CHAPTER THREE
Evander's POV.
"Kiss me."
Her voice echoes in my mind as she pulls me by tie, pressing her hot lips against mine in the most intoxicating kiss.
Her seductive fingers combing through my hair with precision, and moving around my chest creating tension within me.
I try to pull my head back but she pushes my head to her face, keeping my lips in hers…
"Evander!"
A husky tone disrupts my little daydream.
I blink back, leaning upright from my initial bent position as I realize where I am.
At my friend's office.
"Man, I should really stop thinking so hard about work," I chip in the lie before he gets to ask me.
Jeremy smirks as he hands me a glass of wine, "Glad you said it yourself. The only thing you should actively be thinking about is how to get fucked."
I scoff, "Man, shut up."
Jeremy–my best friend and one of the city's casanova–was planning a launch for his new product and he needed my help, as a branch of my company deals with event planning.
He has always been worried about my sex life since my wife's death, and he has never stopped trying to get me interested in women.
But I wasn't interested. Unlike him, I would rather channel my energy into making my business thrive than going to clubs every night to hit on a new stripper.
Regardless of his lifestyle, he was still a good friend, he always had my back and I was glad to have him.
"For how long are you going to stay celibate? Her death wasn't your fault Evan," Jeremy says, gulping down some wine.
"It could have been avoided, Jeremy. I shouldn't have persuaded her into having yacht sex and I-"
"So what? Are you in control of unforeseen circumstances?" Jeremy fires back, his black eyes darkening.
His face softens as he leans over his table, "Evan, Liora was an amazing woman. I know that. But there was nothing you could have done to have changed her fate."
My heart sinks with a fluid-like feeling, one that has me feeling like I'm suffocating.
"She died because of my stupid mistake. Stop trying to make it look like it was her fate." I point out, rising to my feet.
Jeremy also rises, his brows pulling together in annoyance, "Okay great, blame yourself. But don't come running to me when you develop prostate cancer after all that abstinence."
"Son of a bitch." I spat.
"Yeah whatever, at least I've seen more reasons to stay unmarried," He shrugs, pouring himself another glass.
This is the thing about Jeremy that pisses me off sometimes. He was careless with words at times, not knowing when to speak about certain things.
Overwhelmed by my feelings, I dash out of the office, slamming the door behind me.
My steps increase, as I brush past a troop of people heading towards his office.
Judging from the files in their hands, the nervous expressions and the brisk steps the people were taking, I figured that they were people seeking jobs at his company.
I've encountered one too many job seekers to not recognize their body language.
But that's the least of my problems, I hasten my steps with clenching jaws.
The walk to the driveway seems longer than usual, or maybe it's because I feel too angry at the moment.
I turn on my right, arriving at the driveway where the smell of tyres, gasoline and a worn out air-freshener mixed in the area.
I plop into my car, slamming my fist against the steering in a fit to calm my raging body.
My hands grab either side of my hair as the memory of the yacht incident comes to mind.
But amidst the awful memory were flashes of Nyx's face.
Her face disrupted the memory of Liora's death and what was supposed to end as a painful recall turned into a confused recall.
Why can't I get her out of my mind?
I may be abstaining from sex but she's far from the kind of woman to turn me on.
She's everything I despise–the tattoos, the revealing clothes, the piercings. None of it befits my type of woman.
I like my women, soft, elegant and modest. They should also be submissive and pleasing, not dominating and demanding like Nyx.
And even though she's a contrast to the kind of women I like, I can't get over the way she pulled me to her face.
It was just a kiss, so why was it so hard to get it out of my mind?!
Her scent was also wafting through my nostrils like she was around.
"Nah, I can't be losing my mind over an evil-looking woman!" I mutter, scrambling my pockets for my phone.
And that's when I realized that I had forgotten it in Jeremy's office.
I plopped out of the car, heading for his office in fast strides.
On reaching there, I noticed a "DO NOT DISTURB" placard hanging on his door.
"Tsk," I breathe in irritation.
Jeremy only has that sign on there when he's either drinking to stupor or…having a quickie.
Assuming it's the former as we were both having alcohol before I left, I reach for the door but then my mind stops me.
What if he's doing something else and I'm invading his privacy?
I shake my head at the thought, he couldn't possibly have gotten a girl in there that fast.
Holding that thought, I push the door open.
The scene I see has my jaws dropping.
Because why the fuck is the woman who's living rent free in my mind giving my best friend a blow job?