Chapter two
908 Words
Maya
Thirty minutes.
That's what he said.
Thirty minutes before the doors unlocked. Before security did their sweep. Before the lie we were telling ourselves fell apart.
Damien's mouth was on mine like he was trying to erase the last three weeks. All the meetings. All the knives.
His tie was around my wrist. Loose. A choice, not a trap. But I didn't pull away.
"Damien," I gasped when he broke the kiss to get air. "This is-"
"Stupid?" His forehead dropped to mine. His breath was hot. "Yes."
"Reckless?"
"Absolutely." His hand slid under my skirt, up my thigh, and I stopped pretending I had a speech left in me. "Say stop, Maya."
I couldn't.
Not when he looked at me like that. Like I was the only thing in the room that wasn't for sale.
The emergency light painted him red. Made his eyes look almost black. Made the scar at his hairline stand out - one I'd never seen in board photos.
"Clause 7," I said, because if I didn't say something smart I'd cry or come undone. "Your personal guarantee."
He laughed. Low. Ruined. "You want it in writing?"
"I want-" The words died when his mouth found my throat.
I arched off the cold glass. Papers crunched under me. My laptop slid off the desk and hit the carpet with a thud.
No one came.
Because we were sealed in. Because the building thought we were in danger. Because Damien Hale had decided I was worth breaking for.
His shirt was open now. I dragged my hands over his chest. Hard. Hot. A body that looked like it was built to take over companies and take people apart.
"Look at me," he ordered again.
I did.
"Good girl."
My hips jumped.
He noticed. Of course he did. Damien noticed everything.
"Is this what you wanted?" His mouth at my ear now. "All those meetings? All that fighting?"
"No," I lied.
"Liar." His teeth grazed my earlobe. "You've been fighting me because you wanted to know if I'd fight back."
He was right.
God help me, he was right.
The city screamed outside the windows. Lightning lit us up for half a second. In that flash I saw it: his tie in my hand, his mouth on my neck, my blazer on the floor, his control gone.
This was career suicide. This was everything I wasn't supposed to want.
I wanted it anyway.
"Damien-"
He kissed me again to cut it off. Deeper this time. Desperate.
His hand moved higher. His thumb found the edge of my underwear and paused.
"Last chance," he said against my lips. "Say it."
I didn't.
I wrapped my legs around his waist instead.
He swore. And then the world tilted.
The desk. His weight. The silk at my wrist. His mouth everywhere, like he was trying to memorize me before the lights came back on.
He wasn't gentle. Damien didn't know how. But he was careful. With his hands. With his weight. With the way he watched my face like my yes mattered more than his win.
And it did.
For him, in that moment, it did.
"Mine," he muttered into my skin. Not a question.
I should have said no.
I said his name instead.
The emergency lights buzzed. The storm raged. The building counted down.
Twenty minutes left.
Ten.
Five.
He didn't stop.
Neither did I.
We broke apart just as the red lights flickered back to white.
The building exhaled.
The door unlocked with a loud click.
We froze.
Damien rolled off me in one motion. Grabbed his shirt. Threw my blazer at me. His chest was heaving. His hair was a mess. His mouth was swollen.
Mine too.
I scrambled off the desk. Papers everywhere. My folder. My laptop. The contract we were supposed to sign.
I yanked my blazer on. Missed two buttons. My hair was down, tangled. My lipstick was gone.
The door opened.
Security.
Two guards. Flashlights. "Mr. Hale? Power's back. You okay in there?"
Damien didn't look at them. He looked at me.
And for half a second, the CEO mask was gone.
Just a man. Caught.
"Fine," he said, voice flat. Boardroom voice. "Generator tripped. Ms. Chen and I were... reviewing documents."
Documents.
Right.
The guards' eyes swept the room. The scattered papers. The open folder. The laptop on the floor.
They didn't see the tie on the desk. I snatched it. Shoved it in my bag.
"Sorry for the scare, sir," one guard said. "We'll be doing rounds."
"Don't," Damien said.
They stopped.
"Ms. Chen is leaving now. See her to the elevator."
It wasn't a request.
I didn't look at him again.
I couldn't.
If I did, I'd see the man from five minutes ago. The one who said my name like it hurt. The one who broke his rules.
I walked out. Head high. Blazer buttoned wrong.
The elevator ride down was 47 floors of silence.
My phone buzzed in my bag when I hit the lobby.
Damien.
Folder. My desk. You forgot it.
I hadn't.
He had my tie.
I stood in the rain outside Hale Dynamics for a full minute, watching his building light up again, 50 stories above me.
Rule #2 of the boardroom: Never let them see you after.
I broke that one too.
Because I was already drafting the email in my head.
Subject: Clause 7.
Body: We need to talk
- Writer
