Vixen - a dark romance story

Chapter 43

Christopher Bang/ Bang Chan

Christopher sat behind his desk, the office bathed in the warm glow of desk lamps.
Several piles of paperwork and files lay scattered across the surface, and he scrutinized every page with a careful eye. Every so often, he let out a grunt of frustration or a sigh of exhaustion. Taking a moment to pause from the monotonous work, he massaged his temples, sensing the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes.

He slumped back in his chair, letting out a weary sigh. The meeting had been long, dull, and mostly unnecessary. The other members had been bickering and arguing, and he had been forced to play the mediator, trying to maintain order and productivity. And Ray wasn't even there, sent on some useless spying mission.

His temples were throbbing, a dull ache that intensified with every passing minute. He raked his fingers through his hair, and just then, a knock echoed through the room. He glanced up to find Ray standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he straightened up. "Come in."

She stepped into the office, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Christopher felt the tension in his muscles begin to dissipate as she approached. Just her presence had the power to soothe his frayed nerves and spark warmth within him. Leaning back in his chair, he let his gaze wander over her face, appreciating the familiarity of her features.

His Ray seemed awkward, almost as if she didn't know how to act around him anymore, which was surprising. Out of character even. Christopher remained silent, observing her actions that lacked their typical assurance. She hesitated a moment before she padded to him, circled the desk, and took a seat on his outstretched legs.

Christopher didn't move, utterly taken back by her unexpected display of affection. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, but soon after, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and centering her on his lap. The weight of her body felt reassuring against him, and he caught a whiff of her shampoo — a pleasant coconut scent that lingered in the air since she wore her hair curly today. Bonus, it was down.

His heart sped up, hammering against his ribcage. He glanced down at her, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. But she seemed content where she was, calm and at ease.

Tentatively, she reached out to wrap her hands around his neck and leaned into his chest.

Christopher tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering shut at her touch. He gulped, suddenly aware of dryness in his throat from being acutely attuned to her every movement—the subtle shifts of her body, the rhythm of her breath, and the steady thump of her heart.

He subtly adjusted in his seat and cleared his throat. "You're a little clingy today, my dear. I'm getting spoiled,"

He felt her hum in agreement, her breath warm against his neck. "What's with the nickname, Shakespeare?"

He chuckled at her retort, and placed his palm on her middle. "Just adding a little flair," he replied, feigning offense. "I can't help it if I'm a man of culture."

"Right,"

"You don't appreciate the finer things in life." he teased, "I'm starting to consider only talking to you in old English to improve your vocabulary since you can't seem to reply with a proper full sentence."

Ray snickered, "Oh, that would be so sexy."

He gave her a light swat on the backside, letting his hand linger a little longer than necessary.

"Watch your mouth, or I'll really start reciting poetry." he warned, trying to sound stern. "Women melt over this stuff."

She straightened up, lifting a brow. "Women? Speaking from experience, perhaps ?"