The Office Curve
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- Parts 44
Complete Fri, Dec 10, 20218h 59m
"Oh my God, Zara," he whispered, taking a good look at me. The insecurity managed to break through my amorousness. "I knew you were a beautiful woman, but damn, you're about to kill me with those curves."
"I..." I wrapped my arms around chest, feebly trying to shield myself from his stare. Shame churned within my stomach. "I-Is that a bad thing?"
"No, it's a very good thing." Gently, he pushes my arms away so I can't hide myself anymore. I sighed as his fingers drew little lines along the curves of my hips. "Almost makes we wish I was a race car driver so I could fully appreciate them."
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#119
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It should've ended with distance. A silence. A closed door. But instead, it began here-pressed against a balcony wall, with her breath caught between fear and temptation, and his eyes burning with something far more dangerous than lust. He didn't touch her. Not yet. But the threat of it lingered in the space between their bodies, in the way his chest nearly brushed hers every time he exhaled. She could feel the tension rippling off him, barely contained-like a storm pacing behind his ribcage, just waiting to destroy. "You shouldn't be here," he said, voice rough, low, and shaking with restraint. But he was the one who had cornered her. He was the one who couldn't stay away. And she? She hated how much she didn't want to run. Because this-whatever this was-felt like standing on the edge of something irreversible. "You're my employee," he snapped. As if the label could cage what was already unravelling inside him. "You're a mistake I keep choosing." Her eyes met his-furious, pained, exposed. "I never asked you to," she said, but her voice cracked around the lie. His hand lifted slowly, brushing the side of her jaw with a touch that contradicted everything his words said. Possessive. Tender. He stared at her like she was the very thing he was never meant to want-and the only thing he couldn't stop needing. "I've spent years building walls to stay in control," he muttered, his thumb grazing her lower lip. "You walk in and wreck all of it... without even trying." She swallowed hard. This wasn't love. This wasn't even hate. This was obsession-raw, electric, and utterly doomed. And as his lips hovered over hers, trembling with the weight of a thousand wrong intentions, they both knew- 🥀It started with a look. It spiraled with a touch. And before they could stop it, they were already each other's greatest undoing.
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He swiped my sweat-soaked hair off my neck, resting his lips against my ear. His fiery breaths blew across my earlobe. My body shuddered once again, craving more of him. "You're not the first woman to think she could seduce me into bed because of who I am, what I write. And you won't be the last." He gave a small chuckle, pulling down my dress, so it covered me. "But," he said in a low growl, "so far...... you're my favorite." Breaths poured from my lips at those words. My heart fluttered inside my pounding chest. His favorite, my brain stuck to his words like glue. Clinging to the small hope we'd continue this somewhere else, more than once. We stayed in that position for a moment before his body heat disappeared from my back. He lit a cigarette in front of me, the flash of the lighter illuminating his flushed, sweat-soaked face. I leaned against the brick wall, finding comfort in the coolness against my heated skin. His eyes met mine again. I didn't think I could move from the spot, but he forced me to when he held up a red, lacy thong in between his fingers. My red lacy thong. Fucking panty thief! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Their worlds collided in a heated, passion-filled hook-up behind a bar, bringing their broken pieces together. And now? Mercy finds herself as C.J. Cole's intern. The very Mr. Cole who wrote the most romantic, erotic books she had ever laid eyes on. How could she manage to keep her panties on around him? Or control herself? Hint: she won't. Mature warning.Complete![My Blue Orange [COMPLETED]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/130290889-256-k843217.jpg)
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It should've ended with distance. A silence. A closed door. But instead, it began here-pressed against a balcony wall, with her breath caught between fear and temptation, and his eyes burning with something far more dangerous than lust. He didn't touch her. Not yet. But the threat of it lingered in the space between their bodies, in the way his chest nearly brushed hers every time he exhaled. She could feel the tension rippling off him, barely contained-like a storm pacing behind his ribcage, just waiting to destroy. "You shouldn't be here," he said, voice rough, low, and shaking with restraint. But he was the one who had cornered her. He was the one who couldn't stay away. And she? She hated how much she didn't want to run. Because this-whatever this was-felt like standing on the edge of something irreversible. "You're my employee," he snapped. As if the label could cage what was already unravelling inside him. "You're a mistake I keep choosing." Her eyes met his-furious, pained, exposed. "I never asked you to," she said, but her voice cracked around the lie. His hand lifted slowly, brushing the side of her jaw with a touch that contradicted everything his words said. Possessive. Tender. He stared at her like she was the very thing he was never meant to want-and the only thing he couldn't stop needing. "I've spent years building walls to stay in control," he muttered, his thumb grazing her lower lip. "You walk in and wreck all of it... without even trying." She swallowed hard. This wasn't love. This wasn't even hate. This was obsession-raw, electric, and utterly doomed. And as his lips hovered over hers, trembling with the weight of a thousand wrong intentions, they both knew- 🥀It started with a look. It spiraled with a touch. And before they could stop it, they were already each other's greatest undoing.
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