Page 10 of Thirst Trap
His voice was low, gruff. She watched him fumble the lid, nearly spilling it.
Cute.
She turned, sauntered back out, swinging her hips more than necessary then bent too far over the copy machine, her skirt riding just high enough.
She didn't need to check.
He was watching.
***
He was absolutely watching.
She was chaotic. She was confident. She was in trouble.
And that voice.
Lucas gripped the edge of his desk, pulse unsteady. She looked exactly like her. And when she smiled, it was like his DMs had crawled out of the screen and materialized in front of him.
No. That was insane.
Wasn't it?
Still, later when she leaned over his desk, tapping her pen against his paperwork, skirt high, scar peeking out his brain completely short circuited.
"So... you gonna train me? Or just sit there looking pretty?" she asked with a sly grin. Lucas swallowed hard. "I'll... I'll email you the onboarding folder."
"That's not what I meant," she said, her smirk sharpening.
And then she was gone, hips swaying, leaving him wrecked in silence.
His phone buzzed.
Instagram.
A new DM.
From booklover69:
Miss me?
Lucas rubbed his face with both hands.
This was fine. Totally fine.
...Right?
Chapter 6
Staff Room Intel
The employee staff room was a weird little small zone between chaos and caffeine, broken vending machines, mismatched mugs, and the kind of buzzing overhead lights that screamed you're underpaid.
Maddison, all legs and attitude in a curve hugging dress and oversized cardigan, flopped dramatically onto the old suede sofa like it was a throne. She stretched with a yawn that conveniently drew every eye in the room.
"So," she said loudly, sipping her lukewarm tea, "anyone wanna tell me what the hell I just walked into working for Lucas Creams? Because my last job involved a sleazy boss and a broken printer. Now I've got a CEO who glares like I stole his soul."
A few chuckles rippled around the room. The PR intern Francesca, who always wore sunglasses indoors tilted her head.
