Jay pressed her palm against the cold edge of her desk, trying to steady the trembling in her fingers. The office was quiet—just the faint hum of computers and the occasional rustle of papers—but her mind was a whirlwind of last night's memories. Even thinking about it made her pulse race.
She had always thought of Keifer as untouchable—the formidable CEO of Watson Enterprise, the kind of man whose presence alone could command a room. And yet, last night had been… surreal. Intimate. Somehow, behind the closed doors of his penthouse apartment, he had been entirely hers. The thought made her cheeks flush at the memory of his hands, his whispered words, the way he had looked at her as if she were the only person in the world.
Now, sitting at her desk, she tried to focus on the contracts in front of her, but every sentence seemed to blur. Her pen hovered above the paper as her mind wandered, imagining the warmth of his touch, the curve of his lips as they pressed softly against hers, the teasing way he had held her close and made her heart hammer in her chest.
A cough from the corridor made her straighten. She quickly smoothed her blouse and tried to look busy. Of course, she couldn't have been more obvious—her fingers shook ever so slightly, and her cheeks were no longer their usual calm shade.
"Jay."
Her heart skipped. She looked up to see Keifer leaning casually against the doorframe of her office, arms crossed, his dark eyes scanning her as if he could read every secret thought. The small, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at his lips made her stomach do a somersault.
"Morning," she managed, her voice higher than she intended. She shifted in her seat, trying to seem composed.
"I trust you slept well?" he asked, stepping a little closer. There was something about the way he carried himself, even in casual conversation, that made her feel simultaneously nervous and exhilarated.
"I… yes," she replied, brushing imaginary dust off her papers. Her hands shook despite herself. "And you?"
"I did," he said, voice low, almost teasing. He leaned over her desk, his proximity making her hyper-aware of every breath, every subtle movement. "I think we need to… focus on work now, though. There are contracts that need reviewing."
Jay nodded, biting her lip. She tried to concentrate, but every time he moved, every time his hand brushed against hers while pointing at a section of text, she felt her resolve weakening. There was a tension between them—electric, undeniable—that neither of them could ignore.
"You've been… distracted all morning," he said, his voice playful, yet with a hint of concern. "Is something wrong?"
Jay swallowed hard, cheeks burning. "No… I'm just—just focusing," she murmured, even though her racing heart betrayed her.
Keifer's gaze softened. He reached out, lightly brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Jay… you don't have to pretend with me."
Her chest fluttered. She wanted to look away, to hide, to pretend this wasn't happening, but the pull toward him was too strong. "I'm… trying," she admitted, her voice barely audible.
He leaned closer, and her breath caught. The office, normally so orderly and professional, felt suddenly charged with a private electricity, as if the walls themselves were aware of them. "Good," he murmured, his lips almost brushing her ear. "Because I think we both know you're lying when you say you're not distracted."
Jay's heart hammered. She tried to focus on the contract in front of her, but her eyes kept drifting to him, to the strong line of his jaw, the way his dark eyes held hers with an intensity that made her shiver.
"Keifer…" she breathed, and the sound of her own voice made her blush. He smiled, and that small, slow smile made her knees feel weak.
"I think you need a break," he said, stepping fully into her space. His hand brushed hers as he gestured toward the paperwork, and the spark that shot through her was undeniable.
Jay swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. "A… break?"
He nodded. "Just a little… time away from all this." He gestured toward the door, and she felt her pulse quicken. There was no denying what he meant—the moment between them was charged with something far deeper than work.
The office door clicked shut behind her, and suddenly the hum of computers and the distant voices of the staff faded into nothing. It was just the two of them, in a private world where nothing else mattered.
Keifer stepped closer, and Jay felt her chest tighten. He took her hand in his, fingers intertwining with hers. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it made her acutely aware of every inch of herself.
"Jay…" he said, voice low, almost a whisper. "Are you… still nervous?"
"I… a little," she admitted, her eyes locked on his. Her pulse pounded, and the warmth in her cheeks was mirrored in the nervous tremor of her hands.
He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand. "Good. Me too."
For a moment, they simply stood there, hands entwined, eyes locked, hearts racing in tandem. Then, slowly, he leaned in. Her lips met his in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the kind of tension that made her knees weak. She melted into it, wrapping her arms around him instinctively, and he responded, holding her close, their bodies pressed together in a gentle, intimate embrace.
The kiss deepened, but still remained tender and teasing, filled with longing and the shy awkwardness of two people exploring the closeness between them for the first time outside the safety of words. His hands traced the line of her shoulders, and she shivered, feeling a rush of warmth and emotion that left her dizzy.
"Keifer…" she whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him. His dark eyes were soft, warm, and attentive, and she felt herself falling further into the magnetic pull between them.
He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. "I think… we should take this slow," he said, his voice husky. "Savor it."
Jay nodded, and together, almost silently, they began to let the moment unfold. The intensity between them grew as they allowed themselves to explore closeness—hands brushing over fabric, subtle shifts of their bodies, playful teasing, and stolen kisses that left them both breathless.
Slowly, almost deliberately, they started to remove layers—his jacket, the top buttons of her blouse, each movement carefully framed as romantic and sensual rather than sexual. Every brush of clothing, every whispered breath, made their hearts race and their cheeks flush.
Jay felt a thrill at the intimacy, the closeness, the trust that it took to be so vulnerable with someone she cared about. And Keifer mirrored every emotion, every hesitation, treating her with a tenderness that made her chest ache in the best way possible.
They paused often, laughing softly at their own awkwardness, stealing kisses in between, whispering little reassurances. It was intimate, sensual, and charged, but always sweet—like a dance of trust and desire.
For hours, they were lost in their own private world, the office around them fading into insignificance. Every touch, every glance, every breath shared felt like a declaration. And when they finally straightened, adjusting clothing and taking a moment to calm their racing hearts, Jay realized she had never felt closer to anyone in her life.
Her hands still tingled from the closeness, and she looked at Keifer, seeing the same mixture of shyness, longing, and contentment reflected in his gaze.
"Wow," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Wow," he echoed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her close. "We… make a pretty good team."
Jay laughed softly, resting her head against his chest. "The best," she murmured.
The office door stayed closed, but the world outside had returned. And as they finally pulled away to focus on the contracts waiting on the desk, there was a shared understanding between them: this was only the beginning.
A beginning filled with tension, teasing, intimacy, and the kind of chemistry that neither time nor circumstance could diminish.