The office was too quiet, the kind of silence that made every sound carry—the ticking clock, the hum of laptops, the scratch of pens. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh and cold, but none of it mattered. Not when Ethan was leaning over the conference table beside me, dark hair falling into his eyes, close enough that his sleeve brushed my arm with every shift.
I gripped my red pen tighter, staring at the essays in front of me as if they could anchor me. They didn’t. Not when his knee nudged mine under the table, deliberate, electric. My c**k stirred immediately, traitorous.
“Distracted, Liam?” His voice was low, sharp, the same tone he used when dressing down a student—but turned on me, it felt filthy.
I swallowed, refusing to meet his eyes. “Just… reviewing essays.” My voice cra
