LXII ||| February 14th of 2024, (7)

Penellaphe Giordano Prada's pov

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"Penellaphe,"

"Let me finish!" I said firmly.

He swallowed, "Alright."

"I won't excuse myself saying how much of a horrible day that had been for me, because it won't change the outcome. I also will not wonder about what I could have done differently, had I known you actually meant it, had I know the effort you put into making all of those things for me, as it will also not help in anything, we can't change what's done, and like your gorgeous mother said, the damage is done, the wound is scarred, and that now became a page in the book of your life that can't be rewritten.

"I'm feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed, not with you, not for something you did, but for myself, for hurting you in a way I wouldn't want to be wounded, not me, not anyone else. We've both been victims of those cunts of my year, but that can't be changed, and the core of the problem is about you and me. I hurt you, I broke your heart, I humiliated you, and I caused you emotional and moral pain, and I am sorry. And I understand the fact that you may hate me now.

"You must have been furious when you came to the interview and you met me there, and I'm sorry for not recognizing you, when you must have known it was me the second your eyes found me. Now I understand the grudge you have against me. In fact, had that happened to me in your place, I would never have been able to see the person again without wanting to reap them to pieces. And I certainly wouldn't be able to work for them."

"I don't hate you, Penellaphe," he said softly, painfully so.

"Why not? You have reasonable reasons to hate me, Apollo. More than most. I hurt you, I humiliated and,"

"I know what you did, I remember," he licked his lips.

"Then why not?"

"I don't want to tell you, I want you to learn it on your own."

I gasped, "I don't have time for this."

"I think you do," then he grabbed my butty and took a bite without any ceremony, then but it back in my plate, took my strawberry lemonade and sipped from the straw I was sipping from. "Mmmhm, did you make those?" He pointed to them, "They are delicious."

Swallowing hard, I felt my cheeks hot, "I did. And I don't share."

"Oh, but I do," he then opened the lunchbox he brought with him, took an steel recipient from it and a small bottle of my favorite bubbly wine, then he grabbed the little spoon he brought with him, opened the recipient with what looked to be some kind of dessert, tool a spoonful of it and leaned in, bringing the spoon to me, "come on," he opened his lips, motioning for me to do the same, and despite my best thoughts, I did it and he fed it to me. Because it's not intimate at all.

And when I tasted it, I covered my mouth with my hand, no short of gobsmacked by the flavors of it. It took me less than a second to realize he was feeding me tiramisu, a tiramisu so divine it brought me back from the time my nonna was making it to me, before the pandemic, before all of it came crashing down on me. It was so astonishing, that I felt teary.

"Hey, I… are you alright?" He asked.

But I couldn't say a thing, I just covered my face and kept chewing the tiramisu he just fed me with, "Did you… make this?" I whispered slowly and scared of my voice breaking and giving me up.

"Yes," Apollo said softly, "is it that bad?"

"Bad?" I looked up at him again. "It's not bad, at all. It's nostalgic."

"Please, don't cry. I don't know what to do when girls cry."

I grabbed the strawberry lemonade and sipped from the straw his lips had just touches mindlessly. "I'm not crying," I'm close, but not there.

"Your eyes are teary, Penellaphe, that's scary enough."

"I thought you weren't scared of me."

"And I'm not. I'm scared of your tears," he stated, then he took my tiramisu, the one I made, and with the spoon he had just fed me his, he took a spoonful of it and brought it up to his lips. Apollo closed his eyes, tasting it, and the moan that left his lips got me curling my toes and tightening my thighs together, "Bloody hell, this is divine. Who taught you this?"

My cheeks flushed, "Nonna. And you shouldn't be doing that."

He stared at me confused, "Doing what?"

"Eating from the same spoon, and drinking from the same straw as me, Apollo. Especially not today," I scoffed. "That's intimate."

A cheeky grin crossed his lips, "A kiss would be intimate, not this."

"So, you go around sharing saliva with strangers?"

"You are not a stranger, Penellaphe, and again, we ain't kissing."

"Stop bringing kisses up," I gasped, overwhelmed, my body hot.

"Why? Does it makes you crave for it too?"

Did he just say 'too'? "Don't do that, Apollo."

"Do what?" He played dumb.

"Don't tease me on this, Apollo, it's not fair."

"You were my first love and you broke my heart, I think it's fair."

Ouch. "Then stop. Is it some kind of revenge on me that you want?"

"No, Penellaphe, that's far from what I want from you."

Hah, "So, you do want something from me."

He leaned in, seeming more intimidating than he should, "Yes."

"And what do you want?"

"I want you, Penellaphe," he whispered.

Timothée. Timothée. Timothée. Think of Timothée. "You can't have it, I'm someone else's already," I snapped.

"And where is him now? You said you're single."

"I am single, but it doesn't mean my heart doesn't have an owner."

Apollo grinned, "Then give me your body."

"Excuse me? You're 5 years younger than me, Apollo!"

"And I'll do you better than most people older than us," he replied.

I swallowed, "I'm your boss."

"Technically, you are not my boss anymore. We're in a executive position, and all the chiefs of this branch of the company like us, work for the Chairman, who is your father as of right now. So, I don't work for you anymore, we technically work together for him," this bastard. "And I know you want me."

"I don't," I lied.

"Not even you believe that," he grinned. "We want each other, and that is why you're warning me. Probably because you're conflicted that your heart belongs to someone else, but your body is yearning for mine."

"You are being arrogant for someone so young, Apollo."

"I can back my shite up, Penellaphe," he countered.

"You won't be able to handle me."

"It's you that won't be able to handle me," he whispered.

Why doesn't he back out? Ugh. "We work together."

"Many people work in here and date each other, Penellaphe."

"I'm not going to date you," I gasped, shocked with his audacity.

"Another reason why working together won't be a problem. We can just satisfy each other for the night and keep it a secret from everyone. Do it while you're not dating yet. Don't get me wrong, I'm also emotionally involved with someone who is currently out of my reach, but not for so long, but I still want you physically, Penellaphe."

A part of me felt angry at that, "Is it that Artemis?"

He blinked, "What?"

"You said you're emotionally with someone, is it this Artemis?"

He stared at me as if I had grown a second head and then he burst out laughing, and I felt like as much of a bugger as he did back in the lift earlier today, and I stared at him, sickly enchanted by how his godly features lit up when he giggles like this, as if the smile was what was missing for him to be utter perfect. And when he stopped, seeing my confused face, he passed a hand over his hair in such a sensual way, it got me out of breath.

"Artemis is my sister," he said with a smile, his cheek dimples out for the game. "She lives out of London."

Oh God, he has a sister? How would I know that? "Oh."

Smiling mischievously, he stood up, and I felt suddenly small. Even more when he turned to me and walked around the table we're in, coming to sit down right next to me, but instead of sitting at my side, he sat on the side of the long seat, legs at each side, and in front of me. So close I could smell his warm spicy scent with notes of coffee and chocolate, that made me want to lean in and inhale him.

"What are you doing, Apollo?" I asked under my breath.

"Something I should have done before," then he grabbed me by my neck possessively with his left hand, surrounding his right arm around my waist and lifted me up like a doll, making me straddle his big lap, his body so big compared to mine that the second my burning bottom pressed over his lap, I felt his insane erection hard and pressing on me, and I felt something small and round on the top of his massiveness. "Tasting the dessert I've been craving for," as he said that, his eyes had gone pitch black, his voice deepened like the ocean, and his sweet breath caressed me, his words rumbling through my bones.

"Apollo, I," I breathed, trolleyed in him, but he didn't let me finish.

With a hand still keeping me in a chokehold and the other in my hips, he pressed his lips on mine and I lost all the control I've been bottling up, as I slammed mine back onto his, intensifying and deepening the kiss.