LOGINHarper’s hand moving to wrap around Oliver’s hard erection. “I did not think you would be so... Big,” she added softly. Oliver’s icy blue eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as her hand wrapped around his erection, the warmth and pressure of her touch sending sparks of pleasure through his entire body. He let out a low, guttural groan, his hips instinctively buckling forward into her grip. “God, Harper. You have no idea what you do to me,” he breathed out, his voice strained with desire. H
Oliver reaches the elevator first, pressing the button with a sharp click of his finger. The doors slide open, revealing the polished interior. He steps inside and turns to face Harper, his expression once again a mask of professional calm. But as the elevator begins its ascent, his icy blue eyes catching hers in the mirror, and for a split second, that knowing look is returned. “Let’s see how long that lasts,” he says quietly, the words barely audible over the hum of the elevator. The doors open on the executive floor and he steps out. “I am heading to advertisement,” she said casually. “Have a nice day.” She smiled lightly and pressed the button in the elevator. He watches the elevator doors close on her face, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than a casual glance would require. Then he turns and heads toward his office, his mind already shifting, compartmentalizing the warmth of the morning into a neat drawer to be opened later.
“You do not normally drive,” Harper comments. “What did you give your driver the day off?” Oliver keeps his icy blue eyes on the road, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel. He does not offer an explanation immediately, his jaw set in that way that suggests he has already decided. “He is off today,” he says simple, his tone matter of fact. “I needed to be in the right headspace for this meeting. Driving myself helps me focus.” He manoeuvres the car through a tight turn, his movements precise and controlled. The silence between them stretches for a moment before he adds, almost as an afterthought. “Besides, I wanted more time with you this morning.” The professional mask slips just enough for that hint of possessiveness to show through, before he quickly corrects his posture and settles back into his quiet, composed self. Her hand rests on his thigh. “It is a nice change of pace,” she said with a bright
“He knows,” Oliver says, his voice low and steady. “But he is not stupid. He will be watching for any sign of favouritism. If we come in there acting like a team, he might suspect something, but if we present a solid business case, he will be too busy calculating the ROI to care about our personal lives.” He steps closer to Harper, his hand sliding to the small of her back, pulling her just an inch closer. “We keep it strictly professional. No lingering looks, no inside jokes. I will be the demanding boss, and you will be the efficient secretary who just happens to have a brilliant mind for strategy.” his eyes soften as they meet hers. “That is going to be hard,” she comments softly. “I like it when you are all demanding and professional.” His hand on her back tightens for a fraction of a second, his knuckles brushing the fabric of her jacket. A slow, dangerous smirk spreads across his face– the kind he usually saves
“The Love Self Esteem Project,” Oliver repeats, testing the words. “It is a bold move. It would certainly differentiate us from the usual high-glamour, retouch heavy campaigns our competitors are running.” He taps his fingers rhythmically against the countertop, a habit he falls into when he is processing a new strategy. “It would require a completely overhaul of our visual direction. We would need to move away from perfectionism and focus on authenticity. That means no heavy airbrushing, real skin textures, diverse casting– the whole works.” He looks at Harper, his eyes sharp with interest. “It is a significant pivot for our brand identity. It would be a massive undertaking, but the PR benefits could be enormous of we execute it correctly.”“And it could significantly decrease the spending,” Harper added confidently. Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up, and he leans forward, his interest piqued by the financial a
“I was making you breakfast. Eggs and toast? Or do you want something heavier? You look like you could use a large cup of coffee,” Oliver tilts his head, studying Harper’s face to gauge how much energy she actually has this morning. “I slept amazingly,” she said and leans up to kiss him lightly on the lips. “Coffee sounds amazing. So does your breakfast idea.” His smile widens at her kiss, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment longer than necessary before he releases her. “Coming right up,” he says, turning back to the counter with renewed purpose. He moves with practiced efficiency, cracking eggs into a bowl with one hand while the other reaches for two mugs. He pours the coffee, the rich aroma filling the small space, and sets the mugs down on the island near where she is leaning. “Sit. I will bring it over,” he commands gently, nodding toward the bar stools. “I am going to get dressed really quick,&rd
Marius continued into his modern kitchen at the back, where a long dark kitchen island accompanied by several wooden bar stools with black metal lags, separated the living room from the kitchen. Above the island hung three pendant lights with simple elegant fixtures. He opened one of the white cabinetries lining the kitchen wall and took a glass out. Then he moved over to the fridge and poured himself some soda. He moved through his house like ghost. When he entered his bedroom, he did not bother changing out of his dress shirt, simply unbuttoning the top few buttons and pulling his phone from his pocket. He walked over to his bed as he looked to see if her had any messages or emails. The bed was unmade, with soft grey bedding and several pillows loosely arranged across the mattress. Large black metal window frames dominate the right side of the room and heavy dark grey curtains hang from ceiling-mounted tracks.A light grey area rug extends beneath the bed and along the left
Oliver’s expression softened further, a rare warmth entering his icy blue eyes. He watched the way her hand instinctively went to her cheek, the nervous gesture only making her more endearing. “Clubbing,” he repeated with a dismissive wave of his hand. “That is what people in their twenties do. The
A small, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of Oliver’s mouth as she suggested a cafe mocha for tomorrow. The idea of another deviation from his usual black coffee routine seemed to amuse him in a way he rarely allowed himself. “Cafe mocha, huh?” he repeated, his voice losing some of its
Over time Oliver notices Harper’s presence more and more. He notices how she handles her tasks with efficiency and grace. He notices her attention to detail and how skilled she was at organizing. As time went on, his interest in her became less professional, he began to wonder about her dreams and
Harper Miller had always been a little too nerdy, despite her attractive appearance. She had always preferred order to chaos. Books over parties. And work over vacations. Her parents were constantly pushing her to go out and socialize more; her peers were always inviting her out to movie nights and







