Three weeks later, the fear had transformed into something else entirely.
Aria sat at her desk at 8 PM, the office empty, her heart hammering against her ribs. The message had come at 6: Overtime. My office. Don't keep me waiting.
She'd waited deliberately. Let him stew. Let the hunger build. Now, she stood outside his door, her hand trembling on the knob.
"Enter." His voice was cold. She pushed inside, and the world narrowed to him.
Julian sat behind his desk, his posture impeccable, his eyes black with hunger. He wore his charcoal suit, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled to reveal forearms she wanted to feel pinning her down.
"Lock it," he said.
She obeyed. The click echoed.
"Come here."
Aria walked to his desk, her heels clicking, her dress clinging to every curve. She stopped
