chapter twenty five: Burning desires

Andrew’s POV

The morning light felt too bright for the kind of thoughts in my head. I’d been up since dawn, pretending to go through emails, pretending not to think about her lips. Every time I blinked, I saw Lily — flushed, breathless, trembling in my arms.

She’d come into work like nothing happened, her hair curling softly around her face, that new cut brushing her shoulders. A cruel kind of beauty — one that made a man forget what rules were for.

I tried to focus on the report in front of me. Numbers. Contracts. Deadlines. But all I saw was the faint pink tint on her lips when she bit them — the same lips I’d kissed. The taste still lingered, sweet and dangerous.

“Mr. Sterling?”

Daniel’s voice broke my thoughts. He was standing by my office door, smiling like an idiot. “The quarterly files are ready. Lily’s going through them.”

Lily.

Of course she was. Always meticulous, always professional. And right now, sitting too close to Daniel at the end of the open workspace — their heads bent together, laughing about something.

The sound hit me harder than it should have.

Her laugh. His smirk. The way he leaned toward her, fingers brushing her chair.

My jaw clenched. I rose from my seat before I could think it over.

I crossed the room in steady, deliberate strides. Every step echoed with a warning in my head: Don’t. You’re her boss. Keep your distance.

But when I stopped at her desk, she looked up — startled, eyes wide, that same shade of brown that made my chest ache.

“Mr. Sterling,” she breathed, as if she hadn’t expected me to appear.

“Lily.” My tone came out colder than I intended. “Are you done with the contracts I gave you yesterday?”

She blinked. “Almost. Daniel was just helping me cross-check—”

“I see.” My gaze cut to Daniel, who suddenly found his monitor very interesting. “I think you have better things to do, Mr. Adams.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course, sir.”

When he walked away, the tension stayed.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lily said quietly once Daniel was gone.

I ignored the guilt curling low in my gut. “Bring those reports to my office when you’re done.”

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to argue, but she bit back the words and nodded instead.

When she came in later, she didn’t bother knocking. She dropped the file on my desk. “Here. Done. Anything else, or do you want to scare off someone else today?”

Her defiance hit like a spark to my depraved soul.

I leaned back, studying her. “Close the door, Lily.”

She hesitated, but she did.

The second the latch clicked, the air shifted.

I stood, circling the desk slowly, my gaze never leaving her. “You’ve been distracted.”

She crossed her arms. “Maybe because someone keeps acting like a jealous—”

“Careful.” My voice dropped low.

Her chin lifted higher. “Then tell me why you’re acting like this.”

I stopped in front of her. Close enough that I could smell the faint trace of her perfume — vanilla and something floral, something that made my pulse trip.

“You shouldn’t let other men touch you like that,” I said quietly.

Her eyes widened. “Daniel brushed my chair, Andrew. That’s it.”

“I saw the way he looked at you.”

She gave a short laugh — breathless, nervous. “You don’t own me, Mr. Sterling.”

Her tone was soft, but the words hit like a challenge.

I didn’t move at first. Just stood there, watching her chest rise and fall. Then I took one step forward. And another.

Her back met the edge of my desk.

She was trapped and I stepped in between he legs.

“I don’t,” I said, my voice rough now. “But you’re driving me insane.”

Her breath hitched, the space between us shrinking until it was a heartbeat wide.

Her lips parted slightly. I could see her pulse racing at her throat, the same rhythm hammering through me. My hand hovered near her cheek — not touching, but close enough that she’d feel the heat.

The air was so thick it was almost suffocating.

I brushed my knee against her core just to tease her, she let out a breathy moan and clutched my hand, I did it again

Then—

A sharp knock on the door.

“Sir? The meeting with the investors—”

“Five minutes,” I snapped, not taking my eyes off her.

The assistant’s footsteps retreated.

Lily used the distraction to move, stepping away quickly. “You can’t— we can’t keep doing this.”

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You think I don’t know that?”

She wouldn’t look at me. “Then stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to ruin me.”

Her words hit deeper than she could ever know. Because that was exactly what I wanted — to ruin every plan, every wall she built. To make her see she wasn’t just another employee to me.

But before I could say anything, she turned and left.

The office felt colder when she was gone.

I tried to work. Tried to read through the investor notes, the stock forecasts, the legal clauses that might as well have been written in a dead language. But every word blurred into the curve of her mouth, the tremble in her voice.

By the time night fell, my restraint had snapped.

I needed control. I needed a release.

So I drove.

The Obsidian Club loomed like a secret sin — black glass and dim lights, whispers of desire in every corner. My mask waited where I always left it: silver, smooth, expressionless.

Here, no one saw Andrew Sterling. Only the man behind the mask.

I poured myself a drink and leaned back in the private lounge, the low hum of music filling the space. Usually, this place gave me calm. Power. But tonight, even that wasn’t working.

Until I saw her.

At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks — that I’d imagined her walking through those doors in a short black dress that shimmered against her skin, hair tumbling in soft curls around her shoulders.

But then she laughed — that same breathy, nervous laugh — and I knew.

Lily.

She was here.

Every muscle in my body locked tight as I watched her step further into the room, her eyes scanning the crowd, completely unaware of me.

Of who I was here.

The waiter leaned down to whisper something to her — the same instruction I’d given. To bring her to me.

My heart drummed once, twice, before I masked the chaos with stillness.

When the door opened and she stepped in, everything inside me combusted.

I didn’t move. Just let her come closer.

When she stopped a few feet away, I reached out — slow, deliberate — and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The curls slid soft through my fingers.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. We just looked. Her pupils dilated, her lips parted, and her breath quickened — the same rhythm I remembered from the night she’d kissed me back.

“Take off your jacket,” I said quietly.

Her fingers trembled as she did, eyes locked on me. She wasn’t scared. She was curious.

Defiant.

Beautiful.

When she stood there, bare-shouldered under the low light, I felt something snap inside me again — something dark and claiming.

I didn’t touch her. Didn’t have to. The tension did all the touching for me.

After a long, charged silence, I said, “You can go.”

She hesitated, as if waiting for something more. But then she nodded and left.

The door closed.

And I finally let myself exhale.

Because now I knew the truth.

Lily wasn’t just under my skin. She was in my blood — a fire I couldn’t contain.

And as I watched her walk out of the club, the promise burned hot in my chest:

So she wanted to play with fire?

Fine.

Let’s burn together.

***