First Office Encounter

Emma’s POV

I wasn’t prepared for this. For him.

The moment Killian’s lips crashed against mine last week in my office, something inside me splintered and rearranged itself in ways I couldn’t explain. I told myself it was a lapse in judgment. A one-time weakness. A farewell to the past that had no place in this corporate world.

But I was lying to myself.

Now, I sat at the head of the conference table during a branding meeting, pretending to focus on charts and marketing projections while Killian sat directly across from me, flipping through slides with the cool, calculated confidence that had no business being that attractive.

His sleeves were rolled up. That damn vein on his forearm was mocking me.

“So if we position the relaunch to target Gen Z, we’ll need more digital integration,” Killian said, gesturing to the screen with his pen. “Think video-forward content, influencer tie-ins, and sustainable packaging.”

I nodded stiffly. “Good point. Let’s make sure the budget reflects that. Morgan, work with design to—”

My voice faltered when Killian looked up. Just a glance. That was all it took.

His eyes were dark. Knowing. Heated. The corner of his mouth twitched into the smallest smirk, like he could see right through me. Like he remembered exactly how breathless I’d been when he had me pinned against my office desk days ago.

I nearly dropped my pen.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Emma?” Morgan prompted, clearly waiting for further instruction.

Right. Work. Focus.

“Yeah. Sorry. Let’s meet on that by end of day.” I stood, straightening my pencil skirt like armor. “Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone filed out. Everyone but him.

Of course.

Killian’s POV

I waited until the last person left before leaning back in my chair, arms casually resting behind my head. I didn’t say a word. Just watched her.

Emma stood near the whiteboard, pretending to shuffle papers she didn’t need. Her entire body was tense, her heels clicking nervously on the polished floor.

“Was that a good presentation, Ms. Scott?” I asked, tone lazy, taunting.

She shot me a glare. “You think you’re funny.”

“I think you’re flustered.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” I stood slowly, circling the table. “You’ve been flustered since I walked in on Monday.”

She didn’t move as I approached. Her eyes followed me, sharp and cautious, like she couldn’t decide whether to run or let herself fall.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

“But I am.”

And then, like the fuse we’d been trying to smother finally caught fire, we collided.

I backed her against the wall, our lips meeting with an explosion of want and anger and everything in between. Her fingers clutched at my collar, dragging me closer as our mouths tangled with the urgency of the past and the recklessness of the present.

She was fire beneath my hands.

And I didn’t want to stop.

Emma’s POV

I hated how much I wanted him.

I hated how quickly I surrendered, how familiar his hands felt on my skin, how right his mouth felt on mine.

Killian lifted me onto the conference table in one smooth motion, knocking a stack of folders to the floor. I gasped, half in shock, half in pleasure as his hands slid under my skirt.

“You’re crazy,” I whispered, though I was already undoing his belt.

“I missed you,” he said, voice hoarse. “And I’m not pretending otherwise.”

God help me I missed him too.

The next moments were frantic, hungry, filled with stifled moans and low curses. We moved together like we always had desperate, chaotic, and perfectly in sync.

The forbidden thrill of it—of him taking me in a glass-walled conference room, where anyone could walk by made my pulse race harder.

After, he rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathless, our bodies tangled in the heat of what we never could seem to leave behind.

“This can’t keep happening,” I murmured.

“It will,” he replied. “You know it will.”

And damn him I did.

Later That Night – Killian’s POV

I couldn’t sleep.

Emma haunted every thought. Every glance across the office, every accidental touch, every memory of the past and craving for the future.

And I couldn’t decide if I hated it… or if I was already too far gone.