All Chapters of Seduced by my Bosses: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped in without checking who was behind me.Big mistake.The moment the doors sealed shut, I caught the scent—woodsmoke and spice—and felt the pull before I even turned around.Ethan.D*mn it.I slowly looked up, and there he was, hands in his pockets, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal those veined forearms I once kissed my way down. His tie hung loose around his collar like a noose he wore too well. His eyes met mine, calm but unreadable.He was the storm, and I was the fool who forgot her umbrella.“Late night?” he asked.“Working,” I replied, forcing my gaze straight ahead. “Unlike some people who spend their days hovering in elevators.”“I wasn’t hovering. I just knew you’d be here.”I swallowed. “That’s creepy.”“That’s instinct,” he said simply, stepping closer.The air crackled between us.I pressed myself against the elevator wall, desperate for space that didn’t exist. “This is harassment, you know.”“No.” H

I didn’t hear from Ethan all day.Not a call. Not a message. Not even a glance in the conference room.Which would’ve been a relief—if I weren’t obsessively replaying last night on a loop in my head.The weight of his body pinning mine.The way he whispered my name like a prayer.The ache of leaving without knowing if it meant anything to him at all.By 7 p.m., the office was nearly empty. Most of the staff had filtered out with quiet goodbyes and tired eyes. I should’ve left too, but I couldn’t. Not like this. Not with that silence gnawing at me.So I knocked.And walked into his office without waiting for an answer.He was standing by the window, back to me, sleeves rolled up, tie discarded, whiskey glass in hand.I closed the door softly behind me.“Nothing?” I said.He didn’t turn. “You said not to let it be the last time. I didn’t want to push.”“So you ghost me instead?”“I thought space was respectful.”I laughed once, bitter. “You really still don’t get it, do you?”That made

Ava’s POVThe elevator dinged, soft and smooth like a whispered secret, and I stepped onto the twelfth floor—Cross Enterprises’ executive wing. My heels clicked against the marble, echoing in the wide, quiet hallway. I clutched the manila folder tighter, willing my sweaty palms to behave.I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not really. Junior associates didn’t get summoned by Damien Cross himself.But today, I was the exception.The glass doors to his office were tinted, giving just the faintest outline of his tall silhouette inside. I adjusted my pencil skirt, pushed my wild curls away from my face, and knocked twice.“Come in,” his voice called out—low, deep, and calm like velvet dipped in honey.I opened the door and stepped in, heart pounding. The first time I’d seen Damien in person, I’d nearly choked on my coffee. He was unfairly gorgeous—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair always perfectly styled, a strong jawline that belonged in GQ, and those stormy gray eyes that seemed to look

Ava’s POVThe next morning, I expected everything to feel different.And it did. Just… not in the way I feared.Damien sent a car to pick me up for work. Not flashy, not loud—just quiet privilege. Inside, a single note sat on the leather seat.You’re brilliant. Last night was just the beginning. – D.My heart flipped. I bit my lip, smiling like a giddy teenager.But by the time I walked into the building, heels clicking across the tile floor, Damien Cross was back in CEO mode—sharp suit, unreadable expression, focused gaze. He nodded once during the meeting, barely glancing my way.The tension returned—but now it felt like foreplay. A secret world we both belonged to.By the time Friday rolled around, I was buzzing with anticipation. He hadn’t texted me since the note. I thought maybe that one night had been enough for him.Until my office phone rang.“Miss James?” His voice. Calm. Commanding. “Come up. Now.”I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”When I reached the executive floor, his assist

I should have gone home an hour ago.The office was silent now, save for the distant hum of the AC and the soft clack of my keyboard. Everyone had left after the department meeting, but I’d stayed behind, eager to finish the pitch deck for Monday’s client presentation. It was my first solo project, and I wasn’t going to screw it up.Especially not with Damon Wolfe watching.I glanced up from my screen, and my breath hitched.He was still here.Leaning against the glass wall of his office, arms crossed, dress shirt rolled at the forearms, a fresh espresso in his hand. His tie was loosened, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a faint trail of chest hair. His gaze—sharp, steel-gray—was on me.Not his screen.Not his coffee.Me.“Burning the midnight oil, Miss Rivers?” His voice was like velvet rubbed against sandpaper—smooth, yet darkly rough.I swallowed. “Just finishing up the Cardenas deck. I thought I’d take another stab at the market insight section.”He stepped out o