Hot for the Boss

Halos wala nang mga tao sa loob ng office. Ang tanging tunog ng printer na nakalimutan yatang patayin ng kung sino man ang sumisira ng katahimikan ng buong lugar. Outside, the city was alive like it always was on a Friday night—cars honking, people laughing somewhere below, and bright neon signs casting colors onto the windows. On the twelfth floor, everything felt still. Ang pulang ilaw ng emergency exit ay nangingibabaw sa hindi gaanong kaliwanag na ilaw na naroon. Moments later, the copy machine let out a low sound as it printed the last few sheets. Noah leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, watching Adeline Ventura like she was the only woman left on earth. Hindi siya dapat nandito. At ganun din ang boss niya. But that’s what made it dangerous. And that’s what made it feel inevitable. Adeline stood with her back half-turned, her sharp blazer discarded on the nearby chair, her white blouse slightly wrinkled from the ten-hour day. In-adjust niya ang copy tray like it mattered, like she wasn’t aware of him. Like he’s not only six feet away from her, silent and watching her every move. She knew he was watching. He knew she wanted him to. Nang tuluyang humarap si Adeline sa kan’ya, the air cracked with tension. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Mr. Del Rosario,” Adeline murmured, her voice low and deliberate. Her heels echoed across the room as she stepped toward him, not fast, not hesitant. Just... conscious. It was like every move she made had been reviewed and approved in triplicate. But Noah? Hindi man lang siya gumalaw. He just stood there, cocky and calm, even as his heart pounded hard against his ribs. He smiled, slow and sure. “I never start what I can’t finish, Ma’am.” That word. Ma’am. She hated how much she liked hearing it from him. There was a moment—just one—when she could’ve stopped. Turned around. Walked out with her reputation intact. Pero hindi niya ginawa. Hindi niya alam kung bakit tila hirap na hirap siyang gawin ang bagay na iyon gayong iyon ang pinakamadaling bagay na kaya niyang gawin buong buhay niya—control herself in every chance she gets and stop herself from doing things that will only destroy her and the reputation she’s been building since day one. She took one more step. Close enough now that her breath brushed against his jaw, her perfume settling into the space between them like heat. “Binalaan na kita,” she whispered. He raised an eyebrow. “And I didn’t listen.” Nahanap ng kamay ni Noah ang beywang niya at marahan iyong pinulupot. Softly, at first. Testing. She didn’t flinch. And then he pulled her forward. Tumama ang mga kamay niya sa matigas nitong dibdib, sinusubukang balansehin ang sarili, but she didn’t push him away. She couldn’t anymore. In the silent hum of the copy room, the rules—her rules—slipped between them like paper out of the printer: warm, smooth, and soon forgotten. Ang boses niyang palaging kalmado ay naging parang bulong na lamang sa hangin. Tila kahit sa sarili niyang boses ay hindi na rin niya kayang kontrolin. “This...is a mistake,” she gasped. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear. That mere move sent shivers down her spine. Halos magwala ang mga kung anong hayop sa kan’yang tiyan dahil sa ginawa ng binata. She muttered a soundless curse under her breath. “Then tell me to stop,” Noah whispered against her ear, which made her bite her lower lip for a second. And she didn’t. She couldn't. And God knows she's been trying to do so. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her mouth brushing his. Wala sa kanila ang gustong lumayo sa isa’t-isa. Tila naging kompetisyon iyon na ayaw talunin nilang dalawa. Then her hands fisted in his shirt, clutching fabric like control was something she could still hold onto. “You’re an intern,” tila hirap niyang giit dito. “I’m your superior.” He shook his head. “I’m not your student,” he said. “And we’re both adults, Ms. Ventura.” The silence that followed was tense, like the inhale before the crash. Nagsalubong ang mga tingin nila, na para bang iyon na ang huling sandali na mangyayari iyon. There was longing in their gazes. Unti-unti ring bumibigat ang kanilang mga hininga na tila mapupugto ito bigla anumang oras. And before they knew it, her mouth crashed into his. Noah responded instantly, hungrily, like he’d been waiting for this for weeks, which he had. Their kiss was a collision—urgent, needy, and messy in all the ways she never allowed herself to be. He softly pushed her against the wall, hands finding her hips, her thighs, and the curve of her waist. Adeline’s fingers brushed through his hair as she kissed him deeper, like she was punishing him for wanting her. Or for making her want him back. God, she wanted him back. Sa bawat butones ng damit ni Noah na nasisira ay para bang tumatawid si Adeline sa panibagong limitasyon na sinumpaan niyang kailanma’y hindi tatawirin. O kahit tumapak man lang doon. But the feel of his mouth, the weight of his body, the way he groaned softly when she tugged his hair—it burned hotter than regret. “I’ve thought about this,” Noah muttered between their kisses, lips trailing down her jaw. “Way too often.” She let out a soft, involuntary sound. A half-moan, half-laugh. “That makes two of us.” His hands slipped beneath her blouse, palms brushing bare skin. She was warm, tense, and trembling. Not from fear, but from wanting. “Tell me, Mr. Del Rosario, that this isn’t just about the chase,” she breathed, her voice uneven for once. Vulnerable. He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. “It started that way,” he admitted, thumb grazing her lower lip. “But it’s not anymore.” Something flickered behind her eyes. Soft. Terrified. And then she kissed him again, harder this time, desperate to shut out the part of her that still thought this was madness. Because it was. She was twenty-six. He was twenty-four. She’d built her career from the ground up. He was here on a six-month rotation. She wasn’t supposed to notice him. He wasn’t supposed to flirt with her. But he had. At hinayaan lamang niya ang binata. And now they were here, pressed against a copier in a locked room with no one else left in the building, crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. She tasted like wine and danger. He tasted like heat and hunger. Their clothes stayed mostly on—half-unbuttoned, wrinkled, clutched. Ni hindi iyon tungkol sa pagtatapos ng kabaliwang ginagawa nila sa gabing iyon. Not yet. It was about crossing that point of no return, together. When they finally broke apart, breathless, skin flushed, the copier beeped softly in the background. Napasandal ang ulo ni Adeline sa dibdib ni Noah ng ilang sandali. Just long enough to remember this wasn’t a dream. Parehong taas-baba ang kanilang mga dibdib sa mga sandaling iyon. Then she stepped back. Fixed her blouse and brushed her hair. He watched her as she was trying to pull herself together, still against the wall, shirt half-undone, looking like sin and satisfaction. Hindi nagsalita si Adeline sa kan’ya ng ilang minuto. Then finally, softly, “We can't do this again.” Noah tilted his head. “Wasn’t aware we did anything.” Tinapunan siya ng tingin nito. There wasn’t even a hint of anger in her eyes, just like she used to do. Just... conflicted. “You’re impossible.” She shook her head. Marahang humalakhak si Noah. “You like that about me.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, but her lips curved upward, despite herself. “No more post-it notes. No more late-night meetings. No more copy room accidents.” Noah stepped closer, one eyebrow raised. “So just a one-time violation of HR policy, then?” She gritted her teeth. “Exactly.” She turned to leave. Pero kaagad na nahuli ni Noah ang braso niya upang pigilan siya sa pag-alis na siyang dahilan upang mapigil siya sa paghinga ng ilang segundo. “You sure?” Saglit niyang pinagmasdan ang kamay nitong nakahawak sa braso niya, pagkatapos ay tinapunan niya ito ng tingin. “No.” Then she left. Leaving him there, heart racing, lips swollen, and one thing burning in his mind. This wasn’t over. Not even close.