The CEO's Desire

Amberlyn I sent my boss a nude by mistake. That's it. That's how my boring life turned into whatever nightmare this is becoming. And the worst part? I didn't even realize it until it was too late. But let me back up. New Year's Eve. Everyone was out celebrating, but me? I was lying on my couch in my apartment, scrolling through my phone like a pathetic cliché. Marcus had left three days ago for some work in Seattle. He'd barely texted since then. Two messages. Both one-word answers. I told myself it was fine. He was busy. Except I didn't know. Because Marcus never really told me anything anymore. I grabbed my wine glass—my third, maybe fourth and wandered into my bedroom. The shopping bag was still sitting on my dresser where I'd hidden it last week. I bought lingerie thinking it would spice up our relationship, it was a white lace with delicate straps. I'd never got something like that but I bought anyway because the salesgirl said it would "make any man weak." "Screw it," I muttered. I tried it on, wobbling slightly as I adjusted the straps. The mirror showed someone I barely recognized. I didn't look bad actually but maybe the wine was helping. I grabbed my phone and angled it, trying to look confident instead of ridiculous. I took a few photos until I was satisfied with one. The photo looked... okay or better than okay. I looked sexy and spontaneous. I typed quickly before I could chicken out: Dear Mr. Grumpy, I need milk. What's a sexy milkmaid without her milk? Stupid, sure but Marcus used to like it when I was playful. Used to. I hit send and tossed my phone onto the bed and went to take a shower. The shower was hot enough to turn my skin pink. I stood under the spray longer than necessary, imagining his reaction. Maybe he'd call. Maybe he'd actually miss me for once. When I finally checked my phone an hour later, there was nothing. No dots indicating he was typing or even "wow" or "damn, baby" or even a stupid emoji. Nothing. I fell asleep with my phone on my chest, while the countdown to midnight played on TV in the background. --- I woke up at 7:47 AM the next day and my heart was already racing. My alarm didn't go off. Or maybe it did and I slept through it. Either way, I was screwed. "s**t, s**t, s**t!" I threw on the first clean clothes I could find: black pants, white blouse. There was no time for makeup, I could barely brush my teeth before I grabbed my bag and ran. The office was already buzzing when I arrived, twenty minutes late. I kept my head down, sliding into my cubicle and praying no one noticed. "Cutting it close, Darren." I jumped, Sarah from accounting stood behind me, coffee in hand, smirking. "Rough night," I said, logging into my computer. She laughed and walked away. I tried to focus on my emails, but something felt wrong. I had that feeling that I was being watched. I glanced up. Kazimir Whitestone stood near the conference room, talking to someone from another department but his eyes weren't on them. They were on me. My boss, tall, stupidly handsome in that cold, untouchable way. His dark hair was perfectly styled. He never smiled, never joked, never did anything that made him seem remotely human when he was around me. And right now, he was staring at me like I'd just committed murder. I looked away quickly, my face heating up. “Stop being paranoid,” I told myself. “He's always intense. That's just his face.” But the feeling didn't go away. By noon, the office had transformed into a chaos of wrapping paper and gift bags. The company's New Year exchange, which was mandatory fun, as I liked to call it. Everyone was already gathered in the break room, laughing and chatting while I hung back near the coffee machine. "Amberlyn!" I turned, Mr Whitestone stood at the edge of the crowd, hands in his pockets, watching me again. "Yes, sir?" "My office. After this." He didn't wait for a response. Just walked away. Sarah elbowed me. "Ooh, someone's in trouble." "I didn't do anything," I said, but my stomach was already twisting into knots. What could he possibly want? I'd been on time every day this week except today. My reports were clean and I hadn't screwed anything up. Right? I kept thinking about why Mr. Whitestone wanted to see while the gift exchange dragged on forever. By the time people started going back to their desks, I felt sick. I knocked on Mr Whitestone's door. "Come in." He sat behind his massive desk, his expression unreadable. "You wanted to see me, sir?" "Yes. I need you to prepare a suite at the Kings Hotel for tonight. Top floor." I blinked. "A... suite?" "Is that a problem?" "No Sir, What time should I…" "Be there at eight. Make sure everything is ready." "Ready for...?" His eyes flicked up to mine, dark and unreadable. "Just be there, Miss Darren." “Okay Sir.” The Kings Hotel was the kind of place I'd only seen in magazines. The hotel was beautiful, beautiful was an understatement. The staff kept looking at me like I didn't belong. I arrived at 7:45, checking and rechecking the suite. Everything was perfect. I sat on the edge of the couch, scrolling through my phone, Marcus still hasn't sent any messages. I opened our chats but the photo wasn't in my chat with Marcus. I kept checking until I saw it. It was in my chat with my boss, Kazimir Whitestone. My hands went numb. The phone nearly slipped from my grip. No. No, no, no, no I scrolled frantically, my heart slamming against my ribs. There it was, the photo with the stupid message sent last night. And beneath it, one word: “Interesting.” The door clicked open. I shot to my feet, spinning around. Mr Whitestone stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He looked the same but his eyes... there was something there now. Something I couldn't name. "Sir, I…" My voice cracked. "That was a mistake. I didn't mean, I swear…" He tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips. "Oh? You just noticed?" I couldn't breathe or think. He took a step closer. "Tell me, Miss Darren..." His voice was low, quiet, and dangerous. "Was the photo meant for me?”