It was past midnight, and the quiet hum of the world outside the window seemed to sync with the soft tap of her fingers on the keyboard. Every word she wrote felt like a secret, locked between the lines. I couldn’t help but admire the way she weaved magic with her words – effortless, like a dance only she knew the steps to.
“Still writing, I see,” I messaged, leaning back in my chair, imagining the playful smirk that would be spreading across her lips as she read my text. It had become our nightly ritual—she’d write, and I’d watch from the sidelines, trying to match her rhythm.
Her reply came quickly:
"Why, jealous? You think you can keep up?"
Bold. But that’s her style.
I grinned at the screen, fingers hovering over the keys. She wanted to play, and I wasn’t one to back down.
"Keep up? Oh sweetheart, I’ve already lapped you twice." I hit send, knowing it would land exactly where I wanted. Just enough heat, just enough challenge.
Her response took a few seconds longer than usual, and I could almost hear her brain ticking through the words.
"Big talk. But I’m curious… Can you actually handle the pace I set?"
Double meaning, for sure. But that was our game.
I leaned in, eyes narrowing at the screen. It was a challenge I couldn’t resist.
"I’m more than capable of keeping up with any… pace you choose." My reply was deliberate, a bit more daring than before, but this is how we moved—always teetering on the edge, seeing who would fall first.
Typing dots appeared on the screen. Then disappeared. Then reappeared. This was a first. She never hesitated.
"Careful, you’re playing with fire, Chetan."
I chuckled to myself.
"Funny, I always thought you liked the heat."
There. I had said it. Pushed the line just a little bit further.
This time, her response was immediate, almost too quick to be anything other than premeditated.
"Maybe I do. But can you stand getting burned?"
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises, layered with meanings I was only beginning to unravel. The dance had shifted. Now it wasn’t just playful teasing—it was something more, something deeper. And I liked it.
I smirked, leaning back in my chair, fingers dancing over the keys again.
“I’ve got aloe on hand, just in case.”
A pause, and then I added,
"But I'd rather keep the fire burning."
**To Be Continued...**
YOU ARE READING
Me and My boss Lady
RomantizmIn the fast-paced world of corporate success, all I wanted was a steady job, a decent paycheck, and to stay out of trouble. But everything changed the day I crossed paths with her Amara Stone, the iron-willed, breathtakingly fierce CEO of the compan...
