuck no!

I wasn’t another damn leaf on a big ass tree and I refused to be treated as such! Never did back then, and wouldn’t now. So, I did what I knew best; making him miserable as fuck and squashing that larger-than-life ego right under my heels.

What I hadn’t expected, however, was him turning out to be so damn persistent. He chased me hard and while I was getting put off with his usual cliched advances, as the night went on, I rather enjoyed this little cat-and-mouse game we had been engaging in; much to my surprise.

And what followed later on the dance floor almost made me throw all my inhibitions right out the window and beg him to take me wherever he wanted, however he wanted, and that thought alone was menacing enough to pull me back to reality.

So, even though my lips craved to be taken by his, my skin desired the touch of his long fingers gliding against it, my chest burned with heat to the point I feared my entire being would be aflame and my core ached at the thought of him sinfully ravaging me, my entire body tingling with sheer lust, I pushed him away.

Because there was no way I would ever let any man hold that kind of power over me. The way he stealthily stole my breath away at the first sight of him without even trying, the way he made me think of unspeakable things in the space of an hour, the way he almost made me compromise with myself; there was no man born on this earth to whom I’d ever relinquished that kind of control. Never again.

So, I needed to get away from him. That was a dangerous territory I had no intention of revisiting. That man reeked of nothing but trouble!

A manwhore. Troublemaker. Heartbreaker.

And, at the end of the night when he left with that plastic blonde he was dancing with, who would probably be just another notch on his bedpost, I knew I had made the right decision.

God knows why Marc thought he wasn’t that bad. He was nothing more than an infuriating, man-whorish asshole. Period.

Okay, maybe he was acting like any other man in that club. Hell, I knew there were worse people lurking in there waiting for their prey, but he ticked me off for the obvious reasons. Rather, should I have said, he reminded me a little too much of someone and that bit made all the warning sirens blare in my head.

So, when a mixture of lust for him and fury at myself for feeling this way drove me to drink a little too much, not going home with anyone was a plan that was soon forgotten. I had to fuck the thought of him out of my system. Did that make me a hypocrite? Marc thought it did.

Oh well, the point was, I didn’t need that kind of shit in my life again, in his form, even if it was just for one night. Not again! Thank you!

Was that a healthy way of dealing with things? No. Did I care at that point? Also, no.

But I was good the way I was. Single, not having a care in the world, and occasional nights of fun.

No strings, no stress.

No expectations. No heartbreak.

And given my work, this life was better suited for me. I was ridiculous to have ever thought it could be otherwise. Even though it got a tad lonely.

At least, I’d never had to see him again or I hope I didn’t have to.

Ugh! Why the fuck am I even thinking about him?

With that thought, I drifted off to sleep during the night. I had already given way too much thought into this than it deserved. Besides, it wasn’t like I’d be running into him again anytime soon, right?

Coincidences don’t happen that frequently. That quota filled with us running into each other twice in less than 12hrs. Nope! I was done with it.

If I only knew, that chapter was far from being closed.

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