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Contest starts November 18, 2019
Ends January 31, 2020
Open Internationally

Contest rules will be strictly implemented. Please read rules carefully and follow them, or your entry may be disqualified.

She turned to look at the driver, whose face was now also turned to her. And she saw the saddest, emptiest pair of eyes. . . again. 

"Magnet eyes," she thought to herself.

They stared at each other's eyes, his tight, firm grip still holding her right wrist. Blue eyes to gray clashed and locked, and everywhere became white as time seemed to stand still. A mesmerizing silence blanketed over the place and consumed their whole being, paralyzing them.

It was Mavis who moved first by licking her lips, her brows knitting in quiet wonder. 

His eyes followed the movement of her tongue as it swept through her upper lip. He sucked in his breath, and then, as if in a trance, he slowly, casually, pulled her to him. . . and kissed her.

Mavis watched, fascinated, as his face moved closer, closer, closer to hers. She saw how his pupils dilated and changed, from empty and sad to full of vibrant life, before he closed his lids and his mouth claimed hers. Then, following his example, she shut her eyes too.

The kiss. . . ah, the kiss took her to a journey across space. A space of white, bright, glittering lights, and she felt herself flying, floating, gliding, light as a feather but laden with something heavy, something inexplicable, burrowing straight to her core.  

At first, tentatively, lips and lips touched and tasted, licked each other. But then his tongue delved into her mouth, connected with her own, and the white lights became both blinding and dizzying. With a breathy moan, she opened her mouth wider, allowing him unrestricted entry, giving him full access. He pulled her closer, cradled the back of her head. She gripped his shirt in her fists, their bodies fused together as they kissed with wild, reckless abandon. They both explored and indulged, gave and took, sought and swept. It was long, and deep, arousing a myriad of sensations, taking them to a slow dance of twirling, swirling, spinning passion.

When it was finished—not because they wanted it to end, but because they were out of breath—they stared at each other, Mavis reveling at what just happened, the human confused and bewildered.

Drenched in sweat, Rome huffed and puffed as he pushed upwards and backwards, his feet flat on the platform of the gym’s leg press machine. This morning, he’d woken up with a monster of a headache from lack of sleep.

Last night’s short ride back to his condo had been silent but laden with underlying tension. As soon as he put his foot down on the brakes a few steps away from the convenience store, Alex had jumped out of the car without a word. He let her go, staying to making sure she had safely climbed in her Toyota and drove off before he restarted the engine. Then he went home to his empty condo, a far cry from the norm he’d found himself in on most nights: a willing girl to warm his bed conspicuously absent.

He told himself he was exhausted with the fiasco that nasty reporter played on him. But if he could be honest with himself, he needed to get his bearings. He couldn’t understand what was going on. He couldn’t understand what he was doing. Or, specifically, what Alex was doing to him.

It started when their eyes locked. Those magnificent pair took hold of his eyes—and the rest of his body—in a tight, unrelenting grip. A grip he wasn’t able, or wanted, to escape from. The jolts of electricity which invaded his senses were strange, uncanny, and intense—all at the same time. For someone who had mastered the art of detached existence among the living for the last four years, why, suddenly, did a horde of foreign feelings charge into him like a violent, out-of-control adrenaline spike, a far cry from the rush he gets every time he raced?

How did a pair of big, caramel eyes fringed by the longest lashes he’d ever seen do that? 

And the kiss. His mind had originally planned on kissing her senseless, ultimately leading her to the inevitable culmination of the night, as was his practice. But the second her mouth connected with his, he forgot everything. All he could think of was how soft her lips were, how utterly luscious. He was consumed with another plethora of confusing sensations, each infinitely different and perplexing from the last batch. He felt himself floating, light as a feather, lost in a joy like no other he’d ever experienced before. At the same time, several hard punches jabbed at his gut and twisted his insides in a sweet torment. The kiss was fleeting, the briefest and most atypical he’d done with a woman, but it deeply affected him a million times more than all the kisses he’d ever had, combined. 

How did a pair of pillowy lips with the most naturally perfect Cupid’s bow he’d ever seen do that? And why did it spark a hunger in him, the kind he never knew he possessed, the kind he never felt with all the other girls he’d been with? 

His mind floated back to her snide words before the kiss. It was clear there was a reason for her cynicism. Who could have been responsible for that? Who could have hurt her in the past? Whoever it was, he wanted to beat him to a pulp.

He blinked. He wanted to hit someone like himself? Someone who lived for casual sex and one-night stands, no strings attached, enjoying the ride while it lasted? In her own words, the ‘bang-and-bye’ type?

Weird.

There was one thing he was sure off. He was able to ruffle her feathers. What would he find underneath all those silky smooth, multi-colored layers? He wanted to believe it wasn’t one-sided. Her silence after the kiss more than proved she was also affected by it. She wasn’t able to come up with a spiteful comeback that was her trademark.

And therein lay the enigma. The paradox that was Alex. 

Before midnight last night, he had given in to the persistent voice in his head and picked up his phone. Gaia had graciously given him Alex’s number earlier. He had allowed his fingers to rule over him, tapping the keys like a madman, hitting Send before he changed his mind. 

I’ll be at my condo’s gym tomorrow at nine o’clock. If you still want your job.

She didn’t reply. He spent the entire night tossing and turning in his bed, blaming those magnificent eyes and those luscious lips that seemed to pop up everywhere, even with his eyes closed. 

Presently, a glance at the digital clock on the gym’s wall showed the time as quarter past nine. So far, he’d fired up the treadmill, lifted barbells more than he normally did, and just about tried every darn exercise machine in there. He’d exceeded his usual routine of thirty minutes of exercise. He told himself he needed to stay in shape. Not because he was waiting for his smart-mouth PA to show up.

All of a sudden, a well-endowed girl wearing the most revealing workout clothes stepped in his line of vision, smiling provocatively at him, batting her fake eyelashes. She was holding a bottle of water, which he knew was a prelude to her seduction of him. How many times had he taken up similar offers and ended up tangled in silk sheets? This time, though, he stared uninterestedly as she swayed her hips and dipped her cleavage over him. She purred in his ears, asking if he would want to go to her place after his workout. Before he can politely decline her tasteless offer because she wasn’t the girl with the magnificent eyes and luscious lips who tormented him overnight, a shadow loomed between them. 

He found himself staring up at his tormentor—in the flesh.

“He can’t be disturbed, miss,” Alex spoke firmly, her hands on her hips as she narrowed her eyes on the girl. “Go away.”

The girl bristled at the imperious tone, opening her painted mouth to start a squabble, if not for Rome holding up his hand, whispering something to her ear. The girl straightened up, looked Alex up and down, and strode off, her nose in the air.

“What was that all about?” Alex demanded. “What did you say to her?”

He got up from the machine, grinning and overjoyed to see her. “I told her you’re always grumpy in the morning whenever I wasn’t able to meet your nightly requirement of ten rounds of mind-blowing sex.”

“You didn’t!” She gasped, her eyes widening in horror.

“I did, too. I believe she’s now a huge fan of your stamina. Ask her if you want,” he chuckled, noting her out-of-place office wear consisting of a pencil skirt and blue silk blouse ensemble and a matching messy bun. Much, much more captivating than the girl who had just left.

“I will most certainly ask her,” she snapped, stepping forward. Before she can take another step though, he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back, preventing the outbreak of World War III over a teeny weeny white lie.

“Another time, perhaps. I’m starving. Care for brunch? There’s a restaurant here serving the best-tasting food.”

She frowned. “But your sister said the lawyers will be coming this morning. We have to be at the office.”

“I rescheduled our meeting,” he shrugged. “After lunch.”

“Then why did you make me come here? I could’ve gone to the office to work.”

“You are working,” he quipped. “You’re my PA, remember?”

Pursing her lips, she grumbled, “Next you’d be telling me to do your laundry for you.”

“Not today. Laundry basket’s not full yet,” he retorted, stifling his smile. “Shall we? I haven’t had anything to eat since I woke up.” 

Before she can think of a reply to that, he walked past her. He almost laughed out loud when he heard her footsteps fall behind him. This day was going to be better, he realized. His own steps had a renewed vigor and enthusiasm, unlike the sluggishness which weighed him down when he woke up. Now, he was eagerly looking forward to the day ahead. Light on his feet, thrilled to the bone, with an ear-to-ear grin pasted on his face. 

Must be the weather. Yes, definitely the weather. Not the girl whose eyes and lips had been hounding him since last night.