"Mr. Moreaux, hold on just a little longer. We'll take the private elevator—quickly," said Shan, gripping me like a bodyguard in an action film and dialing his phone like his thumbs had CIA clearance.
"Get to the lounge. Protect the President," he barked.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Within seconds, the hallway burst with the thunder of bodyguards. It was like a military parade had landed inside a five-star hotel.
"Assistant Shan, awaiting your orders," a bodyguard said, bowing so sharply I thought his pant might ripped-off.
"Someone in the penthouse dared to drug the President," Shan said, voice colder than my ex's heart. "Surround the room. No one leaves. I'll return after ensuring the President's condition is stable."
"At once, sir!" The guards sprinted off like a SWAT team with something to prove.
I mumbled, half-conscious, Knew I could trust Shan... dependable, terrifying Shan...
Then the heat hit me. My skin was on fire. My lungs were staging a coup. What the hell was in that drink? Jet fuel? Libido poison? Did I just get honey-trapped like a B-list spy?
"Don't worry, Mr. Moreaux," Shan said, guiding me into the elevator like I was some fragile Ming vase. "I've already issued the orders."
"Good," I choked out. "Get to the bottom of it. Who planned it, who paid for it—I want full names, photos, criminal records, horoscopes..."
"Understood," he said with a slight nod. "But first, we need to get you into the suite and call a doctor."
Yes. A doctor. Or a priest. Or maybe a witch doctor...at this point I almost lost consciousness!
---
"Mr. Moreaux, we're in the room," Shan announced as he gently laid me down on the bed.
Everything felt stiff—bed, pillows, air. I winced, breathing unevenly. The drug coursing through my veins made my skin hypersensitive, and my thoughts foggy.
"Shan… this bed feels like a wooden board. Is the doctor on their way?" I asked, panting.
"I'll call him again, sir," Shan replied. With that, he stepped out of the room.
The silence that followed was heavy.
A second later, the door creaked open.
Too fast.
"Shan?" I called, but the only response was footsteps—light, cautious.
The lights had been dimmed earlier to help me rest, so I couldn't see much. Still, I felt the presence of someone entering. I sat up, dizzy, and called again, louder this time. "Shan?!"
No reply.
I dragged myself off the bed, wobbling forward. And then—someone touched me.
A hand slipped gently under my arm, circling to my back. Small, soft, warm.
That's a girl's hand.
Footsteps echoed outside the room- thud, thud, thud.
"Please… help me," came a shaky, feminine voice. "I—I was drugged. They're looking for me… I don't know where else to go. please, I'm begging you…"
"Where the hell did that bitch go?" the voice snapped harshly.
"Must've been in this room," another voice said mockingly as he reached for the doorknob and then suddenly felt silent like no-one was ever there.
I froze. My brain lagged behind, trying to connect dots that refused to line up. Her body pressed against mine. I was too weak to push her away. Her arms wrapped tighter, as if I were her only lifeline.
Her voice. That voice. It tickled something in my memory. Like déjà vu dipped in lavender.
"…Dr. Arno Theryn Solace?" I said, squinting into the dark.
"Yes…" she whispered back. "Have we met before?"
My heart raced.
Without wasting a second I walked to the door to locked it and then turned back to her, lifting her into my arms like a desire lust. My body was on the edge barely holding the rising heat inside, control slipping—but it was more than lust and something more deeper kept me cautious.
I switched on the bedside lamp, shielding her from its brightness. My arms didn't want to let go."Look at me." "Do you know me?" I said, searching her face.
Without a word, I gently removed the mask I wore.
"Do you recognize me?"
She blinked slowly, as if trying to clear a fog from her vision. And then she smiled—a smile of disbelief, relief, and something else I couldn't name. then tilted her head. "You… you're that crying tomato, right?"
I choked. "How much aphrodisiac did you take to hallucinate a tomato?"
She giggled faintly, like someone not fully in control of her senses. Despite everything, that nickname somehow stung and flattered me all at once.
Trying to remain the responsible man I swore to be—even in someone else's body—I carried her to the bathtub and sat her inside. Trying to gather my thoughts, "You need to rest. You need to cool down," I said turning the cold water on, hoping to lessen the drug's effect.
But my own "effect" wasn't fading.
Then—knocking.
"Mr. Moreaux?" Shan called from outside. "The doctor is on his way. Are you alright? Did you locked the door? I'm sorry It took me a while, I had a few things came up. But don't worry. I took care of it. Mr. Moreaux?" Shan voice is soft but laced with concern.
"I'm okay," I called out, keeping my voice steady. "Just tired. Don't disturb me."
A pause. Then: "Alright, sir. If you need anything, I'll be right outside."
"Okay."
As soon as I put the phone down, I felt wet arms wrap around me again. Her body pressed against mine, water dripping sexily down her skin like a smooth river flow.
"Don't you want to feel me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, teasing and warm, her breath rubbed against my neck.
I inhaled sharply. My robe stuck to my skin, and my self-control was breaking down, second by second.
I grabbed her wrists gently. "Look… I'm a man. Don't push me beyond my limits."
Her eyes sparkled, almost daring me. "I want you," she murmured, lips close to my lips.
I didn't give her answer right away. Her presence, her aroma, her caress—they were too real. Too much. But also, somehow, not enough. I wanted more.
"I want you badly," I said softly with strong need. "But… I'm afraid I'll hurt you."
You won't, she replied softly.
Her breath warmed the shell of it, sending a ripple of heat down my neck. I held her waist, and our faces nearly touched. My breathing grew heavy.
"Will you regret this?" I asked her, voice hoarse.
She shook her head. "No. Don't worry… I'll take responsibility."
She said it like some dramatic heroine from a billionaire Chinese drama. And I—pathetically—was the trembling male lead.
She leaned in and pressed her lips to mine.
I halted her with a finger. "Wait."
"What now?" she said impatiently.
"What if you forget?" I asked. "I'm a pure bachelor. Untouched. Pristine. My virginity is still factory sealed."
She stared into my eyes. "I won't forget."
With that, she kissed me again. This time, I didn't stop her. Her lips trailed from my neck, down to my chest. My breathing was erratic. Every part of me was asking for release, to get relief and to see the satisfaction on her face.
With a panting, I pulled her to the bed intensely and placed her beneath me.
Her hands wandered from my back to my hair, then down again. I slid her bra off, slow and unsure, but driven by desire. Her robe slipped away like silk in water.
"So… this is what a woman's warmth feels like," I murmured to myself.
She hold my neck pulling me down, pressing hard to her bare soft body
"Give it to me," I'm feeling horny, she said it clinging to the last thread of control.
I leaned over her, our face inches from each-other juicy lips. "Will you regret this?"
"No," she whispered again.
Outside, the night was quiet.
Inside, everything was on fire.
---