Chapter II. "First Encounter, First Clash." - 1

Kimberly.

"Friends for life!" I thought out loud. I couldn't believe that, after calling me at this hour only because her husband was making love to her, my best friend, Yvaine, had left me talking to myself on the phone.

After our phone call, she could hardly answer me because her new husband was keeping her busy.

The truth is, I was getting bored at the launch party. If Yvaine hadn't called, I would have left a long time ago. I don't understand product launch parties if they end up being just another way to harass the models.

She wouldn't have come if she hadn't been tipped off that my father might attend this type of event, nor would she have replaced Susan on her project today.

I decided to sneak out of the party via the stairs because they were the closest exit. As I talked to my friend, I gradually moved away from the noise so I could hear her better until I reached the service area. I knew there was an emergency staircase behind one of the doors there. But which one?

I wasn't keen on exploring; I preferred to face my fears head-on. Since I had a poor sense of direction, the only way to find the staircase was to open every door I came across.

The first two doors were unsuccessful: one led to a women's bathroom, and the other was a locked service closet. Logically, the men's bathroom door wasn't going to open, so there were only two possibilities left. I took a chance and, of course, lost.

The room I opened was an office where a man and a woman were currently kissing on the desk. The woman looked restless and was trying to untie the man's tie. They must have been engrossed because they didn't notice me. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I smiled and looked at them before closing the door again. I said, "Excuse me. Have a good night," and, without further ado, I closed the door and opened the other one.

I saw the stairs. I took off my high heels and began to descend the stairs, singing a song by my favorite singer.

"Some boys kiss me, some boys hug me. I think they're okay." If they don't give me proper credit...

I just walk away..." I was so engrossed in singing that I didn't realize someone was following me very quickly, practically taking the stairs two at a time.

I was almost at the eighteenth floor, two floors above my room, when I felt someone grab my wrist and pull me back. I lost my balance and crashed into someone or something hard. Someone had wrapped their arms around me, catching me and keeping me from falling to the floor. I carefully looked up and found myself staring into the most beautiful, cold, blue eyes I had ever seen. They were framed by an attractive man who was looking at me with a fierce expression, as if he wanted to kill me.

I tried to get up and pull away, but when he realized I was trying to let go, he tightened his grip and practically pinned me against the wall.

"May I ask what you're trying to do? Aren't you going to let me go?" I looked him in the eyes.

"Well, sweetheart, until you give me your phone so I can delete the photo you took of us, I'm not letting you go," he whispered close to my ear. I felt his breath on my ear; it almost made me shiver. I looked at him as if he were crazy, which he actually was.

Then I noticed the tie. Where had I seen that tie before? A flashback crossed my mind. I saw that same tie in a woman's hand while she and a man were kissing in an office.

My face must have revealed my discovery because he pushed me further against the wall, pressing his whole body against mine.

"What do you think you're doing? If your friend isn't satisfied, find someone else and leave me alone," I said, looking him in the eyes so he could see that his attitude didn't intimidate me. I needed him to move away from me so that I could unleash everything I had learned in my self-defense classes on him.

But apparently, I was out of luck because, by sticking to me, he left me very little room to move. He was suffocating me, and his lips were millimeters from mine. Unfortunately, an incomprehensible heat began to run through my body, and my voice broke with nerves.

"I see you recognize me. Now, sweetheart, I just need you to give me your phone so I can check that you haven't taken any photos."

“Why would I want to take a photo?” I... I got the wrong door.

It's not my fault. You didn't know how to do it, so get away from me. I'll give you my phone so you can check that I don't have any photos," I said, feeling my breathing slow down and an unfamiliar sensation take over parts of my body no one had ever touched before. For some strange reason, though, I wanted this man to touch me.

The mere thought of my body wanting to be touched by him made me even more nervous.

"Kimberly Peterson, either you control yourself, or I won't let any man touch you for the rest of your life," I said to myself, punishing myself.

I gave him my phone, which I was holding, even though he hadn't moved away yet. He pinned me against the wall with his arms and body and looked at my phone. Seeing that it was locked, he asked me for the password.

"It's password-protected with my fingerprint. I just have to put my finger on it to unlock it," I explained so he would let go of my hands, allowing me to unlock the phone. I thought this was an opportunity. It would make him move away from me, and I would be able to free my hands and kick him.

But my stalker was much smarter than that. He lifted my hand above my head, bringing his body closer to mine. He lifted my other hand with his arm while holding the phone, bringing my breasts into contact with his chest. I couldn't breathe; I could only smell his breath, which was millimeters from my face. When I thought he was going to kiss me, I closed my eyes as if I were hypnotized. At that moment, I felt my arms pinned above my head. He held my phone in one hand and looked at it with a smile.

"Why are you closing your eyes? What were you waiting for, beautiful?" He had unlocked his phone with my fingerprint. I was lost in his proximity, his breath, his gaze, how his body fit against mine, and finally, how my breasts had risen at the touch of his chest. I looked at him furiously.