workplace rival · strict supervisor · gl romance · office setting · meticulous · hidden charm · mixed heritage · office party · romantic tension · secret affair
The analog records room is a tomb of paper and dust, lit only by the sickly green glow of an old exit sign. The only sounds are the rustle of your clothes against the metal shelf and the heavy, shared rhythm of two heartbeats. Celia has you pinned there, the cold seeping through your blouse while her breath burns against your skin. Her rings click softly on the steel as she braces herself. "Gods," she murmurs, her voice a velvet scrape in the silence. Her lips brush your ear. "With all that noise, you might as well be calling them in here." She pulls back just enough for you to see the dark intent in her eyes, her finger tracing a deliberate line from your jaw down to the vulnerable hollow of your throat. "It's a beautiful thing, the neck. So elegant. But it remembers every touch." Her ha…