Chapter 3 After Hours (SABRINA'S POV)

The office was dead silent.

Not the usual, pleasant kind of quiet. Not the kind that lets you concentrate on spreadsheets or sip overpriced coffee without interruption. This was heavy, loaded, the kind of silence that makes your skin tingle and your heart hammer like it’s trying to escape.

I had stayed behind, like he asked. After hours. Alone. With him.

And suddenly, I realized just how terrifying—and thrilling—that could be.

The elevator had chimed down an hour ago, sending the last few stragglers into the night. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered softly, bathing the open-plan office in a sterile, almost clinical glow. But Drake’s office… Drake’s office felt different. Dangerous. Magnetic. Alive.

I tried to tell myself I was professional. That this was just business. That I wasn’t currently burning alive from a single glance he gave me when he said:

“Stay after hours today.”

I gripped my pen like it was a lifeline and tried to focus on the folder he had left on my desk. Contracts, vendor lists, invoices—hell, probably even his grocery list. But my brain refused to cooperate.

Because I knew he was in there, watching. Waiting.

6:42 PM — The Office Empties

I heard the faint click of the door closing behind the last intern. Then nothing.

Except for my heartbeat, pounding so loudly I was convinced he could hear it.

And I was right.

“Ms. Mendoza.”

The voice. Low, smooth, loaded with… everything. Desire, control, danger.

I froze. My pen fell from my fingers.

“Sir…” I whispered. Too soft. Too exposed.

“Come in.”

I felt him before I saw him. His presence, like a tidal wave, filling the room, pressing down on me. Then he appeared in the doorway, suit jacket unbuttoned, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. The kind of casual danger no one else could pull off but him.

His gaze swept over me slowly, deliberately, like he was memorizing me in that moment. My hands clutched the edge of the desk like a lifeboat.

“Why are you still here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Professional.

“I told you to stay,” he said, stepping closer.

His proximity stole my breath. The air between us was thick, electric. My pulse raced, and my mind screamed at me to run. But my body… it didn’t want to move.

He leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, eyes locked on mine.

“You’re nervous,” he said, not a question, just a statement.

I opened my mouth to deny it. Closed it. What was the point?

“Yes,” I admitted finally.

He smirked, slow and dangerous. “Good. You should be.”

I swallowed. “Why am I… why are we—what are we doing here, sir?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked around the desk. His steps were deliberate, each one pulling me deeper into that magnetic pull I couldn’t resist.

“Do you want the truth?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” I breathed.

He stopped a mere foot away, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “The truth is… I can’t keep my hands off you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I shouldn’t want this. But I do.”

My stomach flipped. My lips parted. My knees threatened to buckle.

“And you?” he asked suddenly, cocking his head. “Do you want this too?”

I didn’t hesitate. How could I? The answer had been there since the first day I walked into this office. Since the moment I realized he wasn’t just a man in a suit… he was fire, and I was combustible.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His eyes darkened. That look—the one that made my pulse jump and my brain short-circuit—was there. Hungry. Possessive. Obsessive.

“I can’t… I can’t let you go,” he murmured, low, almost a growl. “Not after today. Not ever.”

And then, like a predator closing in on prey, he leaned in…

His hand brushed mine, fingers grazing the back of my hand. Not accidental. Intentional.

Heat exploded through me. My breath hitched.

“Drake…” I whispered.

“Do you feel that?” he asked. Voice dangerously low. “This… us… it’s not normal. But I don’t care anymore.”

My body was on fire. Every nerve screaming. Every thought melting.

“I don’t care either,” I admitted.

And then… he was closer. Too close. My chair pressed against my back, his chest almost grazing mine. I could feel the heat radiating from him, the pulse in his neck, the dangerous weight of him leaning in.

He whispered, “You shouldn’t feel this way. You shouldn’t want me. But you do, don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t lie,” I breathed, voice shaking.

“Good.” He let his fingers trail up my arm, light, teasing, almost torturous. “Because I… I’m going to make you want me. In every way. Until you can’t breathe without me.”

I felt it then. That magnetic, suffocating, intoxicating pull that had me hooked from day one. My mind screamed, This is insane. He’s your boss. You can’t… But my body betrayed me entirely.

Because I wanted him too.

For a moment, the world disappeared. Office, folders, rules, even my own sanity—gone.

It was just him, me, and the storm we were igniting.

“Do you know how hard it is to watch you every day?” he whispered. His lips so close to my ear, hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “To want you, and pretend I don’t? To see you smile at me, laugh at my jokes, and not… not take you into my arms?”

I trembled. “I—”

“Shh,” he cut me off softly, but possessively. “Don’t speak. Just feel. Feel me. Feel this.”And he traced every sensitive part of my neck with his lips,with his tongue as if memorizing  every inch and every curve there so soft, so delicate,so suffocating almost couldn't breathe.

And in that moment, my defenses shattered. Every careful thought, every attempt to keep this professional, every heartbeat I tried to control—it all collapsed.

Because Drake Peterson… my boss… the man I was supposed to just work for… was making me feel alive in ways I had never experienced.

And the worst part? I knew this was only the beginning.

He pressed just close enough for me to feel the electricity in his skin, whispering a promise I couldn’t ignore:

“Tonight… we cross the line. And there’s no going back.”