Valerio's Secretary

Chapter Fourteen: The Break Room

Valerio's POV



The break room smells of burnt coffee and cheap pastries. I don’t usually come down here. Executives have their own lounge on the top floor, but something pulls me today, or someone.

I push open the door and stop at once.

Zara stands near the counter, a paper cup in her hand, talking to Ryan from Marketing. The bastard is leaning too close, one arm braced on the counter beside her, flashing that easy, practiced smile he uses on every woman in the building.

“…so if you’re free this weekend, there’s this great little Italian place downtown. Best tiramisu in the city. I could show you around after work sometime?”

Zara gives him a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “That’s kind of you, but I—”

“She’s not,” I cut in, my voice sharp enough to slice through the room.

Both of them turn, Ryan straightens instantly, the smile dropping from his face like I’ve slapped it off. Zara’s eyes widen, a flash of surprise mixed with anger.

“Mr. Cruz,” Ryan stammers. “I was just—”

“You are just wasting company time flirting with employees who are not interested in you. Back to your desk,” I say coldly. “Now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The door swings shut behind him with a soft click, leaving Zara and me alone in the small break room.

She sets her cup down harder than necessary. “That was completely unnecessary.”

I walk toward her slowly, hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching for her right away. She looks tired, beautiful, and the faint shadows under her eyes only make her more real than the image of her in my fantasies.

“Was it?” I stop less than two feet away, close enough to see the way her pulse jumps in her throat. “He was flirting with you. Asking you out. In my building.”

Zara lifts her chin, fire flashing in those dark eyes. “Last time I checked, I don’t belong to anyone. Especially not you.”

The words hit harder than they should, and something primal twists in my chest possessively.

I step closer, and she backs up until her hips hit the counter. Trapped. Exactly where I want her.

“Everything about you feels necessary,” I say, voice low and rough. “The way you move through my office like you already know every corner. The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching. The way your body reacts every single time I get close.”

I place one hand on the counter beside her, caging her in. My other hand hovers near her waist, not quite touching.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Zara. Tell me you didn’t feel it last night when my hands were on you.”

Her breathing changes, and her chest rises and falls against the silk of her blouse. I can see her n*****s tightening visibly, and my mouth waters.

>

I blink the memory away, but it leaves me harder than steel.

Her hands come up between us, not pushing me away but resting lightly against my chest. I can feel her heartbeat through my shirt, fast and erratic, matching mine.

“This is dangerous,” she whispers. “You have a fiancée. You have rules, and you don’t even know me. How many times do I need to remind you”

“I think I know enough.” My hand finally settles on her hip, gripping firmly. “I know that when I’m near you, the headaches stop. I know that your voice makes me feel like I’m waking up from a three-year coma all over again. And I know that watching another man try to take you somewhere makes me want to fire every person in this f*****g building.”

A small, broken sound escapes her throat, and her fingers curl into my shirt.

“Valerio… we can’t.”

“Dimmi di fermarmi allora,” I murmur against her ear (Then tell me to stop). My lips brush her ear. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t feel like you belong right here…with me.”

She shivers, and her head tilts slightly, giving me better access. I take the opportunity, pressing my mouth to the sensitive spot just below her ear. Not quite a kiss, just enough to taste her skin.

She gasps softly, her hands fisting tightly into my shirt.

For one perfect moment, the world narrows to just us. The tension that has been building since the day she walked into my office finally feels ready to snap. I want to lift her onto this counter. I want to push her skirt up and bury myself inside her until she screams my name.

My hand slides lower, gripping her ass, pulling her flush against me so she can feel exactly how badly I need her.

“f**k, Zara,” I groan. “Tell me I’m not the only one losing control here.”

Her forehead presses against my shoulder. She’s trembling. “You’re not,” she admits, voice barely audible. “But this…it’s complicated. More than you know.”

I pull back just enough to look at her face. Her eyes are glassy with want and something deeper, pain, secrets…so many f*****g secrets.

Before I can push further, the break room door opens, and one of the admin assistants walks in, freezes when she sees us, then mumbles an apology and backs out quickly.

The spell shatters; my only chance now ruined because of a motherfucker!

Zara pushes against my chest, and this time I let her. She slips past me, smoothing down her skirt with shaking hands, her cheeks flushed.

“I need to get back to work,” she says, not meeting my eyes.

“Zara.”

She pauses at the door.

I stare at her back, fists clenched at my sides. “This isn’t finished. Whatever this is between us… I’m done pretending it doesn’t exist.”

She doesn’t answer. She just walks out, leaving me standing here alone with a raging hard-on and a chest full of emotions I don’t know how to name.

I stay in the break room for several long minutes, trying to get myself under control, and when I finally step out, I see her back at her desk, head down, working as if nothing have happened.

But everything had, and my obsession is no longer subtle.

And the more I push, the more certain I become that Zara Matthews isn’t just another employee.