Chapter 2 - There's just something (part 2)

"You have a beautiful voice." Lucas murmured, as if not wanting to disrupt that small delightful moment, however failing.

"T-Thanks ..." Samantha mumbled, blushing all over again, only now realizing she'd gone from humming to actually singing, for how softly.

"I mean it." He remarked with a smile, noticing her reddening cheeks. "It's nice to listen. Please, don't stop."

"But I ..."

"Please. Sing for me, Samantha, will you?" He closed his eyes, head against the wall, a gentle smile on his lips, one she could hardly say no to.

Her heart was running rampant, she'd never sung for anyone, it was just a small pleasure she gave herself now and then, nothing people could be interested in, she'd never had a public, and now ... she watched that kind smile, never leaving his lips, those shut eyes, as if he'd prepared to listen, abandoning himself to the sound of her voice ... the pressure of his expectations weighed her down, but she didn't want to disappoint him, he seemed so relaxed as he waited. Hence, taking a deep breath, she started:

There's a song that's inside in my soul

It's the one that I've tried

To write over and over again

I'm awake in the infinite cold

But you sing to me over and over and over again

So I lay my head back down

And I lift my hands and pray

To be only yours I pray

To be only yours

I know now you're my only hope

Lucas felt the smile better tug at his lips as that soft voice filled his ears as much as his heart. She sounded like a beautifully luring siren singing her love hymn to her sailor, like an angel chanting a liberating melody. He was quite sure he'd never heard such a beautiful voice as hers, better said, technically speaking there might have been better voices, but the way hers reached out straight for his heart? None. It was like being lulled in a beautifully melancholic melody that stole him from the mortal world.

He was so hopelessly lost in that melody that he didn't even notice when she ceased singing, better said, he did, but only because he felt thrown back into the actual dull world after being incredibly close to touching Heaven.

Samantha cleared her throat warily, afraid to ask if he'd enjoyed it. She remained there sitting, waiting for him to say anything, whether good or bad, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. She watched him coyly as he slowly opened his eyes, his lips parting to speak, but only an ecstatic breath came out, a marveled smile following. She didn't know whether it was a good sign or not, she wasn't used to people hearing her sing, possibly her father had heard, but he'd never uttered a word about it.

"You ... it was ... God, I don't even know how to define it." Lucas breathed out, words fuzzy as much as his mind and heart were. He turned to her, who lightly gulped, marveled at the sparkling light beaming in his ocean blue eyes, somewhat a sign that he was ... touched. "I said beautiful, but I didn't know what I was talking about. Your voice is more than beautiful, Samantha. You ... damnit, I'd sit here listening to you sing all my freaking life!"

She found herself giggling at his statement, for how embarrassed, sure that he was exaggerating. He probably just wanted to be kind, but it was nice of him nevertheless. Bowing her head, she cracked a small flustered smile, her cheeks flushed, as she once more mumbled a shy "thanks ..."

"You should be a singer. Why are you stuck here and not in some huge arena enflaming people's hearts?"

She shook her head, refusing the idea. "I've never wanted that."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "I just ... never considered it."

"Shyness?" He attempted.

She pressed her lips, uneasy. She'd never thought she could be a professional singer, she just liked singing to herself, she had since she was a child, what was there to wonder? She'd never had many ambitions, well, none at all, if she'd embarked in this precise work environment, it was only because it had seemed to be the most remunerative, it was a very simple matter of money, she'd never thought of a career in different terms.

Aside from money, she'd chosen that job because it gave her the chance to work solo, without needing to interact with anyone or not many people at once. Avoiding people, that had been a constant in her life. And for a good reason. Clearing her throat uneasily, nervous, Samantha took refuge back into her small cocoon, putting back up the wall she'd been inadvertently undoing brick by brick. "How long will it take before they come fetch us? It's been hours."

Lucas watched her changes in expressions carefully, a bit concerned. Had he touched a raw nerve? Maybe singing professionally had been a dream of hers, but she hadn't made it? Then again, accusing of shyness a shy person wasn't exactly delicate, was it? "I'm ... sorry if I pried. I didn't mean to upset you, Samantha."

"Y-You didn't." She inhaled deeply, deflating her shoulders as she fidgeted with her hands over her lap. "I'm just ... tired. It's been a long day, and ... we're still here." She braced herself, feeling weirdly cold even in the middle of July. "We've been blocked in here since hours, there's probably nobody left in the building, how will we get out?"

Perceiving her raising fear, he dared wrap an arm around her shoulders, bringing her face to his chest. "It's alright, we're gonna be out soon, I promise."

"I don't want to be stuck in this damn thing all night." She complained, slipping out of his grip, reinserting coldness into her voice.

"You won't. It'll be fine, don't worry."

"Don't talk to me like that."

He frowned. "Like what?"

She slyly slid a step or two far from him, in order to set back the distance between them, both physically and emotionally. It had been a huge mistake even only to let her guard slip. "Like I'm some child to sooth. I'm perfectly okay." She didn't want to be so aggressive, but it was necessary for her purpose.

"I was just trying to comfort you."

"No need." She spat.

Lucas sighed, turning his whole body to her. "Samantha, what is it with you? Why are you so afraid of people? Why do you fear so much getting close to someone else?"

"I don't." That was the sole immediate response she could find that wouldn't let her quivering voice give her away.

"You've been working for me since how long? Six months? And how many friends have you made? Not even one. You don't even talk to people, you're always keeping everybody at distance."

"I don't need friends, especially not in here."

"Instead you do. It would make it a lot easier for you to get through the workday."

"I like my job."

"So what? It might be hard to get through every single day on your own, even taking a break to grab a coffee with a colleague might help, but you never do. You just sit at that freaking desk all day long, stand up only once or twice, nothing ever distracts you."

"As my employer, shouldn't you be glad I'm productive?" She decided to ignore the fact that he watched her more than due, be it only for the sake of mental peace, the last thing she needed was to wonder why did her employer watch her so closely.

"I'd rather have you work less if that means you enjoy your freaking life, Samantha."

She sent him a dirty look, irked that he would command her like that. Who was he to judge? He knew nothing about her life, what she'd been through, what she did in her free time, he knew nothing, so what right did he have to pry? "I do enjoy my life, thank you very much."

He snorted. "Like hell you do. You work around the clock almost every day, you think I don't know that? You do the double of the overtime every other employee does, you're always the first one to get here in the morning and the last one to go. How can you enjoy life if you spend it all in this freaking office?"

"Maybe I'm just attached to the company and I want it to succeed."

"Ugh, don't bullshit me with the loyal employee crap, we both know you couldn't care less."

"Why? Have I given you reason to believe I don't care about my job? I'm always punctual and precise, aren't I? I thought you, as my employer, were satisfied of my efficiency."

He rolled his eyes, exhausted. "I don't fucking care about efficiency, Samantha!" He raised his voice, leaping to his feet. "I care about your wellbeing. You can't just live for your job."

"Look who's talking." She snorted, standing up as well.

"My case is different."

"Is it really? Just because you're in charge, doesn't mean you can let the company swallow your whole life."

There was a hint of truth in that, Lucas admitted to himself. However, as CEO, he didn't just have his own career and income to mind, he was responsible for hundreds of employees, he couldn't afford slipping up, that's why he worked so much: if he made a mistake, he would lose some money, but lots of families might be ruined, how could he rest well when conscious of that?

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine. I'll cut down my work hours if you do the same. I'll take better care of my private life if you do the same with yours." After all, dying of hard work wouldn't exactly pay off in terms of efficiency either.

She snorted, turning her head to the side. "I already do."

"No, you don't. Yours is not a life. Always so locked up in yourself, working from early morning to late night, how can you say you're living?"

She glared at him, annoyed that he would dare pry that much. "Until proven contrary, it is my life, not yours, and I'll live it how I want. I don't need some arrogant ass to tell me how to live." She snapped, raising her voice. What a douche, she thought, how could he take the right to pry in her life like that? What did he know about her? What did he know about her reasons to avoid people?

"Just because we screwed once, doesn't mean you know me, Lucas. Don't you dare tell me how to live my life, because you don't know a fucking shit about it!" Her own ribcage echoed with the booming sound of her voice as she spat out all that, she felt her legs and hands quivering, as they always did when she got so upset, it was a conditioned reflex, something about her nerves being too damaged.

Her breaths were labored as she paced the small cubicle, muttering indistinctive words in Italian as she hid her hands beneath her armpits, in order not to let him see how upset she truly was. Anxiety was one of her biggest issues, and when she felt cornered there was no breathing technique that worked, that's why she ought to prevent the damages before they came.

Lucas watched her for a few moments, wondering if he hadn't gone too far, after all, what saying did he have in her life? They barely knew each other, she was right, just because they'd hooked up once, that didn't mean he knew her. Even if he'd spent so much time watching her, that didn't mean he knew what happened in her 24 years of life.

Sighing, he took a step closer when it seemed like she was calming down a little, and he gripped her shoulders, causing her to flinch and stop. "I'm sorry." He admitted truthfully, turning her round in order to be able to look into her hazel eyes. "It was presumptuous of me, you're right, it's not my place to tell you how to live your life. But I do wish you would open up more, Samantha."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and accepted his apologies, however slipping out of his grip for the third time in one evening. He seemed too incline to touching for her liking, she'd given in once, she wouldn't again, it would be very stupid of her. Instead she went back to leaning against the wall, totally changing subject: "Why is it taking them so long?"

Lucas bit his lip, glancing at the buttons panel, then at his watch. It was midnight, they could hang in there a while longer, enough for him to, if not crack the nut, scratch it, to the very least. He went to stand on the portion of wall that was opposite to hers, mimicking her stance by crossing his arms, thought fixing his eyes on her, other than on the floor, as she was doing. "Are you only child?"

Samantha's eyes snapped to him as she was taken off guard. "What?"

He cracked a small sheepish smile. "You accused me of prying without knowing you, well, we've got time, I want to get to know you. So, are you only child?"

Her lips parted, and she frowned, only to then move her eyes back to the floor. "We don't have to necessarily talk."

"No, but I want to."

She looked up once more, marveled. "Why?"

He smiled lightly. "Didn't I just tell you?"

"But ..."

"We might be stuck in here till morning."

"Oh, don't say that!"1

"What?"

"I don't want to die suffocated in this freaking elevator with you."

He chuckled, unable to keep it. "Well, thanks for the appreciation." She rolled her eyes, not amused, therefore Lucas switched strategy: "Okay, let's say ... we don't have to necessarily talk, but talking might keep your mind off of the fact that you might remain stuck here all night. Better?"

Samantha gave him a dirty look, however having to admit he was partly right. She had no intention of sharing any personal details, though. Actually, she didn't have the slightest intention of daring to step onto that uneven ground that was socializing with her employer.

It wasn't even about conflict of interests, it was more about him potentially being trouble. Like anybody, but more than a common person. Hence, she slipped out her phone, cursing herself for not having thought about it. "Maybe if we call 911 it'll be easier."

This nut was definitely tougher to crack, Lucas thought. He sighed, taking out his phone as well, relieved when she complained about hers being dead, he gaped at his, and pretended to be just as annoyed at not seeing any signal. "Looks like you're definitely stuck in here with this arrogant ass."

Samantha shot daggers at him. "Shouldn't you be annoyed as well? Don't you have things to do?"

He chuckled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Like what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, Mr. Enjoy Life, don't you have parties to go to, people to see?"

Lucas smirked, liking this banter. "Looks like we've got a bit of a sass queen here, huh?"

Sarcasm was a great defense against people, Samantha would have argued, but she retained herself, just cracked a small smirk, shrugging.

"No, I have nothing to do tonight, and even if I had, it's long gone, considering it's midnight."

"Midnight?"

"Yes, milady, midnight. We've been here since four hours already."

"Why the hell is it taking them so long?!" Samantha groaned, exasperated, throwing her hands in the air.

Lucas bit his lips, guilty, and finally admitted: "Well ... I may have not pressed the alarm button at all, maybe that's why nobody's coming."

Her eyes widened in surprise and outrage. "You what?!" She hissed. "Why the hell didn't you?!" Because he didn't answer, she let out all the frustrations she'd been keeping at bay for being stuck in a secluded place all night. "Unbelievable!" She barked, pacing the small cubicle. "First you claim the right to teach me how to live my own life, then I find out you've been keeping me hostage! Should I think the elevator was never broken? Did you block it yourself?"

"Of course I didn't."

"Then why didn't you alert the maintenance people? Why did you force me to spend the whole freaking night stuck in here with you?!" Normally she would be more careful around a male being, especially in such a small room, but she was too furious to watch her tongue.

Lucas held back his answer. It might have sounded insane, and the last thing he needed was for her to think that he was some psychotic stalker obsessed with her. He hadn't really thought it through, he'd just acted upon instinct ... it had seemed the only way to get to know her a tad bit better.

She was always so elusive, he'd thought that being forced in a secluded space together might have helped to discover something more about that enigmatic beauty that had been crowding his thoughts for so long. Thinking back, it really seemed a psychotic strategy to use. He wouldn't blame her if she started doubting of his mental sanity, was she to know.

That's why he didn't answer to her question, neither did he respond to any accuses she sent his way, even while surprised at how quickly she could switch from impassive to coy to aggressive.

It was when she'd started using Italian to let out her anger, that Lucas finally cut in: "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! It was very stupid and egoistic of me, alright, I'm sorry."

Samantha shot him daggers, not at all content with a simple 'sorry'. Who did he think he was? Ugh, for once that she'd considered trusting someone. She quit pacing the room, but remained cross, going to lean against the wall, eyes on the floor, lips stubbornly sealed until they left that elevator.

"Are you going to pout all night?" Lucas asked, sarcastic, as he stood in front of her, only a few inches away, gaining a dirty look.

"Call. The freaking. Maintenance." Was all she hissed.2

"What if I don't want to?"1

She looked up at him, furious. Normally she would be more careful and reserved in her emotions, but be it the secluded space, be it that she felt weirdly at ease around him, she didn't really have troubles snapping. "Why on earth wouldn't you want to?"

Lucas bit his lips, his eyes travelling to hers, desire clouding his mind all over again. She was too mad to do that, he'd certainly get slapped ... well, nothing to lose, right? Without answering, he leaned in, and pressed his lips on hers, softly, as if testing waters, then, after a long second gone without her reaction, he moved closer, daring to cup her cheeks as he pressed his own frame against hers, for how gently, deepening the kiss enough for her lips to part inadvertently.

She wasn't agreeing, she was just too dumbfounded to react. While he kissed her, despite the whole mix of sensations, Samantha kept wondering why weren't her defense alarms going off, why was she petrified? And why was he kissing her like that, for no reason? Unless he wanted more ...

Suddenly aware of the immediate danger, Samantha pushed him off, for how reluctantly. "What is your problem?" She complained bitterly and harshly, to hide the fact that she was only rejecting him out of pure self preservation instinct. Maybe she might have wanted a repeat of last week, but it would have been a horrible idea.

Lucas sighed, a bit hurt by the rejection, and raked a hand through short sandy blonde hair. "What is my problem?" He spat mockingly, with a sarcastic laugh. "What is my problem, you ask?" He started pacing the small cubicle. "You are my problem, Samantha. Only you."

He laughed hysterically, circling the room. "First you barge into my life, gripping my mind tightly, then you steal my sleep, and now you ask me what is my problem? You are my only problem. You!" Lucas froze in front of her, staring straight into her hazel eyes. "You're driving me insane, can't you see that?"

"I ... did nothing ..." She argued meekly, marveled and confused, blinking her eyes repeatedly.

"You sure?" He stood only a few inches apart, ocean blue eyes fixated on her hazels, making her quite a bit uncomfortable even without realizing. When he raised a hand to caress her cheek once again, she flinched, but didn't oppose resistance. "Have you really moved on, Samantha? From what we had? Have you really forgotten the night we spent together?"

"I ..."

"Because I haven't." Lucas cupped her cheeks, reason having long abandoned him. It was give or take, no time to be diplomatic, they'd been blocked in that elevator for hours and nothing had come out, it was time to step on gas. "I haven't forgotten a single minute of that night, and I've been craving to do a repeat, if I gotta be honest." He pressed his frame against hers, making her yelp the slightest, even though she did nothing to slip out of his grip this time. "You drive me nuts, Samantha." He admitted, leaning in, this time more slowly. "I just ... need to feel you." He pecked her lips softly. "Touch you." 2

His hands slipped from her cheeks, down alongside her soft curves, stopping at her sensuous hips, gripping them tightly enough for her to yelp once more. "Have you." He concluded, crashing his lips against hers as much as their hipbones crashed against each other, this time more hungrily and feverishly.

After an entire week of feverish daydreams and repressed memories, this precise moment felt too heavenly to be true. To hell with understanding why did this particular female being attracted him this much, drove him insane like this, it was time to act.

Samantha, from her part, for how taken off guard, reciprocated the kiss, even while remaining completely frozen in her spot, without moving a single muscle, except for those needed to kiss, of course.

It was when she felt his warm fingers slide along her white shirt, searching for the buttons, that she woke from that trance. Not even the time to undo a couple of buttons that she was already pushing him off once again, shaking her head in rejection. "It would be a very stupid idea", she confirmed vocally, redoing the buttons. "Just ... call the maintenance, we'll get out of here and ... all will be forgotten".

All will be forgotten. That phrase was starting to get on his nerves. All will be forgotten. She had a compelling need to forget about him and their night, about every single sensation they shared ... it should be the same for him, but it wasn't.

She drew him in like no other woman ever had. It wasn't about the actual skills, it was more about the feels, the emotions that the very simple act of sex with her gave him, it was about the sensations, the ones he'd never felt before with any woman, which was weird per se, but, Lucas realized, it didn't matter the reason, what mattered the most was being able to feel them again.

"Why is it so vital for you to forget about us?" He asked, a little bitterly, hurt in pride actually, standing only a few inches away from her, as if silently underlying that he wasn't backing down.

Samantha crossed her arms over her chest, as if to mark the distance between their bodies, even if he seemed willing to shorten it. "Isn't it clear why?"

"To me no."

She rolled her eyes unconsciously. "Your name is Lucas Grant, right? CEO of Grant Enterprises, one of the richest men in America, golden bachelor and blah, blah, blah."

He frowned, not seeing what was the necessity of pointing out his status.

She pointed at herself. "I am Samantha Benedetti. Italian immigrant who obtained the green card to reside in the United States of America only thanks to the job at Grant Enterprises. That makes me guess what? Your employee, Mr. Grant. And last I checked, employers aren't supposed to hook up with employees, not even when they remain stuck in a stupid elevator for hours and find themselves horny as fuck."

Lucas was hardly able not to let slip a small smirk at her sass as much as at the last line. "Having sex with your employer won't get you expelled from the US, Ms. Benedetti, don't worry."

She rolled her eyes. "Getting sacked because of it will, Mr. Grant."

He arched an eyebrow at her, a little offended. "You think I'd be such a bastard?"

Samantha sighed, exasperated. He didn't get it, did he? "Conflict. Of. Interest." She spelled.

He rolled his eyes instead. "It's just sex, Samantha. I'm not proposing."

"Didn't you have some strict rule about bedding your employees?"1

"That was before."1

She frowned, gazing up at him, who stood freakishly close, but pointing it out would be awkward, so she kept it, it was already enough awkward to be having such conversation with her employer, truth be told, Samantha wasn't sure how did he succeed in pulling out of her so many words, while Sean, her neighbor, had been trying since six months now, yet he'd only been receiving monosyllables or short sentences, everybody else just got silence. "Before what?"

Lucas neared, leaving barely an inch between them, which she noticed, and that did set off all of her alarms this time, however it was always hard to resist to that pull. So many hours spent locked up in an elevator with him, it was a miracle she hadn't already given in, Samantha thought consciously, she ought to hang on, no matter what seductive tricks he pulled. He didn't need seductive tricks to have her budge, though. His ocean blue eyes piercing through her hazels were enough for her to cave. That's why she avoided eye contact as much as possible, repeating to herself that she only ought to resist a little more.

"Before one employee started invading her employer's dreams." Lucas admitted.2

She gulped inaudibly, eyes stubbornly fixated on a specific pattern of his blue button-down shirt, hands slipping further beneath her armpits, in order to conceal the anxiety levels that were raising. She wondered how could she be so "normal" last week, yet now all of her issues were so easy to bust, but then blamed the long hours blocked in that elevator, for which she had to guilt the same guy that was now having those anxiety levels skyrocket with his closeness. Samantha wasn't comfortable with people invading her personal space, it was already odd that she hadn't freaked out last week.

She nearly screeched when Lucas placed his arms on either sides of her, literally blocking her against the wall, their bodies practically glued to each other, his voice a mere sensual whisper as he, lowering his lips to her ears, confirmed: "It was before I started desiring nothing more than to have you, Samantha." She felt Goosebumps all over her skin as he left a small lascivious kiss behind her ear. "It was before you started being my most compelling desire."

"It's ... w-we can't." She attempted, already feeling every fiber of her power of will start vacillating. What the heck was it with him? What on earth did he do her? To be able to erase her every reasoning cell without a single effort? Why did he own such power over her? Why did she feel so drawn to him? Was it just the looks? She'd seen handsome men before, he might have been beyond the average, but not enough to have her go haywire, right? She could fight it, she had to fight it, there was no other chance.

"Why not?"

"I ... told you why." She bit her lips not to moan as he nibbled on her neck, his hands working skillfully to open her shirt after having undone all the buttons without her realizing.1

"Do you want me, Samantha?" Despite being generally easygoing and a typical nice guy, Lucas Grant did know how to be sneakily seductive, and because desperate times call for desperate methods, he wasn't beyond exhausting his every seduction skills in order to get what he craved and needed. "Last week might have been only an appetizer, baby." He bit on her earlobe at the same time as his hand slid over her silky legs, from calves to thighs, underneath the skirt, causing a raucous moan to escape her sealed lips. "Just one more night, Sam. Only one more night."

One more night, she repeated to herself. One more night. Would it be such a sin? "Then all will be forgotten?" She bargained in a whisper while he was too busy letting his lips trail from her neck to her cleavage, causing him to smile lightly at her stubbornness. Lucas would never forget, by now he was sure of that, however if a white lie was the price, for once he wasn't that reluctant, he would see to fix the details later.

Hopefully, night by night, that enticing yet inexplicably guarded creature would use up all the power she held over him, and maybe he could restart resting properly without her taunting curves and mesmerizing eyes pervading his dreams.

Little did he know that, soon enough, she would start pervading more than just his dreams. Little did she know that, no detail of those moments would ever be forgotten, on the contrary, it would change her life for good.2