LOGINHarper moaned as he pushed deeper and deeper inside her. Oliver’s breath caught in his throat as her moan filled the room, the sound vibrating directly against his ear. Each inch he sank deeper into her warmth felt like coming home, a physical confirmation of everything he had been craving. “Jesus Christ,” he gritted out, his forehead resting against hers as he paused to catch his breath. “You are so tight around me. It is incredible.” His hands tightened on her
Marius took the takeaway latte from Tera, the warmth seeping into his palm. “Not much,” he admitted, pulling out his chair and sinking into it. Tera’s gaze lingered on his for a second too long before she straightened up. “This campaign,” Tera started. “Is it going to be a long one?” he took a slow sip of the latte, the caffeine hitting his system with a sharp jolt. He set the cup down on his desk and leaned back, tapping his pen against his chin. “Knox is driving it,” he said, referring to the Scottish designer. “He has got big ideas for this campaign, so it might stretch out longer than we originally planner. He wants to push the boundaries with the visuals.” Tera nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “Knox. Right. I have heard he can be… demanding.”“You have no idea,” Marius muttered, a faint weary smile tugging at his lips. “But he knows what he wants, and that make
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
“Caveman Oliver is kind of hot,” she admitted seductively. Oliver’s icy blue eyes darkened instantly at her seductive admission, the last remnants of his embarrassment evaporating completely. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he backed her against the closed front door, caging
“Whoa,” Glen said in amazement as his gaze roamed over Oliver’s shiftless form. Oliver’s icy blue eyes narrowed instantly at the way Glen’s gaze roamed appreciatively over his bare chest. The other man’s obvious appreciation only fueled the fire of jealousy burning in his gut. “Can I help you?” O
“Tell me his name. I want to know who has access to bring my girlfriend clothes when she stays over,” Oliver demanded softly when he finally pulled back for air. “Glen,” Harper muttered and continued kissing him, he fingers running through his wild black hair, gently. Oliver’s entire body went st
“Noted, healthy stuff, fruits, veggies… and nuts. Got it. I will make sure we are never short on snacks for my girlfriend.” He said with a nod. The word ‘girlfriend’ slipped out naturally this time, feeling less foreign on his tongue now that the reality of their relationship had settled in overn







