Chapter 3 After Hours

After Hours

The last light of sunset bled through the glass walls of Sterling Corporation like honey spilled over ice. The office had quieted into a hush desks empty, keyboards silenced, the once busy corridors abandoned by their power walking workers.

Everyone had gone home.

Everyone except Emma Blake.

She sat at her desk, rubbing her temples, the glow of her monitor painting soft shadows across her face. Her inbox had exploded with assignments. It was only her third day on the job, but the pressure already felt like a storm pressing against her chest.

Emma leaned back in her chair and sighed, whispering to herself, "What am I even doing here?"

She glanced at her phone. No new messages.

Ryan hadn't texted since lunch.

Instead, her mind kept wandering to him.

Mr. Aiden Cross.

🔥 The way his eyes had pierced through her in that elevator...

🔥 The way his hand had curled around her waist, as if it belonged there...

🔥 The way he said her name like a secret he wanted to keep.

She bit her lip, heat blooming across her cheeks.

Suddenly, the floor-to ceiling lights dimmed.

Emma jumped.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Click. Click. Click.

Each step slow. Calculated.

Her breath caught.

Aiden Cross appeared in the glass reflection behind her tall, dark suited, and utterly intoxicating.

"Still working, Ms. Blake?" he asked, his voice low, a husky whisper in the silence.

Emma turned around slowly. "I... didn't realize anyone else was here."

He walked toward her, his hands in his pockets, eyes never leaving hers.

"You're new. You shouldn't overwork yourself on day three," he said.

She gave a nervous smile. "Well, I don't exactly have the luxury of slacking."

He tilted his head. "You think working hard is how you'll keep your job?"

She swallowed. "Isn't that the rule?"

He leaned on the edge of her desk, close enough for her to feel his cologne clean, spicy, devastating.

"At Sterling, survival isn't about rules, Ms. Blake. It's about instinct."

Her eyes met his, a flicker of defiance lighting inside her.

"I have instincts," she said.

"Do you?" His voice dropped, almost a dare.

She didn't move.

🔥 Tension crackled between them like lightning trapped in glass.

The silence wasn't awkward. It was heavy. Loaded.

Then

⚡ The power flickered.

The entire floor plunged into darkness.

Emma gasped, standing instinctively.

"It's okay," Aiden said calmly. "Backup will kick in."

Sure enough, within seconds, the emergency lights blinked on softer, golden, more intimate.

He stood now, inches from her.

"Looks like we're stuck," she said, her voice softer than she meant it to be.

His gaze lowered to her lips.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you, Emma?"

Her name.

From his lips, it felt like silk brushing against her soul.

She shook her head slowly. "Only when it's silent."

Aiden smiled faintly. "I can fix that."

He reached forward, slowly, deliberately, and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed her skin like fire.

Emma's breath hitched.

💓 Her heart thundered. Her knees felt like air.

"You always this nervous around your boss?" he murmured.

"Only when he touches me," she whispered.

🔥 That was it.

He stepped even closer. She didn't step back.

"Say stop," he said. "And I will."

But she didn't.

Instead, she whispered, "Don't."

💋 And then he kissed her.

Slow.

Intense.

His lips moved over hers like he'd been starving. Like he'd wanted her since the moment their eyes locked in that elevator.

She melted against him, her arms sliding around his neck. His hands gripped her waist, possessive, pulling her tight into him.

Their breaths became one shaky, rushed, laced with heat.

Her back hit the glass wall behind her as he kissed down her neck, every touch unraveling her.

🔥 Fire. Everywhere.

Her thoughts blurred into nothing but sensation.

Then

Bzzzt!

Her phone buzzed on the desk.

She gasped, pulling away.

Ryan.

She looked at the screen like it had burned her.

Aiden didn't say a word, just studied her.

"I-I have to go," she stammered, voice trembling.

He nodded, his face unreadable.

"You should."

She grabbed her bag and fled the office like it was on fire.

Outside, the cool air hit her like a slap.

She leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

Her lips still tingled. Her heart raced. Her body buzzed.

And worst of all

💔 She wanted to go back in.

-

But Emma didn't go home right away.

She walked. Past glowing windows of late-night diners, past the honking taxis and distant city hum. Her heels clicked against the pavement with the rhythm of confusion.

How had this happened?

Three days. That's all it had taken.

Three days to blur the lines between business and something far more dangerous.

She reached a small coffee shop that was still open, stepped inside, and ordered something strong. The barista didn't even blink when she asked for triple espresso.

As she sat by the window, stirring the foam with distracted fingers, her phone buzzed again.

Ryan: "Hope your day wasn't too insane."

She stared at the message, feeling like it came from another life.

What could she even say?

Yeah, my boss kissed me and I wanted it more than I want sleep right now.

Instead, she typed back: "Still adjusting. Crazy day."

She put her phone down and rested her forehead against the cool glass. Her reflection stared back at her. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, lips still swollen from Aiden's kiss.

What was she doing?

-

Back at Sterling, Aiden stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office.

He hadn't moved since Emma left.

The city shimmered below, but he barely noticed it.

His thoughts were stuck on her.

The way her mouth tasted.

The way she hadn't said no.

The way she ran.

He closed his eyes briefly, fighting something in his chest. He didn't have time for this. For her.

She was new. Temporary. He was supposed to be untouchable.

But then again, wasn't that always how it started?

With a whisper.

A spark.

And then a fire.

He turned away from the window and grabbed the file he had come back for in the first place. But his fingers paused at her name typed neatly on a progress sheet.

Emma Blake.

He whispered it again, the taste of her name still on his tongue.

Dangerous.

This was dangerous.

And yet, he smiled.

-

Emma got home and tossed her bag aside. Her apartment was tiny, clean, quiet. She dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling.

She should've felt guilty. Or scared. Or something.

But all she felt was alive.

Her skin still tingled where he touched her.

And somewhere deep inside, she knew it wasn't over.

Not even close.

Because in the quiet of the night, as she closed her eyes, her fingers drifted to her lips.

She kissed him again in memory.

And whispered into the dark:

"God help me, I want more."

[To Be Continued...]