the biggest of thank you's to everyshadedsilver who beta read this for me.
Summary
Annabeth Chase leads a simple life, one consumed by minimum wages and staying focused on paying the next bill. She's a 25 year old waitress only trying to take proper care of the younger brother she's fought tooth and nail for. But as much as she tries to convince herself otherwise, her current lifestyle of living paycheck-to-paycheck isn't cutting it for either of them.
Her good looks manage to ensnare the attention of the country's most eligible bachelor, who will do anything to lay claim to his inheritance. Dragged into a world of wealth and paparazzi that's far uglier than it appears, Annabeth finds herself drowning in the attention with no other lifeline than an attractive businessman that she can't help but be drawn to.
Ever-smirking and stoic, Perseus "Percy" Jackson is scarred from past betrayals, and emotional burns have left him cold. The press label him the King of All Cities, and it ironically turns out that he can't take over as CEO of Cacci Consolidated without a Queen by his side. Hounded by the pestilent expectations surrounding him on all sides, Percy finds himself drowning in the realities of his life with no other escape than the effortless class and beauty that embodies his hidden rose.
A fateful mishap regarding the wrong cup of coffee crosses their paths, and it seems that their respective prayers have been answered in the form of an engagement contract.
Percy and Annabeth's seductive entanglement is borderline lethal, for business should never mix with pleasure. And with a contract involved, just how much can the fine line between the two blur?
They say they have love, but love can sometimes be too meticulous for comfort. It's one of the greatest prices to be paid.
With conspiring enemies and dark secrets that haunt them both lurking behind every corner, will that price be too great?
THIS IS PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER. IT GOT TOO LONG SO I DECIDED TO SPLIT IT UP.
Part Two should be out soon :)
Warning: this chapter contains mild sexual content (no depictions of sex, but still sexual content)
If you would like to skip, i'll give the warning:
! ! !
in order to let you know when it's happening
Annabeth
.
The feeling of an indescribable headache alerts Annabeth of her surroundings before she can open her eyes when she awakes the next morning. She rakes a hand down her face and groans while rolling over on the plush mattress she lies on.
Grabbing a fistful of sheets, the waitress arches her back with a stretch and shudders. And then she realizes that the material of the silk duvet is far too expensive to be her own.
Where the hell am I, she wonders to herself.
Eyes flying open, Annabeth scans her surroundings to find that she's in an opulent bedroom. Velvet and silk shimmer beneath the glow of the faint sunlight streaming in through the sheer drapes that hang before the large windows.
With a start, she fears that she's missed work, but then the 25 year old remembers that it's finally the weekend. Slightly confused, her thoughts travel back to the events of the previous day.
Annabeth grunts, remembering her (probably foolish) agreement to sign a contract binding her to Perseus Jackson. She thinks back to the quick Internet search she had done on the man prior to falling asleep. Pulling out of her phone, the waitress bites her lip as she takes in the Google profile that's been built.
His words regarding the high profile quality that came with his last name were true. She scrolls past countless tweets, gossip articles, and Tumblr imagines, grimacing with each passing one.
His words were true. Meaning that she has unknowingly agreed to become the faux fiancée of America's most eligible bachelor. Annabeth scoffs at the headlines that refer to him as the King of All Cities.
More like the King of All Asswipes.
Her train of thought sparks at the keyword, and she remembers her accusations from the day before. Annabeth feels a heat climbing in her cheeks as the memory of Perseus's close proximity and his deep, intense gaze settling on her pushes to the front of her conscious thought. Her blush strengthens at the sounds of desire that had rumbled in his chest when their skin had made contact.
"I need a cold fucking shower." She mutters to herself, shutting her eyes as tight as possible in order to dispel the sensuous memory. The 25 year old swings her bare legs over the edge of the mattress and leans forward, pressing her feet against the glossy wood floor.
Her stomach gurgles, and with a wince does she remember the fact that in her bout of anger, she had stormed out of the dining room— leaving her dinner to go cold and practically untouched. Annabeth mumbles as she pushes into the bathroom. "And I need to eat."
She catches a glance of her reflection in the pristine mirror. Pausing, the waitress takes in the sight of her thick, bejeweled blonde waves and deep, iron-grey irises. Annabeth frowns at the realization that she has no memory of the night before after the mild altercation with Perseus had reached its height.
The young woman exhales, dragging her fingers across the skin of her wrist as she remembers his firm yet nimble grip on it. Her lips part slightly at the thought of his hand pressed into the column above her head, ensnaring her in his almost-embrace. Close enough to feel his body heat, close enough to-
Annabeth slams her hands into the counter and leans over it. "Stop," she warns her reflection. "Stop it."
Without another thought, she peels off her borrowed clothing, pulls her hair into a bun, and steps into the shower, leaving the stream to remain icy in the (futile) attempt to cool her skin and her thoughts.
The waitress tips her head back below the flow of water and flutters her eyes shut, reeling.
At this time the day before, she had stumbled upon her boss's younger sister passed out drunk on the bathroom floor, sleeping off a hangover. And now, here she is: bathing herself in the shower of a stranger's house, struggling to reign in the smoldering fire that is her attraction towards him.
True, Perseus might unsettle her in more ways than one, but her thoughts cannot seem to rid themselves of the way his head had tipped back, how his eyes had fluttered shut, how his lips had dropped open as he breathed out a low moan when her hand pressed against his firm abs-
"Stop it, Annabeth!" Her eyes fly open and her hand, tense as ever, presses against the shower wall. With a grimace, she shuts off the water and pulls a towel around her naked form. "This clearly isn't working."
She needs food.
The waitress pads back into her room and dries off. After rubbing in the scented lotion that Aleane had left for her the day before, she pulls on the same clothes as before. Annabeth tries not to be disgusted while doing so.
Stomach rumbling again, the twenty five year old ventures out of her bedroom and shuffles into the hallway. Immediately, her neck angles and her head turns to peer into the direction of Perseus's room. The closed, dark doors seem foreboding, and Annabeth forces herself to take a step towards the stairs.
She doesn't understand how and why she's so attracted to Perseus. Nothing like this has ever happened before. True, she cannot ignore his handsomeness, but she has seen a handful of attractive men in her life. And Perseus... for reasons unknown, is different.
As she descends to the first floor, the sounds of chatter and laughter gradually strengthen. Hoping for human interaction, Annabeth follows it. Soon enough, the young waitress finds herself entering the kitchen, where the house staff seem to be engaged with each other in full swing. Feeling out of place, she hovers by the door, taking in the sight of the servants eating together happily.
She spies Raisa and Aleane along the edge of the commotion by the wall, whispering to each other quietly and chuckling. The other staff hoot and holler in foreign languages, their cheeks rosy and their eyes bright.
Her feelings of misplacement grow.
All it takes is for one of the staff to see her. One by one, they notice her presence and the room gradually falls silent. They all turn to stare at her, some expressions fearful, others awed, others passive.
Annabeth balks under the sudden attention and takes a step backward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I was just-" Her body bumps into something hard. Immediately, she clamps her mouth shut, her body going rigid at the feel of it. The woman's chest heaves. Annabeth doesn't dare turn, but she doesn't have to.
She can recognize that body heat anywhere.
Perseus's hand comes to rest at the junction where her shoulder and neck meet. His warm fingers glide along her skin, trailing down her arm. "Good morning, mia bella." He leans over her to whisper into her ear. "Did you sleep well?" The vibration of his voice reverberates in her bones.
She nods, remembering that she has a part to play. "I-I did, thank you." Annabeth bites her tongue at her stutter and gives him a warm smile over her shoulder.
The Italian behind her nods and stands to full height, his body heat rolling over her in waves. He addresses the rest of the staff that stare at them lewdly. "Buongiorno a tutti." His ever-balanced words slip into his native tongue with ease.
"Buongiorno, signore." They respond to him in unison, their collective voices making Annabeth want to shrink back and hide somewhere. The way that they stare at her makes her uncomfortable, as if she's an intruder.
Almost sensing her discomfort, the businessman speaks a few more words in Italian. The staff resume their previous conversations, albeit slightly muted. Although she knows that they're still staring behind their raised glasses and studying her through their peripherals, Annabeth is grateful that their attention isn't as obvious as before.
Perseus turns to her, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Annabeth meets his burning gaze, and by the light that fills the kitchen, she sees that his irises have transcended again to a light gray. The waitress glances down at their conjoined hands for a moment and when she refocuses in his face she registers a flicker of amusement at the corner of his mouth.
Bloody hell, he's so fine.
"Have you eaten, Annabeth?" He cocks his head, his lips forming the question in such a seductive way-
Focus, Annabeth. But she finds that she can barely focus, not with his thumb drawing tantalizing circles on the back of her hand.
How long has it been since someone's touched her like this? Annabeth isn't sure, but she knows it's been too long.
Far too long.
Swallowing thickly, she gently pries her hand out of his feathery grasp. "What?"
Perseus's daunting smirk reappears, this time stronger. "Breakfast, bella rosa. Have you eaten any breakfast?" When he reaches forward, his hand skimming her arm again, she nearly melts into a puddle. When he takes a few strands of her golden hair between his fingers and twirls it, she nearly combusts.
It's a shame how attractive he can be when he isn't lying.
Forcing herself out of her probably-hormone-fueled daze, Annabeth shakes her head and clears her throat. "No, I haven't. I am hungry though."
He chuckles darkly, his irises burning a hole into her head. "As people usually are when they skip out on dinner."
She bites her tongue, refraining from spouting off a scalding response. Annabeth can't do that, not with so many eyes and ears around. Instead, she forces an airy laugh and turns back around. "Well, you aren't wrong."
The young woman tenses when he leans over her again, whispering in her ear. "Come to my office when you're done eating. We have much to talk about."
Annabeth opens her mouth, her eyes lightly furrowing. "Where-"
He doesn't let her finish, which she realizes is one of his more insufferable qualities. "Down the hall, last room on the left." Then Perseus stands again and presses his lips to the crown of her head. When he speaks, his voice seems to be gruffer than usual, and his Italian accent rears its head. "I'll see you soon, Annabeth."
The businessman slips into Russian, addressing Raisa and Aleane who still eat off to the side. The housekeepers perk up, alerted, at his words. As Perseus continues speaking, their eyes fall on Annabeth. When he finishes, they nod tightly and he grunts.
Perseus gives her arm a squeeze and exits the kitchen, leaving Annabeth at the mercy of his staff and leaving behind only slivers of his warmth in his wake. Her back suddenly feels so exposed and cold in his absence.
Again, the kitchen is plunged into silence. After what feels like forever spent staring at each other, Annabeth shifts her weight and forces herself to wave at the housekeepers and others that regard her with emptiness. "Um, hello," She murmurs.
Raisa stands, her abrupt movement causing the waitress's breath to catch in her throat. Annabeth stares as the kindly, Russian woman approaches her with a soft smile. As always, Raisa's words are inflected with an accent when she speaks. "You're hungry, Miss Chase." She states it, rather than asking it.
Annabeth bites her lower lip and nods. "Yes."
Raisa's smile widens a little and she motions for Annabeth to take a seat in the dining room. "Cook will make something to eat." Her ice blue irises fall on an older-than-middle-aged man who peers at Annabeth through honey-brown eyes and intrigue.
The waitress shakes her head. "It's okay, I can just snag a bowl of cereal or..." Annabeth trails off as she watches Raisa's eyes grow large.
The cook joins the conversation, his eyes slightly apprehensive. When he speaks, his Italian accent and soothing voice warms Annabeth to the bone, not unlike a mug of hot chocolate. "There will be no need for that, signora."
"I don't want to inconvenience anyone..." She rubs at the crook in her elbow, again uncomfortable with the sheer amount of eyes that are on her. Annabeth holds his warm gaze and coughs into a fist.
The cook releases a small smile and gently shakes his head, seemingly understanding what she's trying to say. "Doing my job is not an inconvenience. Certamente non per una donna bellissima come te."
The staff chuckles at the last part of his statement, spoken in a language she can't understand. Annabeth forces her thoughts from traveling to the worst case scenarios and decides to just let it be. Following Raisa's direction, she sinks into a seat in the dining room and tries not to think about the gentle chatter and laughter that resumes in her absence.
The smell of cooking food soon wafts out of the kitchen, and her stomach gurgles once more. Annabeth traces the glossy wood of the dining table, appreciating the architecture that obviously went into its design.
Her eyes lift as she studies the cozy dining room, her gaze flickering over the crimson and gold velvet drapes and mahogany furniture. Whoever designed the house had an obvious love for it all.
Negative thoughts break into her admiration. Just goes to show how wide the gap is between the poor and the rich. Images of her dingy apartment scatter across the forefront of her mind.
But before she can wallow in any more self hatred, Raisa's head pokes into the room. Annabeth turns to her, eyebrows lifted in slight surprise.
"Allergies?" The Russian woman gets straight to the point.
The corner of her mouth flickers upward in amusement and the waitress shakes her head. "No, I'm not allergic to any foods. Thank you, Raisa."
She bows her head a little. "Of course, Miss Chase." Then she disappears for a few more minutes.
Annabeth sags in her seat, pulling her knees to her chest as she trails her fingernails over the armrests. Her eyes flutter shut and she frowns to herself. "What are you doing here, Annabeth..." she murmurs.
Disappointment fills the cavity in her chest. She's practically selling herself-
"-Harley needs it." Her hand grips the armrest and her eyes fly open. The 25 year old grits her teeth, forcing the negativity from her mind as best as she can. "This has nothing to do with you."
But then the image of Perseus's intense gaze pushes to the center of her conscious, and for the life of her, she isn't able to determine the validity of her previous statement.
So when Raisa finally emerges from the kitchen with a heaping tray of food, Annabeth finds herself relieved and grateful for the distraction.
She needs it now, more than ever.
...
Down the hall, last room on the left.
Annabeth follows Perseus's earlier directions, her chest thumping in anticipation. Why does he want to speak with her? Her arm tingles in remembrance of his touch.
She frowns to herself, eyebrows pinching. "I really need to stop thinking about this."
The waitress finds herself outside of what she assumes to be his office. She stares at the door for a few seconds, her nerves refusing to let her move. Annabeth opens and closes her mouth, her tongue suddenly dry.
With a shaky hand, she lifts her fist and knocks on the hollow wood. Not a full three beats later, Perseus's voice echoes from the other side.
"Come in."
She twists the doorknob and steps into the room, her teeth sinking into the plush of her lower lip. Immediately upon entry, their eyes meet. Perseus scans her up and down without an ounce of emotion. He grunts, and gestures to the seats that lay before his massive desk.
The 25 year old obliges, shutting the door behind her, and moves to the seats. As she lowers herself into the armchair in the right, Annabeth takes note of his light gray button up and pressed slacks. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing tanned forearms and veins that line the skin between his wrist and elbow.
Perseus continues with his work, picking up a pen and scanning the documents that lie before him. He fiddles with it in his grasp, spinning it between his nimble fingers. Annabeth can't tear her gaze away from the sight of his muscles flexing with each move he makes.
Oh, dear Lord...
She clears her throat, drawing his attention away from his work. The 25 year old crosses her legs and clasps her hands over her lap. "So..." Annabeth trails off into the silence before raising an eyebrow. "Is there any reason why you wanted to see me?"
The Italian sitting across from her chuckles darkly. His fingers stop moving and he peers into her face. After a moment of staring, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Should there be a reason for a man to see his... girlfriend?"
The waitress tenses, pressing her legs closer together, but somehow manages to keep the reaction from showing on her face. "Yes," she speaks firmly. "When they've known each other for a day."
Perseus hums and sets the pen down completely. "You're right, Annabeth." Their eyes meet and he regards her for a moment. "However," the businessman pauses and leans slightly forward. "The house staff doesn't know that."
She frowns. "And why is that? Shouldn't they know?"
He shakes his head. "They're the first ones we have to convince. Speaking of which," Perseus studies her. "I think it's time we come up with a plausible story of how we met."
Annabeth cocks her head to the side a little. "For what reason?"
The Italian exhales with a bit of amusement lacing the breath. "You sure do enjoy asking questions." He leans back in his seat, balancing his elbows on the armrests of his swivel chair, interlacing his fingers in front of his chest. His deep green eyes narrow ever so slightly. "Is that so?"
The 25 year old folds her arms over her chest and mirrors the expression on his face. "It seems to be the only way I can ever get a straight answer from you, and that's only hardly." She shifts her weight before, "Now if you could answer my question, that'd be great."
Perseus stares at her passively for a few seconds before nodding. "The whole point of this relationship is to show my grandfather that I'm ready to receive my inheritance and take over as CEO of Atlantis Consolidated. In order to do that, our relationship will have to be very... public."
Annabeth stiffens at that, her heart racing at the thought . "How... public?"
He sighs, as if registering her apprehension. "I wouldn't be surprised if the photos from yesterday have already gone viral. It comes with being a Jackson. However, simple photos of us being out together won't be enough, Annabeth." Perseus meets her gaze. "We'll need more than that."
In her steadily growing bout of worry, she fails to realize that he refers to her by her name without provocation. Instead, the young waitress swallows and motions for him to continue. "Get on with it, Mr. Jackson."
"You'll have to be my girlfriend in every sense of the word, Annabeth." He pauses, mulling over his words before he amends his statement. "At least, publicly."
She nods, "I'm already aware of that. That's... that's expected, isn't it?" The 25 year old despises the way the conversation makes her stomach feel as if it's turning itself inside out.
Perseus makes a humming sound in the back of his throat and leans forward. His eyes trail over the contours of her face before he opens his mouth to respond. "I mean you'll have to attend with me galas, charities, auctions, a few meetings, some televised interviews, and other public appearances."
Her heart drops farther and farther into the pits of her gut as he continues.
The Italian across from her either doesn't notice her growing discomfort, or he chooses to ignore it. "Everyone will be viewing you as the future Mrs. Jackson. Our engagement will only solidify that." His accent begins to trickle into his words. "As such, you'll become the face of the company as much as I am. It's how it's always been done."
Annabeth can't bring herself to respond to that. Her frown tightens and her attention falls from his face to the cluttered top of his desk.
Will she be able to handle all of this?
The silence between them grows exponentially as she reels. Finally, after what feels like hours, she addresses him. "Why are you telling me this?
Perseus stares at her for a moment before he stands. She flinches from the abrupt movement but he pays it no mind. The businessman rounds the corner of his desk and takes a seat on the front edge of it, sitting right in front of her.
Annabeth inhales sharply at the intensity of the body heat that radiates from him in oscillations. She squirms slightly, further pressing her legs together and shifting her weight.
The Italian above her reaches forward, his fingers aiming to nudge beneath her chin before he drops his hand entirely. He grips the edge of the desk, and with a strained voice, "Look at me, Annabeth."
The waitress shifts her gaze upwards, her focus landing on the burning green irises that study her. She breathes out through pursed lips. "Answer my question, Perseus."
His expression is still cold when he cocks his head to the side. "You want to know why I'm telling you all of this?"
She nods.
Perseus makes a guttural noise at the back of his throat, the vibrations rumbling in his chest. Then he folds his arms over his torso, his biceps flexing beneath the strained fabric of his button up. "I want you to have a choice, Miss Chase."
"Pardon?" She can't keep the surprise from filtering over her words as she registers his statement. Of all the things she had been expecting him to say, that was certainly close to the bottom of the list— if it was on it at all, that is.
Perseus's large hands resume their earlier grip on the edge of his desk. The Italian leans forward, his stormy green irises swirling with her own. "I won't lie to you, Annabeth." His gaze falls to her lips before refocusing on her eyes. "This life of mine... isn't for the faint of heart. It isn't for those who crave privacy. Or for those who enjoy their sanity." His expression takes a dark turn. "I couldn't live with myself if I led you into this mess without showing you what it is in truth."
"Perseus...?" Annabeth opens her mouth to question him, but trails off when she registers the ominous glint in his eyes. But for some reason, she can realize that it isn't directed at her.
He continues, his Italian accent deepening. He doesn't look at her, instead staring a hole into an unknown object above her head. "Excluding my family, you're the first woman in years that I've been involved with in any capacity. The press will go crazy over it, and knowing my father... he'll take advantage of that."
Then his eyes descend to meet hers, and Perseus leans in, close enough to the point that she can catch the scent of his cologne. He balances himself by placing his hands on her armrests. "I'm telling you this because I want you to know what you're getting into, truly getting into, before you sign that contract." Perseus's hand lifts to grasp a few golden strands of her hair. He twirls it between his fingers for a moment, staring at it almost... appreciatively. "It's what you... deserve."
Trying to finally find her voice, Annabeth shifts again, crossing and uncrossing her legs. She doesn't fail to notice the way that his eyes follow the movement, nor does she fail to notice the way his irises brighten in hunger for a split moment before the emotion disappears altogether.
Their eyes meet.
Annabeth tries to dislike how he makes her feel like prey, but how long has it been since someone has desired her so... openly? Even when they both try to hide the burning attraction they have for each other.
The dam can only hold for so long before it shatters.
The young waitress clears her throat, unable to look away from the ensnaring tempestuous gaze that roots her in place. "And if I decide that I don't want to sign the contract?"
Perseus's expression softens for a fleeting moment. "I wouldn't blame you for it. However..." He trails off and reaches forward tentatively, and without thinking, her body scoots to the edge of her seat. The Italian nudges a few fingers beneath her chin.
Annabeth sinks her teeth into her lower lip out of habit, eliciting a light growl from him. She swallows as his thumb gently sweeps over her bottom lip.
Perseus draws their bodies closer with a heated gaze. "I can't say that I would be happy about your choice, mia bella," he whispers to her.
Her eyes flutter shut at the feel of his thumb dragging downwards, pulling on the plumpness of her lip before releasing it. His fingertips dance to the edge of her chin and she swallows.
"I'll have to think about it," she murmurs, knowing he can hear her.
"It's rude to not look at someone when you're speaking to them, you know." Perseus's fingers skim the shell of her ear.
Annabeth opens her eyes to meet his. Her heart skips a beat that the pure desire that burns in his stormy irises, blatant and unashamed. She pulls a smirk. "I learn from the best."
"Is that so?" Perseus chuckles, his hand moving to lift her head farther up, to the point where she's practically craning her neck.
The 25 year old's smirk widens, but doesn't respond forthrightly. She holds his gaze, trying desperately to ignore the fact that he has her wrapped around his finger like a tetherball entangled on a pole.
Tensed silence spins the short distance between them.
After a few moments, Annabeth stands, pushing off of her legs and clasping her hands in front of her. "Well, since we're done here-"
"-Who said I was done with you?" His tone and expression take a dark turn as he leans back, pupils dilating. Perseus reaches forward, his hand curving around to the small of her back. His palm flattens against it as he pulls her closer.
Reflexively, she lifts her hands only to find them pressed against his chest. The businessman before her releases a deep groan of approval at their contact, his eyes fluttering shut and his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
Annabeth swallows thickly as she registers the sight in front of her.
This is a dangerous game.
She knows it is.
But it's all so addictive.
She knows that too.
Perseus's eyes snap open and he tugs her against fully his chest. When he whispers against her ear, his tone is flush with arousal and strain. "Is this your attempt at finishing what you started last night?" His fingers curl around the ends of her golden hair.
Maybe she just imagines it, but she can swear that he tugs on them.
Her voice is somehow balanced when she answers. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Jackson."
She can feel the vibrations of his laugh beneath her palms. "I'm sure of that, bella rosa."
Annabeth's breath catches in her throat as she registers his lips move from the shell of her ear to the curve of her jaw, down to the column of her neck.
Perseus mutters something foreign into her skin. "Così fottutamente bella." His grip on the small of her back moves to the swell of her hips before tightening. "Come sei così perfetto?" He pulls away to stare in the face, frowning a little.
She swallows. "What?"
His frown wavers slightly, giving way to the tiniest of smiles as he scans her up and down. "Never mind." The Italian tilts his head, meeting her gaze. "It was a rhetorical question anyway."
The waitress nods. "Um, I-"
She's interrupted by a knock at the door.
Perseus literally growls in annoyance, anger filtering in the greens of his irises. His fingers loosen around her waistline a little, so Annabeth takes that as her cue to return to her seat.
! ! !
But the businessman cocks an eyebrow at her when he feels her movement. The lights overhead hit his eyes, churning the emerald shade of his irises to a startling grey. "And where are you going?"
Her eyebrows pinch, her gaze falling to her seat before returning to his face. "You've got company-"
Perseus spins her around in his grasp so her ass presses against his thighs, his chest molding with the curve of her spine. His long fingers grip her hips tighter than before. When his whisper hits her ear, heat rises in her face. "And why the fuck does that matter?"
Bloody hell.
Annabeth can't bring herself to respond, instead settling for shutting her eyes a little.
Perseus moves her hair, pushing it from her shoulder to the other before his lips trail to her neck. "Tell me to let you go, bella rosa. I'll do it."
She opens her mouth to do so, but the words die in her throat, refusing to come out. More than anything, her body wants this.
And deep, deep down, where her innermost secrets lie, she knows she wants this too.
It's one of the rare opportunities that refuse to be missed.
He chuckles darkly at her silence. The Italian curves his right arm around the front of her stomach, tugging her closer to his body. "I thought so."
The knock sounds again.
"You seem pretty confident in yourself." She relishes the feel of the heat that rolls off of him. It's been too long since she's engaged in such close proximity. She's forgotten how intoxicating it can be.
"You would be too if you were me." Perseus gives her one final tug, Annabeth let's out a slight yelp as she finds herself basically seated in his lap. The evidence of his arousal presses against her. "If you had someone as... perfect as you are, sitting on your lap."
"Perseus..." she hates how breathless her tone is. She hates how it tells him just how much he affects her.
"Yes, mia bella?" He drags his fingers up and down the surface of her thighs before shifting back to her hips.
"Th-the-" Annabeth stutters as he begins to roll his hips, groaning lowly into her ear. "The door. There's s-someone at-"
As if on cue, the knock sounds again.
Perseus's breath hits the back of her neck. His scent fills her nostrils as he pulls her against him, her head falling to his shoulder. "They can wait." His Italian accent strengthens even more, if possible. "They can fucking wait."
She shifts by reflex, wholly unprepared for the sheer depth of the groan that reaches her ears when she does so.
Perseus's grip on her hips tighten. "Cazzo," he breathes. "Se solo tu sapessi cosa mi fai."
Annabeth presses her legs together. "I don't think we should be doing this."
Despite how good it all feels, something feels wrong.
Taboo.
"Tell me to let you go, and I'll do it." His hands trail up and down her sides. "I will." But other than that, he makes no move to address her words.
Annabeth inhales sharply when his hand delves between her knees.
"Say it, Annabeth."
His fingertips begin to trace patterns along the fabric of the leggings covering her inner thighs, gradually inching closer and closer to-
! ! !
Her voice shakes ever so slightly. "Perseus, let me go."
He hums in response, his chest rumbling against her spine for a few moments before he slowly detangles his limbs from hers. Perseus gently lifts her off his lap, displaying only a fraction of his strength, and allows her to stand on her own two feet.
Again, her backside feels cold and exposed from the immense lack of warmth that his absence leaves. Annabeth releases a shattered breath as she walks back to her seat, attempting to get comfortable in spite of her arousal.
She ignores Perseus's intense stare as she does so. The waitress is all too aware of how he watches her fidget and squirm.
The Italian exhales sharply before standing and returning to his swivel chair behind the desk. When the knock on the door sounds again, he's ready.
"Entra e fai in fretta." He calls out. Already all evidence of previous desire and attraction is wiped from his face, leaving only the cold, blank slate of an expression that Annabeth's come to recognize as his and his alone.
As the perpetrator enters, Annabeth finds herself struggling to catch her breath. Perseus angrily begins to speak with the newcomer in a language she's yet to hear spill from his lips, but the memory of his chest pressed against her backside is too consuming for her to fully dwell on the situation at hand to begin with.
More than anything, the young waitress wonders to herself just what she got herself into when she agreed to the contract engagement with the Italian billionaire that sits across from her.
Is this survivable?
.
Author's Note-
Again, part two should be out soon!
Y'all, I think I might change the rating for this to M cuz idk if all this sexual tension/innuendos is allowed for the T rating
Should I change the rating for safety? (I don't plan on including any smut in this, FYI)
Tell me what yall think. And thanks again for sticking around this long!
YALL: I JUST WROTE A NEW IN-CHAPTER SUMMARY AND IM SO PROUD OF IT, PLEASE CHECK IT OUT
love, April!