Page 41 of Kisses and Paperclips

Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and burning with questions she didn’t ask.

We were standing too close. Breathing the same air and caught in a moment that had no business happening here, but I didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

“We’re in my office,” she whispered, like she was reminded herself more than me.

Her voice was unraveling. Breathless and thin, every rise of her chest gave her away.

Her gaze dropped to my mouth and lingered. That was the green light. The open door. The whispered don’t stop she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud.

And I wasn’t about to walk away from it.

She could lie with words. But her body? Her body remembered everything.

I caged her against the desk, one hand sliding into her hair, tilting her face up. “Then you should’ve locked the door.”

Our lips were a breath apart. Her pulse hammered against my thumb where it pressed to her throat. I waited—let her feel it—the tension coiling tighter, hotter, until the air between us was pure static.

Then she snapped.

Her fingers fisted my shirt, yanking me down as she surged up, and—

Fire.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was a reckoning. Her mouth was desperate under mine, teeth clashing, tongues tangling like they’d been starving for this. She moaned, the sound vibrating through me, and I swallowed it whole, backing her into the desk until the files scattered.

Every rational thought burned away. There was only this and her nails scoring my shoulders, my hand gripping her thigh to hike her leg around my hip, the obscene wet sound of our mouths refusing to part.

When I finally tore away, her lips were swollen, her eyes wild. “Still think once was enough?” I rasped.

Her answer was to drag me back in.

But this time, it wasn’t frantic. It was sure and focused.

She kissed me like she meant to forget where we were, who we were pretending to be, and everything that said it wasn’t a good idea.

Her mouth hit mine like a warning and a promise. Raw, wild, and full of want. Like she’d been trying not to feel this for too damn long and finally gave up the fight.

So, I let her.

Let her kiss me like she was unraveling. Let her pour all that heat, all that fight into me like it was the only thing keeping her from breaking. Let her take what she needed even if it meant I wouldn’t walk away from this the same.

Then came the breath, sharp and broken.

She pressed her forehead on my jaw, her grip still tight on my shirt like I was the only solid thing she could hold onto. Her body shook, a little. Enough to tell me this wasn’t just about lust. This was something deeper and buried.

I didn’t speak. Didn’t move, except to slide my hand up her back, enough to steady her. To let her know I was there. Her heartbeat thudded against mine, wild and desperate. Her breath skimmed the side of my neck… warm, uneven, like a secret trying to escape.

And then she said it.

“I hate how much I want you,” she whispered. Her voice hoarse and honest.

I dropped my mouth to her hairline and inhaled. Jasmine, warmth, and something soft I hadn’t meant to crave but somehow couldn’t stop.

“Then hate me,” I murmured. “Just give me this.”

Her hands moved to my shoulders, holding on. No push, no pull. Just… us.

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