Falling for my Hybrid Boss: Breaking the Hybrid Curse

Selena Grey

2022, New York City

Selena



“You don’t know how much I yearn for you, Rashida.” His voice was confident and calm, but something about it felt dangerous.

I knew I wanted him so desperately, he pushed me down with a speed I can't explain and he tore my dress with so much passion and desire. He traced his palm over my skin and I was burning with desire. I groaned gently as his fingertips caressed my most sensitive part and I was caught between refusing him and asking him for more.

"Tell me you want me Rashida," he said softly into my ears and I could hear myself giving him an inviting moan "I want you," I murmured breathlessly he kissed my neck as he carefully unfastened the clasp on my bra and flung it away. He then took one of my breasts in his palm and proceeded to knead it lightly, his other hand sliding lower down my body. he then removed the remainder of my clothes, and his. I could see the muscles ripple over his chest and his firmness. I wanted him desperately and I knew he wanted me too.

He bent down and took one of my n*****s in his mouth, sucking on it, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through my body. I arched my back, pressing my breast into his lips, wanting more. He moved to my other breast, his hands continuing to explore my body. He softly inserted a finger inside of me, and I could feel myself growing wet.

“You can’t escape me, Rashida.” his voice a low murmur that sent shivers through me.

He started stroking his fingers in and out, slowly at first, but gradually ramping up speed.

The pressure was rising inside me, and I knew I was close to c****x. He proceeded to lick and play with my breasts, his fingers going in and out, quicker and faster. And suddenly I woke with a gasp, my chest heaving as though I’d been running for miles. The dream always ended like this, leaving me hungry for explanations and terrified in its aftermath. I glanced at the ceiling, forcing my heart to slow down, but the recollection of his touch stayed, so real it was frustrating.

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. 8:10 AM. My stomach sank.

“Damn it!, not today,” I mumbled, tossing the blanket off and racing out of bed.

Today wasn’t just any day. It was my big break—or at least, it could be. I had an interview at Vanguard Enterprises, the firm everyone dreamed of working for. If I landed this position, it would mean stability, a chance to finally establish myself, and—most importantly—an escape from the routine that had defined my existence for far too long.

“Selena, are you awake?” my mom’s voice wafted through the door, preceded by a quiet knock.

“Yeah, Mom! Just getting ready,” I called back, slipping into my favorite navy blazer and matching pencil skirt. They weren’t new, but they fit well enough to give me a pretense of confidence.

Mom popped her head in, her eyes lighting up when she spotted me. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying to smooth the stubborn flyaways in my hair.

She stepped inside, her face softening. “You’re going to do great, you know. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

I smiled, appreciating her faith in me, even if I didn’t fully share it. “I hope so. It’s just… big. This job could change everything for us.”

She put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “No matter what happens, you’ve already made me so proud.”

Her words warmed me, but as the minutes ticked by, worry began to creep in again. I grabbed my bag and rushed toward the door, screaming a quick goodbye.

By the time I arrived at Vanguard Enterprises, I was slightly out of breath, but the sight of the tall glass building stole the air from my lungs for an entirely different reason. The building was imposing, sleek, and impossibly modern, just like the company itself.

I checked in at the reception desk, clutching my portfolio like a lifeline as the lift whisked me up to the executive floor.

The ride up the elevator felt endless, the numbers above the doors lit up with agonizing slowness. My heart was pounding, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of my nerves about the interview or the lingering remnants of the dream that still stuck to me like smoke.

When the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, I stepped out into a spotless lobby. The floor was polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the glow of modern light sources above. The Vanguard Enterprises logo was emblazoned on the wall in sleek, silver letters, a testament to the company's status and image.

A tall, impeccably dressed receptionist met me with a polite but distant smile. "Good morning. Are you here for the 9:30 interview?"

"Yes," I answered, clutching my bag tightly.

"Please have a seat in the waiting area," she said, pointing to a cluster of plush armchairs near a floor-to-ceiling window. The view overlooked the busy city below, a reminder of just how high up I was—in every sense of the phrase.

I settled into one of the chairs, trying to calm my breathing. Around me, other candidates sat stiffly, their own nerves obvious in their tense postures and restless fidgeting. I glanced at the sleek clock on the wall. 9:20 AM. Ten more minutes.

As I waited, my mind went back to the dream, unbidden. His face was still vivid in my mind, his eyes dark and intense as they held mine. The feeling of his touch, his voice—it all felt too real, too tangible to dismiss as mere fiction. But how could it be anything else? And why does he keep calling me Rashida?

"Miss Selena Grey?"

The sound of my name startled me back to the present. A woman with sharp features and no-nonsense air stood at the edge of the waiting area, carrying a clipboard. She looked like she belonged in the pages of a high-fashion magazine, her cut black suit fitting her like a glove.

"Yes, that's me," I answered, rising up immediately.

"Follow me. You're next," she remarked curtly, turning on her heel without waiting for an answer.

I grabbed my purse and ran after her, my heels clicking against the glossy floor. She led me down a long, glass-lined corridor, the sound of our footfall reverberating in the solitude. My gut twisted into tighter knots with every step.

Finally, we stopped in front of a set of towering double doors.

"The CEO will see you now," the woman replied, pushing one of the doors open and motioning for me to enter.

I stepped inside, and the scene before me made me freeze.

The office was vast, with floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the space in natural light. The design was basic yet luxurious—dark wood, sleek furnishings, and a large desk that dominated the space.

But it wasn’t the workplace that left me breathless.

It was him.

Sitting behind the desk, his fingers steepled as he read a document, was the man from my nightmares.

The same sharp jawline, the same piercing eyes, the same compelling presence that had tormented my sleep for years.

He looked up, and for a second, the world appeared to stop. Our eyes locked, and a strange, incomprehensible thrill surged through me. It was him—there was no doubt about it.

"Miss Grey, I presume?" he replied, his voice calm but forceful.

“Yes,” I responded, but my throat felt like it had closed up.

"Have a seat," he urged, referring to the chair across from his desk. His tone was professional, and distant, as though this were just another interview.

I obliged, attempting to compose myself as I sat down. Up close, he was even more striking—his features sculpted and faultless, his presence nearly overwhelming. But there was something else about him, something I couldn’t quite place. He appeared... familiar, but not simply because of the dreams. It was deeper than that, like an echo of a memory I couldn’t really fathom.