📚 Title: After-Hours at Her Desk

Most nights, the office was empty by nine, the building humming with the ghosts of unfinished work and half-remembered promises. But tonight, she stayed behind, alone — or so she thought.

I watched her from the glass door, the light from her desk lamp cutting her silhouette into something I wasn’t supposed to crave. Her blouse half open, bra strap slipping off her shoulder like a secret begging to fall. She didn’t know I’d forgotten my keys. Or maybe she did.

I tapped once. She didn’t turn. I stepped in anyway. The air smelled like her — warm coffee, cheap perfume, and the electricity that buzzes between two people who shouldn’t touch.

“You’re working late,” I murmured. She didn’t flinch, didn’t lift her head. Just slid another file into a drawer she never locked.

“Couldn’t finish it at home,” she said, voice soft enough to crack something in me. “Too many distractions there.”

I stepped closer. Close enough to see the goosebumps on her neck, the shiver when my shadow covered her. She turned, eyes flicking up at me, dark, defiant. Her lips parted like she might ask me to leave — but her knees shifted apart instead.

I ran a finger along her collarbone, tracing the strap that begged to slip lower. She sucked in a breath when my thumb brushed her pulse.

“Here’s the thing,” I whispered, bending closer until my mouth grazed the shell of her ear. “I’m a distraction too.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Her hand reached for my belt, fumbling, needy, desperate for the tension to snap. I felt her sigh when I pinned her wrists to the desk, papers scattering to the floor like forgotten rules.

Her breath hitched as I kissed her throat — slow at first, tasting the sweat and sweet panic there. She pressed her hips forward, silently begging me to close the gap between everything we were pretending not to feel.

Outside, the city was asleep. Inside, the only thing awake was my mouth against her skin, her gasp echoing off the glass walls as I slid my hand up her thigh, pushing fabric aside like an apology I’d never say.

The clock kept ticking, but tonight, time was ours to waste.

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