Elena’s POV

The high from the desk night lasted days. I floated through meetings with a secret smile. Every brush of fabric against my skin reminded me of his hands, his mouth, that wild rush. Work flew by. Life sparkled.

But nothing this hot stays hidden forever.

The first crack came mid-week. Team lunch in the café downstairs. I sat with colleagues, chatting numbers. Ethan joined late, tray in hand, sliding into the seat beside me casually.

Under the table, his fingers found my knee. Traced slow circles up my thigh.

I froze. Fork halfway to my mouth.

He chatted with the group like normal, laugh lines crinkling, but his...