In one pull, I’m in his lap, straddling him, my skirt riding high enough to bare the thin strip of lace I’d chosen this morning. His gaze drops, darkens, and I hear the sharp intake of his breath.
“Christ,” he mutters, voice thick as his thumb strokes the edge of the fabric at my hip. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
Heat floods me, my pulse hammering in my throat. Whatever barrier I thought I could keep between us? Shattered the second his mouth hovers near mine, his breath hot.
His mouth crashes onto mine in a hard, claiming kiss that makes me forget my own name. His tongue forces past my lips, rough and deep, and I moan into him as his hand slides higher, cupping my breast through the blouse. His thumb rolls over my nipple until it stiffens against the thin fabric, and I arch into his touch, shameless.
The other hand grips my ass, squeezing until I’m gasping, grinding helplessly against the thick ridge straining against his trousers.
The desk chair creaks under the rhythm of my hips pressing down on him, friction sparking between my soaked panties and his cock.
This is it—heat spiraling, pulse pounding—I’m seconds away from giving him everything.
And then?—
A sharp metallic bang echoes through the office.
I tear myself off his lap, breath ragged, yanking my skirt down like I’ve just been caught naked under a spotlight. My heart slams so hard it hurts.
Jon doesn’t flinch. He rises slowly, adjusting his belt and smoothing his shirt with an ease that screams control. “Stay,” he orders, voice low, before striding out into the hall.
I stand frozen, chest heaving, thoughts racing. What the hell am I doing? One kiss and I nearly burned my career to ash. If anyone saw—if anyone even suspected—it would look like I’m just another assistant sleeping her way into a title.
The seconds stretch like hours until he returns.
“Coast is clear,” Jon says, stepping back inside and shutting the door behind him. His mouth quirks with wicked amusement. “Just the automatic lock on the front doors.”
Relief crashes through me, and I press a hand to my chest. “God. That was too close.”
He crosses the space in two strides, hooks his arm around my shoulders, and drags me back into his heat. His lips brush mine again, teasing this time, demanding another surrender.
But I turn my face at the last second, breaking the spell. His brow arches sharply in curiosity. “Something wrong, Lizzy?”
No.Everythingis wrong. Because if it isn’t just the locks next time, if someone actually catches us… I’ll look like exactly what they’ll all whisper: the young girl clawing her way up on her back.
“Yes and no,” I finally say, eyes dropping to the desk instead of him. “I think… we should keep things professional. There’s too much on our plates—clients, meetings, deadlines. This… whatever this is… it’s a distraction.”
When I look back up, his face is unreadable—torn for a heartbeat, then shuttered. The smile he gives me feels too smooth, too quick, like a mask he’s had practice wearing.
“I agree,” he says, far too easily.
The words stab hard and for one second I want to take them back. It was my idea, but his ready agreement feels like rejection all the same. I force a smile, step past him, and pretend my chest isn’t aching. “It’s been a long day. I should head home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He doesn’t answer, just nods without looking at me, already gathering papers into neat stacks. I don’t wait for more. I flee before the silence swallows me whole.
Outside, the cold slaps me awake. I half run to my car, breath puffing in clouds, heart pounding with the memory of his mouth, his hands, the way I almost lost myself completely.
By the time I get home, I’m vibrating with it. I need Dani. I need to say it out loud before it eats me alive. “Dani?” I knock against her bedroom door, my voice a little desperate. “Are you up? I need you.”
The door swings open instantly, and I tumble inside, collapsing at the end of her bed. “Mega crisis,” I declare.
She slides back under the covers, hair wild, eyes curious. “Go on.”
“We got the new client list today.” My throat goes tight. “Jones Construction is on it.”
Her eyes widen. She doesn’t need me to explain—that’s my father, my brother, our whole family’s safety net. “Jon isplanning to buy it. If that happens, their jobs… gone. The house… gone. I don’t know what the hell to do.”
“Wait.” She props herself up on an elbow, a smirk tugging despite the seriousness. “Jon? We’re on a first-name basis now? What exactly happened today?”
