He flipped the folder open with steady hands—and a scream lodged in his throat.
Across the desk, Ms. Kim leaned forward, her pen tapping a note beside the expense column. "I adjusted the transportation costs here—since the district cut the fuel stipend again."
He nodded, mechanically. "Smart."
But her voice was muffled, distant. Like it was underwater. Because under the desk, Lara was still there. Hidden in the shadows. Silent. Intentional.
Then—He felt her.
A ghost of touch. Fingertips brushing the inside of his thigh like a question with no words.
His stomach dropped.
The contact was featherlight. Too soft. Too precise.
Like she knew exactly how much pressure to use to keep it undetectable.
His breath stuttered.
And then she moved again.
Upward.
Slow.
Measured.
His pulse exploded in his ears, a deafening rush. Heat flushed his face. He swallowed, hard, but his mouth was dry—bone-dry.
Arousal.But mostly panic.
He wanted to stop her.To yank her out from under that desk and demand what the hell she thought she was doing—
But he couldn't.Not with Ms. Kim right there.
"—I emailed the updated PDF to Whitmore," she continued, oblivious. "Of course, he hasn't opened it yet. Classic."
He gave a jerky nod. "Right. He's always behind." His voice cracked like glass under tension.
Lara's hand was on his knee now. Resting. Warm. Real.
Then it crept higher.
Deliberate.
A trail of heat rising with every inch.
No.No, no—God, please stop—
He shifted, subtly. A lean back. A crossed leg. A desperate, wordless signal.She didn't stop.
She only adjusted.Slid higher.Palm gliding against the inside of his thigh now, dangerously close to—
His spine locked. His cock throbbed against the constraint of his pants.He grit his teeth.
Not here.Not now.
He forced a cough, too loud. "Sorry," he said, voice hoarse. "Choked on… nothing."Lara's fingers paused. Then resumed, bolder. Exploring.
Kim offered a light laugh. "Happens."
She doesn't know.If she leaned even a little—If she dropped a pen—If Lara moved an inch too far—
He would be ruined.
He dropped a hand casually beneath the table, pretending to brush a paper off his lap—then grabbed Lara's wrist.
Tight.A warning.Stop.
She froze. But didn't pull away.Didn't move.Just waited.Her hand still warm on his thigh.
Kim turned the page. "So, I'll leave the forms with you. Just sign and send them back by Thursday?"
"Absolutely," he croaked.His face burned.
She gave him a quizzical smile. "You sure you're okay? You look a little flushed."
"I'm fine."
"You want coffee or something?"
"No," he said too quickly. "Just… need a breather."
She chuckled, standing and stretching her arms overhead.
His breath caught.Her foot shifted closer to the desk—closer to Lara.
Don't look down. Please don't look down.
But she didn't.
She gathered her papers, gave a final wave, and slipped out the door humming softly.
The door clicked shut.
And he exhaled—All at once.A long, ragged breath of pent-up dread.
Then he looked down.
Lara was already watching him.
Eyes wide. Lashes fluttering.Her hand still on his thigh.
And her lips curled—Just slightly.A secret. A tease. A threat.
"Did I scare you?" she whispered.