CHAPTER TWO - THE RULES WE BREAK
922 Words
The office looked exactly the same as it had that morning—sleek lines, glass walls, and the low murmur of wealth at work—but everything felt different.
Because she was different.
Sienna Rose sat at her desk outside Mr. Linton’s office, fingers hovering over her keyboard, trying—and failing—to concentrate. Her lips still tingled from his kiss.
It hadn’t been a kiss, really. It had been... a claim.
She pressed her thighs together beneath the desk.
*God, get it together, Sienna.*
Her screen glared back at her, full of half-written emails and numbers that refused to stay still. She’d only been here a few hours, and she was already treading dangerously close to making mistake number two.
Mistake number one had been letting her boss’s partner devour her mouth like he had every right to it.
*Dominic Wolfe.*
Just thinking his name sent a slow, traitorous pulse through her body.
And of course—because fate had a cruel sense of humor—the glass elevator dinged across the room. She didn't have to look up to know who it was. The shift in energy was instant. The receptionist sat up straighter. A junior agent stumbled over his own briefcase.
Only one man had that kind of presence.
Dominic strode in like he owned the oxygen in the building—dark suit, darker eyes, controlled power in every step.
Sienna looked down quickly, hoping he’d walk right past.
No such luck.
He stopped at her desk.
“Sienna.”
Her name sounded like a secret in his voice.
She slowly raised her eyes, careful to keep her expression neutral. “Mr. Wolfe.”
His jaw ticked at the formality. “A word. My office.”
It wasn’t a request.
Her heart began its now-familiar panic drumbeat as she stood, smoothing her skirt. She could feel the eyes on her. Whispering already starting. A few desks down, someone pretended not to watch.
He didn’t wait for her. He turned and walked off, expecting her to follow.
She did.
---
His office was nothing like Mr. Linton’s. Where Linton had family photos and warm tones, Dominic’s space was all cold sophistication—black marble, chrome, shadows. It smelled faintly of leather and something deeper. Him.
He closed the door behind her. The soft click felt final.
Sienna turned. “If this is about the elevator—”
“It is,” he said, voice clipped. “And it isn’t.”
She crossed her arms, needing something to hold on to. “You said to forget it happened.”
“I did.”
“So?”
He stalked toward her—measured, unhurried, but dangerous all the same. “I said it as a warning. Not a promise.”
Her throat dried. “We can’t do this.”
“You’re right.” He stopped just inches away. “You’re off-limits.”
She nodded, eyes locked on his chest. “Exactly.”
“And yet,” he said, fingers brushing hers, “I can’t stop thinking about how you tasted.”
Her breath hitched. “Mr. Wolfe—”
“Dominic,” he corrected, low and rough.
His hand reached for hers, catching her wrist gently. Heat exploded up her arm. Her body was screaming yes while her brain scrambled for no.
“You’re my partner’s assistant,” he murmured, dragging his fingers slowly up her arm. “Fresh out of college. Smart. Beautiful. Hungry.”
“I’m not hungry for *this*.”
He smiled darkly. “Liar.”
The word curled between them.
“Why did you bring me here?” she whispered.
“To remind myself why I shouldn’t touch you again.”
“And how’s that working out?”
His hand slid to her waist.
“Terribly.”
---
She should’ve stepped back. She didn’t.
His fingers pressed against the silk of her blouse, his eyes searching hers for something she was afraid he might find.
Need. Curiosity. A slow-burning want that terrified her.
“You don’t even know me,” she said, voice trembling.
He leaned in, his mouth by her ear. “I know what you sound like when you gasp.”
A shiver tore down her spine.
“I know you taste like temptation. That your body fits perfectly in my hands. And I know I haven’t stopped replaying that kiss once.”
Sienna’s hand found his chest, not to stop him—but to feel the wild beat of his heart. He wasn’t unaffected. That alone undid her more than anything else.
“We can’t do this,” she said again, but softer now. Almost pleading.
“I’ll stop,” he said. “But not because I want to.”
Their eyes locked.
“But because you need me to.”
She nodded slowly.
He stepped back. Just enough to breathe.
But before she could relax, his next words cut through the silence.
“You’ll have dinner with me tonight.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Dinner. Tonight. One hour after work.”
“I just said—”
“You said we can’t do this. Dinner’s not this.” His smirk was wicked. “It’s just food. Talking. Me, getting to know the woman I already can’t forget.”
She stared at him.
“Think of it as research,” he added. “So you can keep turning me down properly.”
And then, with one last glance that made her knees go weak, Dominic Wolfe walked away.
To Be Continued...
- Writer
