“Mr King, you haven’t seen Alexis, have you? She’s missing from her desk.”

“I sent her out on an errand,” King replied smoothly. “She won’t be long.”

After this she continued out of the room, closing the door with a click. Relieved air escaped me. King’s hand left my mouth, trailing down my body and between my legs.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” I ground out.

He chuckled again. “No, you’re not. I’ll make you come, and then you’ll like me too much to kill me.”

“Not likely.”

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t reply. Couldn’t. His cock was hitting all my sweet spots, and I no longer felt the urge to reprimand him. I kind of hated that he was right. He found my clit and started to rub, and I wasn’t sure I could take it. The feel of him inside me and his skilled fingers working my clit was too much. I was going to come so soon. Too soon. I wanted to give him hell for playing with fire like that, fucking me while Gillian was right outside, but I couldn’t summon the willpower. Everything felt too good.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he growled. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” I sighed.

“Will you come?”

“Yes,” I repeated.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, and at the same moment I shattered under his hand. He groaned and continued to fuck me while I orgasmed, drawing out each and every wave until he was coming, too. I’d never felt so possessed, so owned, in my entire life. King filled me up, and it was only at that moment I realised we’d been so gone for each other that we didn’t even remember protection. We hadn’t used it before in the limo, either, so it wasn’t a huge deal. Still, having unprotected sex with him felt closer than anything else. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but I was scared. I was usually a person who voiced what they were thinking, but not in this instance. My apprehension of the small chance that he might not return my feelings kept them locked inside, waiting for a rare moment of bravery.

King wrapped his arms around me from behind, his body melding to mine as he breathed into my skin.

“I….” he began, but faltered.

“Oliver?” I whispered.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, love. Even with everything that’s going on, I can’t stop.”

“I think of you, too. All the time.”

His lips traced my ear. “What are we doing?”

“I think….” I paused, losing courage. Come on, bravery, don’t fail me now. “Oliver,” I started over and turned in his hold, bringing my arms up around his neck, my eyes searching his. “I think we might be falling for each other.”

His throat moved as he swallowed, and his hand came up to cup my jaw. His eyes were so fierce right then, so full of words unspoken, that I found it difficult to breathe. Every tiny hair on my body stood on end, and his thumb stroked at my throat, sending shudders skittering through me. Then his mouth came to mine, his tongue sliding in deep, and I shut my eyes. He wasn’t speaking, but he didn’t need to. His kiss told me how he felt. Told me more than words could convey.

***

It took a bit of sneakiness to get me out of King’s office without Gillian seeing. After we’d both cleaned ourselves up, King went out and asked if she could go to the kiosk outside and grab him a coffee. She hopped up immediately, thankfully providing me with the opportunity to escape.

That evening King changed our plans slightly, and I was a little disappointed. I wanted more one-on-one time with him, but his mum wasn’t doing so well, so he decided we’d spend the evening at her house and he’d cook us dinner there.

I’d changed out of my work clothes, which were rumpled after our bathroom encounter. And yes, Gillian had been eyeing me suspiciously all evening. I think she knew something was up; she just didn’t know what exactly it was. I sent King a message that read,

I think Detective Gillian might be on to us. No more office shenanigans. I mean it.

Right after I sent it, I heard him chuckle loudly from inside. He didn’t reply, but his laughter said it all. I wanted to be annoyed, but I just couldn’t seem to manage it. A smile shaped my lips. That man made me so happy inside it was almost frightening.

Anyway, I sat in King’s mother’s living room in a loose cotton dress and cosy knitted socks as the smell of roast beef wafted in from the kitchen. There was the tinkling of utensils and pots and pans as King cooked in the next room. Somebody had cleaned the place up a little, too. I knew it had to have been King, since Elaine wouldn't allow any workers into the house. It touched me to imagine him cleaning; I guess because it was so at odds with the boss I knew.

Elaine sat beside me in clean pyjamas, a photo album from King’s childhood in her lap as she showed me his baby pictures. Unlike some people, who were awkward or ugly as children before growing into their looks, King had always been gorgeous. He was one of those little boys who you could look at and just know they were going to be a heartthrob when they got older. The only difference was that when he was little, his hair was snowy white. He looked almost Scandinavian. Then, as the years progressed, it got darker, became more golden than white.

About a half-hour went by, and I could tell Elaine was enjoying herself. She was remembering a simpler time before King’s father began insinuating himself into their lives.

“Mum, would you like to eat at the table or in the living room?” King asked, standing in the doorway and watching us. There was something in his eyes that gave me pause; it was contentment, an affection for both of us. I liked how it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like I was truly a part of his life now even if certain things were still up in the air.