***POV ISABELA***
What were the odds of me encountering that man again?
I swore I'd never see him again. I swore it was just a wild night, and I'd never lay eyes on the man responsible for the best orgasm of my life.
I couldn't quite remember all the details and didn't remember his face, but I remembered perfectly the emotions he made me feel...
I heard a throat clearing and snapped out of my thoughts, realizing I'd been staring at my interviewee for too long.
For the first time in my entire career, I didn't know what to do or how to start this interview while reminiscing about his mouth making me see stars...
Focus, Isabela. Focus!
I repeated that mantra in my head. I needed to be professional!
"Welcome, Noah," I said, gathering the courage to begin what I came here to do. "Thank you for agreeing to this interview," I added, smiling, trying to disguise how much his presence had shaken me.
"Thank you," he smiled, and by God, what a perfect smile that was!" If I knew you were going to interview me, I would have agreed sooner," he winked.
The girls in the studio almost swooned and even made silly sighs. On the other hand, I felt embarrassed. What if someone noticed that I knew him?
"Let's sit down to start," I said, pointing to the chairs behind us.
His eyes didn't leave mine for a moment; he seemed to see my soul with his intense gaze.
Thankfully, the interview went very well. I asked what was on the papers in front of us, and he always replied shortly and bluntly. I think he didn't like interviews.
"Well, Twitter is going crazy with this interview. Let's read what our viewers are saying there."
On the panel in front of us, some messages appeared, most of them from women asking if he was single if his heart belonged to someone, and saying how handsome he was.
"The viewers ask, and we deliver." I smiled. "The folks at home want to know, Noah, are you single? Does your heart belong to someone?" I asked, looking into his eyes. He held my gaze and took longer than expected to respond.
"I am single," he said without breaking our visual contact, running his tongue over his lips to moisten them. There was a great deal of tension between us.
"INTERVAL!" the director shouted, and soon the room was filled with voices and people walking back and forth. But we continued in the same way, staring at each other. He had something in his gaze that mesmerized me for a moment. The studio was crowded, but it felt like there were only the two of us there.
"Do you want to touch up your makeup, Isa?" Mayara asked, approaching me. Reluctantly, I looked away to face her.
“No. Is the air conditioning on?" I asked, feeling an unusual heat and fanning myself with the papers nearby.
"It is," she said, looking at me with a puzzled expression. "You're hot. I'll ask them to put a fan next to you."
I nodded gratefully.
"Small world, isn't it?" he said, starting a conversation. I tried not to look at him to avoid falling under his spell again. He remembers last night; it's obvious.
"Can we forget that happened?" I spoke softly, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to us.
"Why?" he wanted to know. "Are you afraid someone will find out we spent last night together?
He spoke in a normal tone, but to me, it felt like he had shouted and someone had heard. I turned my face towards him, staring at him.
The cheeky guy was sitting casually in the chair with a stupid grin on his lips.
"What's the big deal, Isa? Every woman would do anything to go out with me and would want everyone to know it..."
"I'm not just any woman," I said through gritted teeth.
"And I know that just as I know..." he sighed.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"WE'LL BE BACK IN 5 MINUTES!" I heard the director shout. Damn it, I wanted to hear his response...
(…)
I practically ran through the studio corridors to get to my dressing room as quickly as possible.
I sighed in relief as soon as I opened the door, stepping inside and closing it behind me.
I quickly took off my dress and put on my white robe, which had my name embroidered on the back. I sat down in front of my vanity and began removing my makeup with a cotton pad.
I heard the door open, but I was in no mood to talk to Mayara right now, so I ignored her presence and continued removing my makeup.
I stood up from the chair, and when I turned around, I was startled. I stifled a scream and put my hands on my chest.
"Do you want to kill me?" I asked, "Damn, that scared me." I cursed.
Noah was leaning against the door, watching me. His crossed arms emphasized the muscles of his strong arms even more.
His eyes didn't leave my neckline, and I quickly remembered that I was just in a robe with nothing underneath.
"What do you want?" I asked, awkwardly hugging my body under his gaze.
"I want a replay," he said, as direct as ever.
"A replay?" I asked, confused.
“Yes. I want to repeat last night."
I chuckled ironically.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but that won't be possible," I said, becoming serious.
“Why?" Of course, he would want to know.
"That night was a mistake."
"A very enjoyable mistake," he interrupted.
“Do you know how old I am?" I asked. He shrugged as if he didn't care about that. “But I do! I'm 35 years old, ten years older than you."
"And why does that matter?" he questioned, slowly uncrossing his arms and starting to walk towards me without taking his eyes off mine. "They're just numbers to me, and I don't care about that at all."
"I do care..." I grumbled. "Why are you insisting on this? Don't you have the woman you want whenever you want?" I crossed my arms.
He came close—too close, I would say. He raised his right hand and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“I don't understand your resistance when you told me yesterday that you had just divorced, meaning you're single. I'm not asking you to marry me or propose a relationship; I just wanted to repeat last night," he paused, taking a deep breath. "I've been with many women, Isa, but I've never had such intense sex as last night."
I felt my face heat up. I'm 10 years older than him, and I blush like a teenager. What's wrong with me?
"I'm sorry, but nothing more will happen," I said, pulling away from his touch. Where he touched, it felt like fire.
He sighed and nodded, turning to leave.
"If you change your mind, I'll be waiting," he said with a mischievous smile.
It was obvious that I wouldn't change my mind.
My phone rang, snapping me out of my reverie. I picked it up from my vanity, and my daughter Isis's name appeared on the screen. I smiled as I answered.
"Daughter!" I put the phone on speaker and sat down on the small couch there.
"Mom!" she shouted excitedly. "I was watching your interview with Noah; oh my God, Mom, tell him about me!"
Oh, no...
“Mom, I'm in love with that man!” she shouted.
I felt a slight discomfort at her words.
“Isis, you're not old enough to say and think such things!” I said it in a rude voice. “You're still a child.”
“I'm a teenager, Mom. What kind of childish talk is that? I'm already 15!” She said angrily.
“Okay, teenager. I don't know Noah; I was just recruited to interview him at the last minute.”
“Tell me everything!" she shouted excitedly. "Is he better looking in person? What does he smell like? Oh my God, I can't believe my mother interviewed my crush!”
I took a deep breath to prepare myself psychologically to answer all my daughter's questions.