Her hair was brunette and curly, her eyes cheerfully intense. Her lips were full and red, graced with a kooky yet bewitching smile. Her voice was lost to him in the crowd until a laugh bubbled up, a sound defying her svelte, delicate form, reaching his ears from across the room, topped with a charming snicker-snort. Her cheeks blushed, her eyes coy upon meeting his. He flashed her a smile, she lowered her gaze, sipped at her drink, flickered her eyes and turned her head away from him who caressed her with attention.

He loved watching her, her dress simple with her embroidered initials, her petticoat full, accentuating her tiny waist as she swayed her hips, unconsciously arousing him by enjoying a melody she seemed too young to know so well. Tapping his finger on a glass of Bourbon, he followed her rhythm, longing to swirl her around in his arms on the dance floor and rock her hips against his own. The glow on her face betrayed her joy, attracting more of his admiration as his eyes drank in a side of her she rarely granted him to see.

It was the gleam in his eyes, so warm and tender, that made her shiver for a moment, the intensity of his glare suggesting he wanted more from her than just flirtation. For weeks, she had tried not to see the man in him, had feared he might impose himself on her like many partners did with their girl Fridays, demanding concessions after hours.There was a reason why she always dressed on the conservative side, why her suits were tailored to perfection without revealing more than she was willing to expose. She had told him during her interview that she was interested in his work, that she was looking for a job she wanted rather than a chore she needed to pay the rent. She had enjoyed working with him since, her love for music suddenly compromising the mutual respect she had come to rely on as his right hand.

It was the image of her curves that stuck inside his head, the beauty of those unguarded seconds when she had danced only for herself. He felt haunted by her hips, her scent. For days he saw her when he closed his eyes and longed to invite her to a kiss. She noticed the changed quality of his mood, the maddening sensation of his hand brushing against hers on the desk, always lingering a little too long to justify inadvertence. She saw that little sparkle in his eye, the charming dimple on his cheek when he gave her one of his rare full smiles, asking her to indulge in a private joke between them.

Their first buss was chaste when it finally happened, her hands soft and trembling, offering him to hold her close. It was her steadfastness that made him fall, her innocence and desire, growing into a blazing flame. So respectable on the outside, he found her mysterious within. Her lips tender like her touch, bearing secrets he vowed to keep as he wallowed in sweetest sin, making her blush with life as his fingers teased the softness of her curves, neatly hidden beneath layers of silky fabric.

It was the silence that followed that surprised him when she softly broke their kiss, the anguish of detection slowly creeping into her mind as she tried to reinstate her office composure before he was ready to leave that taste in her mouth for more. But the tenderness in his eyes was too alluring, his hands so comfortable on her waist, she couldn’t bring herself to leave his arms. It felt too good falling in love with him.


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