The Office After Hours
The office was dark except for the faint glow of desk lamps and the hum of the city lights streaming through the tall glass windows. Everyone had gone home hours ago, but I stayed behind, finishing reports. Or at least, that was the excuse I gave myself. Because she was still here too. My colleague. My temptation. She was seated across the room, her blouse slightly unbuttoned, heels kicked off beneath her desk. The silence stretched between us, heavy with an energy that had nothing to do with work. When she stood to stretch, the soft fabric of her skirt rode up just enough to expose the curve of her thigh. My breath hitched. She noticed. “Still working?” she asked, her voice low, teasing. “Trying to,” I replied, leaning back in my chair. “But you’re making it difficult.” Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. She crossed the room, hips swaying with deliberate grace, and perched herself on the edge of my desk. The papers scattered, forgotten. “I think we deserve a break,” she whi...