Episode3
644 Words
Elena’s heels clicked against the marble floor of Harrison Black’s penthouse lobby. She hated how fast her heart was pounding. She had rehearsed her professional demeanor a hundred times in her head, but she knew it would be nearly impossible to hide her nerves around him.
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped into the penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city lights, glittering like stars. Harrison was already there, leaning casually against the kitchen island, a glass of scotch in hand.
“Ms. Cruz,” he said, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. “You made it.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “It’s part of the job.”
He smirked. “Oh, I think you have a choice. You always have a choice. You just never want to admit it.”
Elena swallowed hard. That smirk did something to her ,something reckless. She had to focus. “We can discuss strategy now.”
Harrison set the glass down and walked toward her. The air between them seemed to shift. Every step he took made her pulse jump. He stopped just a few inches away, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.
“You’re tense,” he said softly. “Relax.”
“I am fine,” she said, though her voice betrayed her.
“Are you?” His hand brushed hers briefly as he gestured toward the couch. The touch was electric. Elena felt her resolve weaken. She took a deep breath and moved toward the couch, determined to focus on the work.
They went over campaign details, budgets, and schedules. Every time she made a point, he countered, challenging her in a way that made her brain race and her body respond. The tension was unbearable.
Harrison leaned back on the couch, letting his hand brush hers again, lingering this time. “You’re too serious,” he said. “I like that about you, but you need to let go sometimes.”
Elena’s breath hitched. She wanted to pull away, wanted to remind herself this was business, nothing more. But the memory of the gala, the heat of that night, rushed back with every glance, every brush of his hand.
“Let go?” she repeated, trying to mask the tremor in her voice.
“Yes,” he said, leaning closer. His lips were inches from hers. “Let me show you what it feels like to forget everything else for a moment.”
Her instincts screamed no. Logic screamed no. But desire screamed louder. One night. That’s all she could tell herself. One night.
He kissed her.
Soft at first, testing, then deepening, urgent and demanding. Elena’s body responded before her mind could catch up. Her hands tangled in his hair, her knees pressed against his. Everything around them disappeared,the city, the penthouse, the campaign all vanished into the heat between them.
Hours later, when they finally pulled apart, both breathless and flushed, Elena sank back against the couch.
“This is insane,” she whispered, staring at him.
“Perhaps,” he said, his voice low and husky. “But some things are worth being insane for.”
Elena closed her eyes. She had to remind herself of the rules. She was his client, not his plaything. Not again. Not after Saturday.
Harrison smiled, leaning closer until their foreheads touched. “One night doesn’t have to stay one night,” he murmured.
She jolted. “Stop,” she said, shaking her head. “We cannot. I am your client. This,this is dangerous.”
He smirked. “Everything with me is dangerous. You knew that the first time.”
She looked away, heart pounding, knowing he was right. The rules had already broken. They had already crossed the line.
And now, there was no going back.
- Writer
