***---Garret---***
The neon glow of the city painted my office in soft jewel tones. Blues bled into pinks, gold traced the edges of the glass towers across the street, and my desk was washed in a light that made everything look softer than it felt.
The building had emptied hours ago. The only sounds left were the hum of the HVAC and the occasional thump of the cleaning crew a few floors down.
The board minutes stared up at me, black and white, columns and bullet points. Risk assessments, partnerships, shareholder optics. I read the same sentence twice and didn't take in a word. My pen was poised over the margin, waiting to make notes, but the ink hadn't touched paper in fifteen minutes.
Because the only thing I could focus on was the glow of my phone sitting inches away.
Velour.
One swipe and the app lit up again, pulling me in. The chat was still there, locked in, taunting me with the simplicity of it.
Crownless: Friday. 9.
Axiom: Friday. 9. Masks. Rules. Consent. Say yes when you mean it. Say stop when you need to. Wear what makes you feel dangerous.
Crownless: Noted.
That word had been living rent-free in my head all day. Noted. It was crisp, self-assured. The kind of response that told me she wasn't playing games. She read rules and accepted them, tucked them neatly into place. My cock had been hard for hours just thinking about it.
I leaned back in my chair and let the pen roll out of my hand. My body knew what I wanted even if my brain kept telling me I shouldn't. This wasn't supposed to be personal.
Velour was a client. A product. Due diligence meant trying it out before Bannen Media signed off on a very lucrative deal. That was the line I'd repeat to the board if anyone ever asked.
But nobody was asking.
The phone buzzed against the desk. A new message. Nathan. What on earth could he want at…I glanced at the time in the corner of my phone. Eleven-thirty. I really should go home. I tapped the notification.
Nathan: Don't back out Friday.
I rolled my eyes, thumb tapping a reply. If I had told him about setting up the hook-up, then he should know me well enough to know I'd see it through.
Me: Relax. I'm not.
Three dots flickered.
Nathan: Good. You need this.
I didn't bother answering. He wasn't wrong. That was the problem.
I set the phone down, stared at it, then picked it back up like a man with no control. Opened the chat again. Scanned the words I already knew by heart.
Noted. I could hear it in Harper's voice. That same sharp clip she used when she was making fun of the Events team for wanting fire dancers at the gala. That little huff of laughter that had slid out when I mentioned 'synergy'.
Even now, Harper Lane dominated my thoughts the same way I wanted to dominate her. I groaned and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes.
She'd gone home with everyone else, but she was still everywhere. My head was full of her. The way her eyes followed me through the lobby. That ass that didn't know when to quit. Hell, even the smell of her was imprinted on my brain. Vanilla. Sweet at first, but there was spice buried under it if you got close enough.
I told myself it was a coincidence. That the match I'd made on Velour, the one waiting for me Friday night, couldn't possibly be her. But every time I read the exchange, every time I saw Crownless on the screen, my head filled in Harper's mouth forming those words.
I looked down at the board minutes again, forcing myself to focus. "Vendor conflicts." I read under my breath. "Audits and compliance reports." I made a line in the margin just to see ink hit paper. It bled into nothing.
Another buzz from my phone. I didn't even think before I grabbed it. Nathan again.
Nathan: Bet you're grinning at your phone like a creep.
I smirked despite myself. He wasn't wrong. I didn't dignify it with a reply.
I tried again with the notes. Words blurred. All I could see was Harper, sliding her tablet under her arm, giving me that look like she was two seconds from telling me exactly what she thought of me, professionalism be damned. I pictured her in a mask instead, stepping into Room seven at Velour, body draped in something black or red, eyes challenging me to make good on every filthy thought I'd ever had.
Which, if I was being honest, was a lot of filth. Like the way her pretty lips would look wrapped around my cock as I plunged into the back of her throat. The way she'd swallow quickly, trying not to gag as I fucked her face.
Having her tied down, unable to move as I bit, licked, and sucked my way across her body, committing every detail to memory. Until she screamed and begged to come. And then I'd let her.
I groaned under my breath and raked a hand through my hair. This was exactly why I'd signed up in the first place.
Harper was a line I couldn't cross. Employees were off-limits. Always. Velour was supposed to be the outlet that kept me from doing something reckless. Crownless was a stranger who would never walk into my office the next morning and hand me board notes.
But my body didn't care about lines. My brain didn't care about rules. All I saw was Harper.
I picked up the phone one more time. Friday. Nine o'clock. Room seven.
Maybe I should've felt nervous. Instead, excitement ran hot and steady in my veins. For the first time in months, I was looking forward to something. Not a deal closing. Not a contract signed. Something simpler.
I pressed the screen off and leaned back in my chair, eyes falling to the empty reception desk visible through the doorway. Harper's absence made the office seem colder.
She was definitely home by now. Maybe she was looking at her own phone. Maybe she was staring at the same reservation I was.
My chest tightened at the thought. My cock twitched. I told myself to stop. To get up, to go home, to shove this out of my head.
I didn't move.
Friday couldn't come fast enough.