Mag-log inOliver’s expression softened further, a rare warmth entering his icy blue eyes. He watched the way her hand instinctively went to her cheek, the nervous gesture only making her more endearing. “Clubbing,” he repeated with a dismissive wave of his hand. “That is what people in their twenties do. They think going to loud bars and spending money on overpriced drinks is an experience. He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a genuine interest. “You are right- most people don’t understand making work a hobby. They see it as a means to an end, not something you can be passionate about.” His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before he picked up his latte again. “So, tell me about this specific part that caught your interest. The part that made you blush. The question was softer now, almost coaxing.
“Oh, no. There is no part of the book that...” Harper said while finishing the document binding. She took a deep breath. “Please just ignore the whole blushing thing. It’s rather embarrassing,” she requests silently and look down at the bound documents. Oliver’s lips curved into a knowing smile at her attempt to brush off the blush. He was not about to let it go so easily- the rare glimpse of vulnerability was far too interesting. “Embarrassing?” he repeated, his voice taking on a teasing quality. “On the contrary, I find it quite endearing. Most people in this office have built walls around their personal lives so high I can’t even see over them.” He stood up from his desk, moving around to lean against the front edge near where she stood holding the bound documents. The proximity caused the air between them to shift, charged with unspoken tension. “You are asking me to ignore something that tell me you are passionate about something beyond just work. That is not something I encounter often in my daily life,” he continued softly.
“Well, it is just... Sharing my passion with you... It felt rather intimate sir,” she admitted softly, still looking down at the bound documents. Oliver’s breath caught slightly at her admission, the word ‘intimate’ hanging in the air between them. He had not expected such a direct response, especially not from someone as reserved as her. “Intimate,” he repeated quietly, his voice losing its usual authoritative edge. “I suppose it is. Sharing your passions with someone who might otherwise just see you as their secretary.” He moved closer, closing the distance until she stood directly in front of her. His large frame cast a shadow over hers as he reached out to take the bound documents from her hands. His fingers brushed against hers in the exchange, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you for binding these,” he said softly, setting the documents aside on his desk. “And thank you for sharing your passion with me.”
As he took the documents, Harper looked up to his face. The blush on her cheeks deepened. “Oh, uh... Of course, sir. I should get back to work,” she stuttered nervously. Oliver’s hand lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary, his thumb brushing against her knuckles in a gesture that felt anything but professional. The heat from his touch seemed to radiate up her arm, making her blush deepen even further. “Work can wait,” he said softly, his voice taking on a husky quality. His ice-blue eyes held her captive, searching for any sign of resistance or invitation in her expression. “Unless you have something more pressing than discussing industry trends with your boss.” He did not move away, instead leaning in slightly closer. The scent of his cologne- something masculine and sophisticated- filled her senses. His other hand came up to rest on the desk beside her, effectively caging her between his body and the furniture. “I am finding myself quite... Intrigues by this conversation, and i don’t want it to end just yes,” he murmured softly.
“Oh, alright. What would you like to discuss?” Harper asked softly, her heart hammering against her chest. Oliver’s lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile at her soft question. The sound of her voice seemed to hang in the air between them, a gentle invitation that sent a pleasant warmth through his chest. “What would i like to discuss?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “How about we start with something simple. Tell me what you think of my company’s latest collection. Be honest.” He leaned in closer, his broad shoulders easily blocking out the rest of the office beyond their immediate space. The proximity allowed him to catch the faint scent of her perfume- something floral and subtle that suited her personality perfectly. “Most people in this company are too afraid to give me their real opinions,” he continued, his gaze fixed on her face. “They think I want to hear how brilliant everything is. But I value honesty more.” His hand moved from the desk to rest lightly on the small of her back, a gesture that felt both possessive and comforting.
“Oh, well I quite liked the company’s latest collection, the color scheme was balanced between vibrant and dull. The material was practical but also pleasing to the touch,” Harper said, trying to sound professional. “But the female line could use some readjustment,” she added hesitantly. Oliver’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise at her critique, a slow smile spreading across his face. Here was someone who was not afraid to challenge him, even on matters of aesthetics within his own company. “Readjustment?” he echoed. “Suck as? Do not hold back on my account- I asked for honesty.” His ice-blue eyes searched her face intently, clearly impressed by her willingness to offer constructive criticism. Most people would have praised every single piece without reservation, fearing repercussions for speaking their minds. “The female line needs more... Flexibility,” she continued hesitantly. “Some of the cuts are too rigid for everyday wear. Women want comfort and practicality along with style. Also, the clothes themselves are not easily taken off. I mean if you are in a hurry...” she added, then she blushed, realizing the implications of her words. “I mean, if you mess on them and want to quickly take them off...” She quickly tries to recover from her embarrassment.
The vulnerability in Marius’s gaze was unmistakable now– not just for her, but for himself. “The roles we play,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “The graphic designer, the lover, the boss, the partner. We spend so much time being what everyone else expects that we forget who it is underneath it all.” His fingers traced circles on the back of her hand. “If you are dramatic and needy sometimes, then be dramatic and needy,” he said, his tone matter of fact, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.“So, we are agreed then,” Tera said with a soft smile. “We will just be ourselves when we are together.” Marius’s smile was slow, almost cautious, as if he were still getting used to the idea of something so uncomplicated. He lowered himself back down, pulling her against his chest until her back was flush against his front, his arm draped over her waist. “Agreed,” he murmured, hi
“Don’t,” Marius said softly, though there was no conviction in the command. His voice was still rough, still catching in his throat. “Do not look at me like that, Tera. I do not deserve it.” It was the most honest thing he had ever said to her, and the admission seemed to surprise even himself. He let out a short, self-deprecating breath and closed his eyes for a moment, letting her touch ground him. “Why is that?” Tera asked gently, no judgement in her voice.Marius opened his yellow green eyes again, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer were written there somewhere. He did not move from her touch; his cheek still pressed against her palm. “Because people like me– people like that version of me,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the door, toward the world outside this room. “We are not meant for tenderness. We are meant for transactions. Negotiations. Getting what we want and moving on to the next thing
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against her skin. “Every time I think I have got a handle on things, you just… dismantle me.” His hand slid lower, his touch firm and certain, tracing the curved of her body with a reverence that contradicted his earlier bravado. He moved against her slowly, letting the friction build, letting the heat between them thicken until it felt like the air itself might catch fire. “No more talking,” he whispered, his lips finding hers again. The kiss was deeper this time, more demanding, his tongue sweeping against hers in a slow, rhythmic dance that mirrored the movement of his body. His fingers tightened on her hip, anchoring her to him as he pressed harder, his breath coming in short, jagged bursts against her mouth. Every muscle in his back was taut, every nerve ending firing as he mapped out the contact between them. There was no hesitation left in him– no profession
Tera goes onto her tip toes, wrapping her arms round Marius’s neck before kissing him. Marius’s hands found her waist instantly, his fingers digging into the soft skin there as he pulled her up to meet him. The kiss was warm, tasting faintly of the lingering humidity of the bathroom. He tilted his head, deepening the contact, his lips moving against hers with a slow, deliberate pressure. One of his hands slid up her back, fingers tangling in the damp hair at the nape of her neck, holding her steady on her tiptoes. “See,” he murmured against her lips, his voice barely a breath. “This is why I can’t be patient. You make it impossible.” He broke the kiss just enough to trail his lips down her jawline, his stubble grazing her skin. His breathing had gone heavier now, more focused. “Bed,” he repeated, but this time it was not a suggestion.Marius scooped Tera up into his arms without warning, his towel falling to the floor as h
Marius grabbed a second towel and held it out to Tera, his yellow green eyes trailing over her with a slow, appreciative gaze that never quiet left her. “Unless you have more spa treatments planned,” he added, a smirk returning to his lips. “Because I might need a second opinion on how much ‘fun’ we are actually having.” He stepped out of the shower stall, his bare feet hitting the cool brown tile floor.“You have another massage in mind?” Tera asked with a playful smile. Marius stopped mid-stride, the towel draped low on his hips and turned back to her. That slow, knowing smirk returned to his face, one that usually meant trouble for anyone on the receiving end. “I think I can come up with something,” he said, his voice dropping into that low register again. He closed the distance between them until he was standing right in front of her. He reached out, his damp hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lo
Marius hands slid from Tera’s shoulders down to her waist, pulling her flush against him again. The steam made everything feel heavy and intimate, the scent of shampoo and sea salt thick in the air. “Go ahead then,” he challenged softly, his thumbs tracing the line of her hips. “Show me exactly how bossy you can be with a bottle of shampoo.”“Alright, but you are going to have to bend down a bit,” Tera said softly, her words sounding strangely seductive. Marius’s gaze dropped to where she was gesturing, then back up to her face. The directness of it made his pulse thud visibly in the hollow of his throat. “Bend down,” he repeated, the words sounding more like a question than he intended. He did not move immediately. Instead, he let his yellow green eyes trace the line of her neck, the way the water clung to her skin, before he finally relented. He shifted his weight, bracing one hand against the soft sage green tiled
Oliver’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at her admission, a low growl of approval rumbling in his chest. The confession that her nervousness was due to attraction, not fear, sent a wave of possessive heat through him. “Attractive?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You think
Oliver’s eyes widened slightly at her blunt observation, a low chuckle escaping his lips. The sound was rich and unexpected, breaking the usual seriousness, he carried around the office. “In a hurry,” he repeated, his voice laced with amusement. “You are saying my designers need to consider emergen
A small, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of Oliver’s mouth as she suggested a cafe mocha for tomorrow. The idea of another deviation from his usual black coffee routine seemed to amuse him in a way he rarely allowed himself. “Cafe mocha, huh?” he repeated, his voice losing some of its
Over time Oliver notices Harper’s presence more and more. He notices how she handles her tasks with efficiency and grace. He notices her attention to detail and how skilled she was at organizing. As time went on, his interest in her became less professional, he began to wonder about her dreams and







