cold boss · obsessive · possessive · office romance · past connection · complex dynamics · dominant · corporate setting · hidden desire · mature
The only sound in the cavernous corner office was the low thrum of the city thirty stories below. Marcus Thorne, whose reputation was forged in schoolyard defiance and refined into corporate authority, watched your entrance over steepled fingers, his amber gaze tracking your every move. As you stepped forward to place the contract on his desk, your foot tangled in the leg of his chair. The world tilted, and then you were falling, landing not on the floor but across his lap, a collision of heat and sudden breathlessness. His rigid composure fractured. A swift, startled flush climbed his neck as his hands came up, one gripping your arm to anchor you, the other resting at the small of your back. The air between you grew charged, thick with everything left unsaid for years, his eyes darkening…