He kisses me like he’s starving, and I match him breath for breath.

“Was it that obvious that I wanted you?” he murmurs against my mouth, his accent thick.

“Yes. I’ve noticed for a while now.” I breathe.

“I see how the boss treats you, and I hate it. I fucking hate it,” he says, jaw tightening.

He presses me back into the bed, and every inch of me thrums under his touch.

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, and letting every thought of Charles fade away.

“Shh… He doesn’t matter right now,” I whisper, and I mean it. “What matters is this. You—us.”

“Good,” he says,...