Chapter 12 FORBIDDEN OVERTIME
Sam's POV
It started with the little things, things neither of us admitted out loud for months. But it went on, and we both enjoyed it secretly.
Mia and I had been paired on the biggest account of the year: a brutal, high-stakes with risks that kept us in the office until midnight most nights. We were the last two on the floor a lot of times, surrounded by coffee cups, red-lined decks, computers, and dispensers.
At first, it was professional, nothing more. She would lean over my shoulder to point out a data error, her hair brushing my cheek, the faint scent of her perfume, which usually makes me lose focus. I would catch myself watching the way her glasses slid down her nose when she was deep concentrating during a meeting, how she bit her lower lip when she was thinking hard.
Mia was gorgeous, dimples formed on her cheeks when she smiled, she was on the slim side but curvy and surprisingly had big breasts. I had a wife suddenly becoming oversized after one kid. I no longer found her attractive enough, the sex has been bad, my cock refusing to stand each time we got into fore play.
Mia's POV
I noticed sam my teammate, the way he stared at me, always checking me out each time I walk past, he's been overly nice, taking up some of my workload, rushing to get me coffee if I dared yawn.
I love the attention it was more than what I got from my husband, I knew Sam was married. I'm pretty sure not happily, because most of the time he came in angry at someone. But his face lights up each time he sees me. He was into me. I knew it, I knew that look when a man wants you. And maybe I want him too, not just him, his cock.
One night we were working late, around 2 a.m., the power went off and the emergency lights kicked on. We were alone, working, running on caffeine and adrenaline. Sam brought in different flavours earlier today, how sweet. I looked up from my laptop, I was tired from being active. I looked at him
“You ever think we’re going to die in this building?” I asked, my voice husky from too many hours talking.
He laughed. Sweet calmly sound “If we do, at least we’ll go out with a killer deck.”
I smirked, stretched my arms over my head, my blouse pulling tight across my chest. “Speak for yourself. I plan on getting laid at least once before the reaper shows up.” That was a joke to him. But I meant it, I needed to get laid, my husband just climbs me, 4 seconds 20 seconds he's done and I feel nothing.
Sam's Pov
The air shifted then. Just a fraction. But I felt it. I understood the message she sent, I was glad I wasn't the only one who thought so.
After that night, the tension built like a slow storm.
I noticed she started wearing skirts that hugged her hips a little closer, blouses that were too revealing, and I stopped pretending I wasn’t staring when she bent over the printer. We would brush our hands passing a marker, and neither of us pulled away fast enough. I was feeling some sparks within me. Late-night takeout turned into sharing bites from the same container, her fingers brushing my lips when she fed me a piece of fries.
On Thursday, the rest of the team went out early for drinks. Mia stayed back. I stayed.
We were arguing over font size, stupid, pointless shit when she snapped, “You’re hard to deal with, you know that?”
I leaned in, closer than I needed to be. “And you’re a control freak who won’t admit when she’s wrong.”
Her eyes went to my lips. “Maybe I just like watching you get worked up.”
I didn’t move back. “Careful, Mia. If you keep talking like that I might think you want me worked up.”
She didn’t blink. She came closer. “Maybe I do.” Our almost touching, I could feel her hot breath on mine.
That was the first time we almost kissed. We didn’t. She pulled back at the last second, muttered something about needing to use the washroom, and disappeared down the hall. It was like we were given green cards, the touches got bolder. My hand on the small of her back guiding her through the door. Her knee pressing against mine under the conference table during client calls. The way she would lean over me to pick the projector remote, her breast brushing my shoulder, staying there for some seconds.
We started texting after work hours. Innocent at first, just slide feedback, confirming a file name, data questions. Then it got flirty.
Mia (1:14 a.m.): Can’t sleep. Still thinking about that transition on page 17.
Me (1:17 a.m.): Bullshit. You’re thinking about something else. What's on your mind?
Mia(1:20 a.m.): You'll soon know. What are you wearing?
Me (1:21 a.m.): Nothing. You?
Mia (1:23 a.m.): Wouldn’t you like to know.
I was surprised at her response, it sounded like an invitation.We never followed through. Not yet. But the longing was there now, we both felt it each time we were in the same room. Until the night the pitch was finally locked.
The deck was done. Client presentation at 9 a.m. sharp. Everyone else had gone home hours ago to rest. Mia and I stayed to run one final rehearsal.
We were in the big conference room, glass walls, long table, city lights glowing thirty floors below. She was pacing in front of the projector, clicking through slides, her voice steady and graceful as she practiced her part.
I watched her move. She was confident, sharp, sexy as hell in that fitted black skirt and silk blouse, heels clicking on the hardwood. I was listening but my mind was undressing her, wondering if she was a lacy lady or a g-string lady.
When she finished, she turned to me. “Your turn.”
“Uh..” I stood, walked to the front, but I didn’t start talking. Instead I stopped right in front of her.
Close enough to feel the heat coming off her body.
Close enough to see her breath catch.
“Say it,” I said, voice low. She knew exactly what I meant. We didn't have to pretend.
Her eyes flicked to my mouth. “We shouldn’t Sam, I'm married.”
“Happily?” I went closer, pressed my chest against her massive breast. “Well..urm yeah” She stuttered.
I stared deeply into her eyes, searching, desire in them, “Sexually?”
“Sam, are you serious right now.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She swallowed. “I want you Sam, fill my pussy up the bad bad way.”