They say professionalism has boundaries. Lines drawn in invisible ink, waiting to disappear the moment heat fills the room. Rachel had spent years building walls—walls of control, dominance, and discipline. But none of that prepared her for the way Tyler looked at her—like every inch of her body was a promise waiting to be claimed.
He was young, fresh, and green… but not innocent. His eyes lingered too long, his compliments had weight, and the way he sometimes "accidentally" brushed against her made her thighs press together under her desk.
Rachel wasn't supposed to feel this way. She was his boss. His mentor. His daily distraction.
But with each shared coffee, each late-night briefing, each subtle tease across that long oak desk… the slope got slipperier. And she was losing her grip.
The question wasn't if she would fall—it was when.
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