"Lock the door," she whispered.
Elias hesitated only for a second before twisting the key. The faint click echoed through the quiet office. Outside, the city slept; inside, fluorescent lights hummed softly above them, casting a pale glow over desks, scattered files, and the woman leaning against his.
"Do you even realize what you're doing?" he murmured, voice low, breath shallow.
"Of course I do." Her lips curved into a daring smile as she loosened the silk tie around his neck. "You've been pretending all week that you don't want this."
She was his boss. Technically. The woman who sat across from him every morning in perfect control, crisp suits, calm voice, every detail of the company running under her sharp gaze. But tonight she wasn't the same woman who signed contracts. Tonight, she was fire.
Elias swallowed hard. "Someone might come in."
"It's past midnight," she whispered, brushing her thumb over his jaw. "Everyone's gone… except us."
He exhaled a shaky breath as she backed him against the filing cabinet. The cold metal pressed through his shirt, grounding him for a fleeting moment before her mouth met his. It wasn't gentle. It was months of restraint, of boardroom glances and polite distance, shattering at once.
Her fingers slipped under his collar, dragging it open. Buttons popped. His hand found her waist, felt the tremor beneath her skin. She gasped when he gripped her tighter, pulling her flush against him.
"You started this," he said against her neck.
"I know." She tilted her head, breath quickening. "Now finish it."
The office smelled faintly of ink and perfume. Papers fluttered to the floor as he lifted her onto the desk. A laugh escaped her, soft and breathless, swallowed quickly by another kiss that deepened until reason scattered.
Somewhere between stolen moans and whispered names, her hand found his wrist and guided him lower. His heartbeat thundered. She bit her lip to stifle a sound that could have echoed through the entire building.
"Elias…" she breathed, his name rolling off her tongue like a confession.
He froze for half a second, hearing it like that, hearing her like that, then he gave in completely. The desk creaked beneath them, their rhythm syncing with every uneven heartbeat. Time dissolved; all that existed was the heat between them, the reckless need that had simmered far too long.
When silence finally returned, she sat back, hair mussed, blouse askew, lips swollen. The confident boss was gone; in her place was someone raw and human, chest rising fast, eyes wide.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You know this changes everything."
Her smile was small but certain. "Good."
The word hung in the air, part promise, part threat. She reached for her blazer, half-laughing when she couldn't find it under the mess they'd made. "You'll come in early tomorrow," she said, voice finding its edge again. "We have… reports to finish."
He caught her wrist gently. "And if someone asks why we're both here after midnight?"
She leaned close, her whisper brushing his ear. "We'll tell them the truth."
"What truth?"
"That you finally learned how to take orders properly."
Her laughter followed him long after she left the room, lingering like perfume, faint, warm, impossible to forget. The office was quiet again, except for the rhythmic hum of the fluorescent lights and the uneven beat of Elias's heart.
He stood there for a while, shirt half-open, tie hanging loose around his neck, staring at the closed door she'd just walked through. The scent of her still clung to him, jasmine and something darker, sharper, like defiance.
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a rough breath. What the hell just happened?
His desk looked like a crime scene, scattered papers, overturned pens, her lipstick-stained coffee mug lying on its side. He smiled, a little disbelieving. He'd imagined this before, more times than he could admit, but the reality had been far more dangerous, far more consuming.
He picked up her mug, turning it in his hands. The lipstick mark caught the light, dark red, perfect. He traced it with his thumb before setting it down gently, as if it were something sacred.
Then he noticed something else. Her blazer still draped over his chair.
He hesitated, then reached for it. The fabric was soft beneath his fingers, still warm. When he lifted it to hang it properly, something slipped from the pocket, a card. Not a business one. Her hotel keycard.
Elias froze.
For a moment, he thought it was an accident. Then he remembered the way she'd looked at him before leaving, that half-smile, knowing, deliberate.
His pulse quickened again.
He shouldn't. He knew that. This was already too much, too risky, too reckless. But the card lay there on his palm, taunting him, daring him to cross another line.
He turned it over, reading the embossed hotel name. Just three blocks away.
His mind replayed the night in flashes, her hands, her voice, her whispered command: Lock the door.
Elias didn't even realize he'd made a decision until he was already at the elevator, jacket slung over one arm, tie still undone.
The city outside was almost silent at that hour, neon lights reflecting on wet pavement. He moved quickly, his thoughts tangled between fear and desire.
By the time he reached the hotel, it was past one a.m. He hesitated in front of the door, keycard burning cold against his skin.
Then he slid it through.
The lock clicked open.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, scented faintly with her perfume. A single lamp glowed on the nightstand. She stood by the window, her silhouette framed by the city lights, her hair down now, falling in loose waves over her shoulders.
She didn't turn when he stepped in. "I wondered how long it would take you."
His voice came out low. "You left it on purpose."
"Maybe." Her reflection in the glass showed a small, dangerous smile. "Maybe I just wanted to see how brave you really are."
Elias closed the door behind him, his pulse thudding. "You already know I'm not smart enough to walk away."
"Good," she whispered, finally turning to face him. "Because I wasn't done with you."