2: The Storm

"Life is full of surprises, and one of them is finding the one for you, most unexpectedly."

_Unknown_

Makris Andino's POV

I glanced at my wristwatch. Again.

Where am I?

My eyes widened in shock, looking around at the elegant room surrounded by white and brown. The paint on the wall was all white with brown furniture.

This is a hotel. And it's not my room. Why am I even here?

My brain started to process how I got to the hotel. I was drinking downstairs with Ajax and Christos. We celebrated our success of gaining a vast contracted deal with the Alas Werke shipping company from Germany. Ajax received a call from his soon-to-be bride, while Christos's mama called him too. They left even without waiting for the hookers we hired online.

They left, knowing that I had already booked three rooms for comfort and an appointment for hookers to come to entertain us.

A few minutes later, I stumbled into a bright room and found a lovely lady with Emerald eyes. She wore Silky emerald nightwear, and her brown hair was in a loose bun. She looked intoxicated, and the first thing that came to my mind was that she was the hooker I had hired.

But they were three. I booked for three. Why is there one here?

But sincerely, she doesn't look like one. I watch her eyes scan me from head to toe then she looks deeply into my eyes.

"Hello, " she smiled at me. The trail of an Italian accent was evident in her voice.

Her voice was warm, and at the same time- Moisturizer- held a string into my ribcage. She has the tiny voice of an Italian opera singer.

But then again. Beauty looks sternly at me as if she recognized me from somewhere, which I clarify as–force.

A few minutes later, I kept quiet, not replying to her. I just scanned through her body figure from her sitting position. She seated like royalty. Imperial born. Beauty crossed her slim shiny legs with Elegances, with her palm- knotted together on the edge of her struck knee.

I slowly stare at her eyes and watch her stare back through mine. I sit down closer to her with my face plain. Beauty's lips looked small but pulp, a dark peach color. Her eyelid is so damn long. Her eyebrow is so thick and dark and also well caved.

I smiled at her and watched her blink numerously as if to clear her eyes.  She reeks of alcohol. Why would beauty intoxicate herself? Is she sad?

"Hello, " I replied with a smiling gesture.

She whiffs. She moved her head a bit, knowing that I reeked too of alcohol. She furrows her confused eyebrows at me.

"Why are you here? In my room?" her voice sounds so inactive, so sluggish.

Her accent sounds so warm and relaxing. She sounds like a baby who hasn't yet sucked from her mother's fine breast.

"I'm lost!" I voiced out with a smirk.

"You can't afford me, so leave."

She sounds so authoritative. She sounds like a noble protocol. She sounds like my mother, who seeks much from her culture and tradition.

I couldn't help but speak. I didn't mind my accent, but still, yet, beauty's kind of -aggressive- and I like feisty so damn much. I like my woman to be innocent yet antagonistic and contentious.

"Babygirl. Let me tell you." I smirk. "There is not a single brand I can't afford," I grimaced.

She was gaining grace, seeing a trace of disgust on her face. Unexpectedly. She smiled. I looked confused at her, not knowing what she was thinking.

"Great!" her tongue rolls once more in her accented English.

She suddenly holds my big cold hand on her tiny hand. Her hands are so soft and warm. I'm not going to lie. Immediately she held my hand. I felt a twitch in between my legs.

It was my manhood.  

It has been a long. It has been a long time since I got enticed by a specific woman. I am a fucking player, for righteousness' sake. I have arousal by merely looking into her sparkly eyes that were holding in evidence of many secrets. Dark and desirable.

"Emerald eyes!" I let out a whisper.

I don't know who this authoritarian woman is. But all I know is that I want her. I want to devour her every glowing skin, here and now.

I felt connected to her. I felt her power. The powerful effect she has just around her long slim fingers.

The way she looked at me held so much power. Powerful, she has so much dark, squelching, and aching desire. Without much thinking, she abruptly clashes her lip with mine.

Power. Beauty is giving adequate power.

My eyes immediately open wide. I felt all the strong muscles in my body melt. My manhood twitches even more, growing more extensive and complicated as beauty devours my lower lips.

Her lips are so tender and warm. Her breath reeks of alcohol, but her lips taste like champagne mixed with cherry. My brain cells instantly took off without much exhilaration. I grab her slender waist so tightly as I devour the moment.

I started kissing her back. I want more of her. I thought silently. Whosoever she is, she just dived into my world. I won't let her go because she tastes my fierce pride. She kissed the ego and pride that made everyone fears me. She kissed my principles out of me.

The lower moan that I was trying to hold still. Beauty, or should I call her emerald- She kissed it out. She was making me want more of her. Who is this woman?

No woman has ever made me moan out like this. I push her lightly to stare at her very well, not forgetting the face without much thinking. I rush her lips again. She slowly unbuttoned my blue linen sleeve.  I slowly fall down the tiny hand of her silky emerald nightwear.

I began to caress her body. She was warm, so soft. I mean very quiet. It felt like I was touching wool.

I catch my breath Without much exhilaration. Emerald pushed me back, and we both were breathing hard and panting for breath with sexy and tipsy eyes. She falls flat on the bed.

She drank too much. I tried to touch her, but I stopped. It wasn't manly of me to touch a woman who didn't permit me to touch her. I fall flat on the bed closer to her. After some minutes of watching her beautiful face, I dozed off too.

Many hours later. I jump up and glance at my wristwatch. Then all the memories of last night came running back to me.

Wasn't it a dream?

I turned quickly to the left side of the bed. Emerald was there. She looked so clean- her skin - so shiny as the ray of the sun reflected on her back, and her brown hair was over the white pillow. She was backing me. I couldn't see her face because of it. She has a little black mark on her left shoulder.

I slowly pick up my phone and take a picture of her back. I zoomed in to see what kind of mark it was. It looks like a birthmark. I didn't want to disrespect her; I didn't bother to wake her up. I got up slowly and gently into the bathroom to shower and wash away my liquor sweat.

After hours, I walk out of the bathroom with the white towel around my waist. With the other white towel, I wipe my hair dry with it.  My eyes landed on an empty bed.

She's gone. Is she gone?

I frown. I was looking around the room and checking from the window to see Emerald from downtown as she boarded a cab. Dammit.

I felt like a woman used me and dumped me. It makes me so frantic and so desperately angry.  No woman has ever treated me this way.

Abruptly,  my eyes landed on a pile of clean, untouched money. As a businessman, I calculated it by merely looking at it.

One Million Euros.

How the fuck did she, she has so much money. She looks like a low class, but her wording carries power.

Then again, my eyes landed on a small pink note with clean, caved writing. The handwriting looks so unique. It seems so well patterned. It seems so conspicuous. Furthermore, I read.

THIS IS FOR YOU. GOODBYE. WE SHALL NOT MEET AGAIN, NEVER IN THE FUTURE. STUPIDO.

"What?" I frown.

This act sounds so embarrassing, even though her writing and English sound patrician in reading it. She thinks I'm a whore. A male gigolo?

This is not even a pen. Beauty- emerald, didn't write this letter with a pen. It's more like a historical brush and crayon paint but still well-craved.

"Is this money for the night? Is this my charge for the night?" it makes me even more precarious than ever.

Stupido? Did she call me stupid?–Is this letter a provocation?

Good! Great. We shall not meet again, huh? I smirk. I understood full well that Emerald had just gotten herself into big trouble.

She dares to provoke my wrath! She dares to stimulate me–Makris Andino–You will come to me again. Whosoever you are. One way or the other.

Me? Makris Ardino. Stupido.