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Chapter 8: Your Job?

Author: MM de Wet
last update publish date: 2026-03-28 14:00:42

“Housekeeping might throw it all away.” Harper said softly, looking down at the papers on the floor. “Organizing your office and paperwork is my job,” she adds. Oliver’s expression softened slightly at her insistence; a hint of admiration mixed with the frustration in his eyes. The way she stood her ground, even in this compromised situation, was exactly why he found her so compelling. “You job is to sit at your desk and answer calls, not clean up my office after i get distracted,” he countered, through his tone lacked its usual bite. “But I suppose I can’t argue with that logic.” He released her wrist reluctantly, stepping back to give her space. “Fine but make it fast and put on that damn jacket hanging by the door- I can’t think straight knowing you are walking around without a bra on.” His gaze lingered on her chest for a moment longer than necessary before forcing himself to turn toward the door. “Five minutes, Harper. Then I expect you back at her desk looking perfectly professional.” Oliver paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” she said with a soft smile. When he left the office, she continued tidying up. She organized the paperwork as it was before. As she looked at the neatly organized desk, her gaze dropped to her bra on the floor beneath the desk. For a moment she considered putting it on again, but the thought that anyone could walk in while she did... That Oliver could walk in... In the end she decided to put her bra in his top drawer, so no one would find it, but also hoping Oliver would. It made her feel giddy imagining how he would react, seeing her black laced bra in his drawer. Something about his recent reaction made Harper want to tease him more. It was childish and silly, but she had never felt like this before. She had felt lust before and desire but nothing like this. She felt her cheeks warm up as a smile spread across her face. ‘This is ridiculous, I am a professional and he is quite a bit older than me. But the way he looked at me... The way it made me feel...’ she thought to herself as she put on Oliver's jacket and buttoned up the buttons. When she left his office, she looked around cautiously, feeling guilty. When she went to sit down at her desk, she could feel the moisture that had collected between her legs.

Oliver stepped out of the projection room, his expression already stormy from dealing with marketing’s latest presentation fiasco. When he approached his office, he was Harper sitting at her desk, wearing his jacket. The jacket was buttoned up in the front to hide her bralessness and the sleeves were rolled up so she could type more easily. The sight of her sitting there, looking perfectly composed in his oversized jacket, made something in his chest tighten. She looked up from her computer screen and saw him, his icy blue eyes roaming his body. His eyes immediately locked onto hers as he approached, noting the way her blue-green eyes roamed over his body appreciatively. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth despite his foul mood. “Enjoying the view?” he asked dryly, stopping beside her desk. “Because I am pretty sure that jacket looks better on you than it does anywhere else.” He loosened his tie as he spoke, the motion causing the fabric to fall oven slightly. His gaze flickered down to where her hands rested on her lap, remembering how they had felt gripping his tie just minutes ago. “Everything tidied up in there?” he asked casually, though his tone carried an underlying current of intimacy.

“Yes, sir. And accounting dropped off some paperwork for you on your desk,” she said, trying to sound as professional as she can. Oliver nodded curtly, his mind already shifting back into CEO mode despite the lingering tension between them. “Accounting can wait. I want to talk about what happened in there.” He moved to lean against the edge of her desk, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made the fabric of his shirt pull taut across his broad shoulders. The position was casual but deliberate, designed to keep you within his line of sight. “I can’t keep doing this, having you walk around my office looking like that... It is driving me crazy,” he said quietly, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. His eyes flicked down to where the jacket gaped slightly at the collarbone, revealing the delicate curve of her neck. “Every time I look at you, all I can think about is how good you felt pressed against me...” his eyes darkened with desire. “Uh, well what would you suggest we do, sir?” Harper asked, her voice was a whisper.

She looked up at him, seeing the tiredness and the frustration in his face. She wished she could hold him or something equally comforting. Oliver’s jaw tightened as he considered the implications of her whispered question. The professional faced he had maintained for years was crumbling under the weight of his growing obsession with her. “I don’t know what I suggest,” he admitted gruffly, pushing off the desk to pace a few steps away. “I know I can’t keep walking into that office and finding you looking all... Perfect.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration; the movement causing his shirt to shift slightly and reveal more of his collarbone. “Maybe we should stop meeting in private. Maybe I should assign you to another department.” But even as he said the words, his eyes kept drifting back to where she sat at her desk, wearing his jacket and looking like she belonged there more than anyone else. Harper felt a pang of disappointment at his suggestion, but it is understandable- the age difference, the different social position and the unbalance power relations... “Except I don’t want to do that,” he confessed quietly, stopping to face her fully. Harper felt her heart skip a beat, this is what she had hoped to hear. Excitement course through her body and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself.

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