Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Chapter 52
SOPHIA
We stared at each other for a long, awkward moment. She looked polished and professional in a white blouse and pencil skirt, her light brown hair styled perfectly, carrying what looked like reports or presentations.
"Sophia!" She recovered first, her smile friendly but with an edge I couldn't quite identify. "What are you doing here?"
The question felt invasive, like I needed permission to visit my own husband's office. I forced myself to smile back.
"Bringing Lucas lunch. He has a long meeting this afternoon."
Something flickered across Sofia's face—satisfaction, maybe, or smugness. "Oh, didn't he tell you? We already have lunch plans. There's a meeting at twelve that's expected to run long, so we're ordering in. Italian, I think. He mentioned loving Italian food."
The casual way she said "we" made something ugly twist in my stomach. The implication that she knew Lucas's food preferences. That they had plans together. That she was part of his daily life in ways I wasn't.
I could have backed down. Could have made an excuse and left. Could have let Sofia's implicit message land—that she was closer to Lucas than I was, that she had access I didn't, that maybe I should be worried about how much time they spent together.
But something in me snapped.
Maybe it was the stress of the past week. Maybe it was the exhaustion of playing the perfect wife while dying inside. Maybe it was just that I was sick of being scared all the time—scared of losing Lucas, scared of losing this life, scared of going back to sleeping under bridges with my brother.
Whatever it was, it made me reckless.
"Well," I said, my voice honey-sweet, "I'm also here for some other wifely duties. You know, the kind that happen in private offices with locked doors." I leaned closer conspiratorially. "Office sex. Very thrilling. I'm sure you wouldn't mind giving us some privacy, considering we're married and all."
Sofia's face went through several expressions—shock, fury, something that looked like hatred—before settling on a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Of course," she said through gritted teeth. "How lovely for you both."
The elevator dinged, announcing the executive floor. I stepped out first, walking toward Lucas's office with Sofia trailing behind me. I could feel her glare burning into my back.
What had I just done? I'd basically declared war on a woman who worked with my husband daily. Who probably had his ear in ways I didn't. Who could make things very difficult for me if she wanted to.
But I was so tired of being scared. So tired of tiptoeing around my own marriage.
I knocked once on Lucas's office door, then walked in without waiting for a response.
Lucas looked up from his desk, and his entire face transformed when he saw me. Pure joy, unguarded and genuine.
"Sophia!" He was around the desk in seconds, pulling me into his arms for a kiss that made my toes curl. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Adam?"
"Everything's fine. I brought you lunch." I held up the containers. "I know you have that meeting—"
"Mr. Davenport," Sofia's voice cut in from the doorway, cold and professional. "I have those reports you requested. We should review them before the twelve o'clock meeting."
Lucas's expression shifted—irritation flickering across his features. "Sofia, can this wait? I'm with my wife."
"It's time-sensitive," she pressed. "The board needs—"
"Lucas," I interrupted, surprising myself with my boldness. I set the food containers down and moved closer to him, running my hand up his chest. "Remember what I said in the elevator? About office sex?"
His eyes went dark, pupils dilating. "Sophia—"
"I've been thinking about it all week. You, me, your desk." I stood on my toes to whisper in his ear, loud enough that I knew Sofia could hear. "I want you to fuck me right here. Right now. Make me scream your name where anyone could hear."
I felt him harden against me immediately. Heard his sharp intake of breath.
"Sofia," he said, his voice rough, not taking his eyes off me. "Leave. Now. Make sure no one disturbs us for the next hour."
"But the meeting—"
"Will wait." He was already backing me toward his desk, his hands on my waist. "Close the door on your way out. And if anyone interrupts us, you're fired."
I glanced over Lucas's shoulder just in time to see Sofia's expression—pure fury, barely contained rage, her hands clenched so tight her knuckles were white. Our eyes met for just a second, and I saw the promise there: This isn't over.
Then Lucas was kissing me, fierce and possessive, and I heard the door slam shut.
"Jesus Christ, Sophia," he groaned against my mouth. "Do you have any idea what you just did to me?"
"Show me," I challenged, and that was all it took.
His hands were everywhere—unbuttoning my dress, sliding under my legs to lift me onto his desk, scattering papers and pens everywhere. He kissed me like he was starving, like the few hours we'd been apart had been torture.
"Here?" he asked, even as he was pushing my dress up around my waist. "You want to do this here? Where my entire company could find out?"
"Yes," I gasped as his fingers found me already wet. "God, yes. Lucas, please—"
He groaned and dropped to his knees, and I barely had time to process what he was doing before his mouth was on me. I bit down on my hand to muffle my cry, remembering we were in an office building, that people were just outside, that Sofia might still be close enough to hear.
The thought should have mortified me. Instead, it made everything more intense.
Lucas worked me with his tongue and fingers until I was shaking, teetering on the edge. Then he stood, unzipped his pants, and thrust inside me in one smooth motion that made me see stars.
"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead pressed to mine. "Sophia, you feel—God, you feel perfect—"