Chapter 3: After hours
1734 Words
Chapter Three
Gwen’s POV
It'd been an hour since the meeting ended but for some reason, the way Mr Belmont looked at me during that correction stuck with me.
Like he’d just discovered a ticking time bomb.
Something he wanted.
Absurd really.
The executives quietly empty the hall discussing the usual fabrics and deadlines, I on the other hand had been left to gather the documents used for the meeting.
His eyes burned through me the whole time, I could feel it.
Teasing.
Distracting as well.
“You surprised them.”
His voice sneaks in from behind me.
I almost smack into his chest as I turn around too quickly
Jeez lewis.
Up close, the man the man looked like a Greek god.
His tie is loosened a bit, revealing just enough of his neck and cleavage for me to run an entire scene of fifty shades of grey in my head.
“I hope I didn't cause you any injury” I say quickly.
“Not a scratch little one”
His eyes flicker over my face a little while.
“They did need someone blunt enough to spot their weak designs.”
I blink.
Weak?
Those designs looked pretty impeccable to me.
Damon spots my expression and grins lightly.
“You’re a woman of talent, Gwen, don't look so stunned.”
Hearing him say my first name like that had a few effects on me.
“Thank you.”
He steps closer.
“Olivia did say you graduated top of your class.”
“She mentioned that?”
“She also said you worked harder than everyone else.”
My lips part quite slightly in surprise.
Olivia didn't seem like one for compliments.
Damon stares for a bit then says.
“You look pretty when you talk about fashion.”
My breath catches instantly.
Oh.
Oh no.
The room suddenly feels too warm.
“Mr Belmont—”
“Damon.”
“Damon…” Even saying it feels intimate. “You shouldn’t flirt with me.”
One dark brow lifts.
“And why not?”
Because I’ll combust?
Because my brain stops functioning every time you look at me?
Because I’ve imagined inappropriate things about you for years?
Instead, I say the safer option.
“Office romance isn’t allowed.”
He chuckles lowly.
“olivia got in your head?”
“She seemed very serious about it.”
“She usually is.”
There’s amusement in his eyes now.
Dangerous amusement.
He places one hand on the table and traps me in between his body and the furniture, no touches.
But somehow it still feels intimate.
Too intimate.
“You’re nervous again, little one.”
“I wonder why.”
That earns me a genuine laugh.
God.
Even his laugh is attractive.
This man truly has no flaws and I hate it.
He tilts his head.
“You seem to not have a problem saying what you're thinking.”
“That’s usually a problem.”
“Not for me.”
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth.
And my entire body reacts instantly.
Heat spreads low in my stomach.
I should move.
I should absolutely move.
But I can’t.
“You keep looking at my lips,” I blurt out before my brain can stop me.
His eyes lift slowly back to mine.
“And you keep noticing.”
My heartbeat becomes violently loud.
Nobody has ever looked at me the way Damon Belmont does.
Like he’s imagining things.
Bad things.
Very bad things.
The door suddenly swings open.
“Damon, the investors—”
The assistant from earlier freezes.
His eyes flick between us.
Damon doesn’t even step away from me immediately, which somehow makes everything worse.
Or better.
Definitely worse.
“I’ll be out in Five marcus,” Damon says calmly.
Marcus strangely clears his throat.
“Right.”
And Marcus disappears again.
I exhale shakily.
“That looked bad.”
Damon finally steps back.
“I’ve looked worse.”
I stare at him.
He smiles slowly.
Oh this man is a menace.
Complete menace.
“I really should get back to work,” I mumble.
“You should.”
But neither of us move.
The tension stretches.
Sharp.
Heavy.
Then Damon reaches toward me suddenly.
I freeze.
His fingers tread lightly through my cheeks.
My entire body goes still.
He pulls away holding a tiny strand of loose thread from my blouse.
“Relax,” he murmurs softly. “You look like you'd pass out each time I touch you.”
“Well you keeping touching me without asking.”
His eyes grow dark a little.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Before I can process that thought, Olivia’s sharp voice echoes from outside.
“Miss Peters.”
I practically jump backward.
Damon looks deeply entertained.
“I’ll see you later, little one.”
Then he walks out leaving me totally distorted.
—
The rest of my day goes by in shambles.
Phones ringing.
Designers arguing.
Models rushing in and out.
Fabric samples everywhere.
I barely breathe now.
Still, somehow Damon keeps appearing.
Like a very hot hallucination.
Once near the design department.
Again outside Olivia’s office.
Then during lunch when he casually sat across from me in the executive dining area while everybody stared like they were witnessing a national crisis.
Which honestly…they might have been.
“You’re popular today,” Zara whispers while stabbing her salad dramatically.
“I’m going to die.”
“Probably. But what a way to go.”
I kick her lightly under the table.
“Ow!”
“You’re not helping.”
She leans closer.
“He keeps looking at you.”
It's quite clear Zara.
Because every single time Damon’s gaze lands on me, I feel it physically.
Like fingers sliding over skin.
I glance up accidentally.
Huge mistake.
Damon is already watching me from across the room while speaking to another executive.
His expression barely changes.
But then his eyes slowly travel down my body once.
Heat instantly floods my face.
Zara chokes on her drink.
“Oh my God.”
“Stop looking!”
“You stop being looked at like that!”
I grab my water aggressively.
This is insanity.
Actual insanity.
And somehow it only gets worse after work.
Because at exactly six fifteen, Olivia drops another stack of files onto my desk.
“I need these reorganized tonight.”
I stare at the mountain of paperwork.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“But everyone’s leaving.”
“And?”
I sigh internally.
“Okay.”
Without another word, Olivia walks away in heels sharp enough to kill a man.
I spend another hour organizing schedules and documents until the office becomes almost completely empty.
The silence feels strange after such a hectic day.
I finally stretch tiredly in my chair and glance at the clock.
7:42 PM.
Great.
My stomach beeps its hungry alarm.
“Why didn't I just have breakfast?,” I mutter.
“Just gotta listen to the mothers sometimes.”
I gasp loudly.
Damon stands at the door, holding up two takeout bags.
How does this man keep swooping in on me?
“You almost gave me cardiac arrest.”
“So dramatic.”
He walks inside my office like he belongs there.
Which technically he does.
Unfortunately.
“What are you still doing here?” I ask carefully.
“Working.” He places the food on my desk. “Same as you.”
I look at the bags curiously.
“What do we have here?”
“Food.”
“I can see that.”
“You looked hungry.”
That…unexpectedly softens something inside me.
Damon takes off his jacket and sits beside me.
Every movement he makes feels expensive.
Controlled.
Confident.
“Eat, little one.”
I hesitate.
Then my stomach betrays me again.
He smirks.
Traitorous body.
I slowly open the bag and nearly moan.
“Burgers?”
“You sound emotional.”
“I love burgers.”
“Good to know.”
I take a bite and almost ascend spiritually.
“Oh my God.”
Damon watches me in amusement.
“You might be enjoying this too much.”
“Don’t you understand?.” I point at him dramatically with the burger. “This is healing something in me.”
He laughs quietly.
And suddenly the atmosphere changes.
Softer now.
Less tense.
Almost normal.
Which somehow feels even more dangerous.
“You’re different than I expected,” I admit quietly.
Damon studies me carefully.
“How so?”
“I thought you’d be colder.”
“I can be.”
Shivers go down my spine.
There’s something beneath his charm.
Something darker.
More intense.
I swallow slowly.
“But not with me?”
His gaze sharpens instantly.
“No,” he says softly. “Not with you.”
The room suddenly feels very small.
Very quiet.
My pulse races as Damon slowly reaches toward me again.
This time his thumb brushes gently against the corner of my mouth.
I freeze completely.
“You had some sauce on….,” he murmurs.
But his hand doesn’t move away immediately.
His eyes stay locked on mine.
And for one reckless second—
He wants to kiss me.
I want that too.
I really want that.
His gaze lowers to my lips again.
The tension was a lot.
Then his phone rings loudly.
The moment shatters instantly.
Damon shuts his eyes like he was annoyed by the interruption.
He pulls away.
“Belmont.”
His demeanor quickly changes during the call.
Colder.
Sharper.
Powerful.
I quietly watch him while pretending not to.
It’s fascinating.
The soft teasing man from moments ago disappears completely, replaced by the billionaire CEO everybody fears.
“Yes,” he says into the phone flatly. “Handle it.”
Then he hangs up.
Silence fills the office again.
Damon looks back at me.
And somehow the softer version returns immediately.
This shouldn't affect me but it does.
“Mind if I take you home?,” he says quietly.
“I have my bike.”
His jaw tightens slightly.
“At this hour?”
“I’ll survive.”
“I know.” His eyes hold mine steadily. “Doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”
“I see” I mutter.
This man says things so casually that would absolutely destroy weaker women.
Unfortunately for me, I may already be one of them.
- Writer
