Susan
It had been a week. Seven excruciatingly long days. The first two days were manageable—or so I convinced myself. After our conversation where I made it clear last week that whatever happened between us was a mistake, Elliot had taken me at my word. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like. He didn’t stop by my office. He didn’t acknowledge my presence when we passed each other in the hall. But by day three, things started to change. I walked into work that morning, coffee in hand, only to find a note on my desk from Gerald. “Please see me immediately regarding your office assignment.” What on earth? When I arrived at his office, Gerald greeted me with that ever-present, professional smile of his. “Good morning, Ms Hart. I hope you’re doing well,” he began, his tone overly chipper. I raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. “What’s this about my office assignment?” “Ah, yes. There’s been a change,” he said, sliding a folder across his desk toward me. “Mr. Prescott has decided it’s best to relocate your office to the marketing department’s wing. It’s a better fit, considering your role as the marketing manager.” I blinked at him, stunned. “Gerald, my office has always been on the executive floor. It’s close to all the decision-makers, and it’s convenient for meetings and briefings. Especially since I haven't completed my contract yet. Why would I be moved now?” He hesitated for a split second, then replied, “This came directly from Mr. Prescott. He believes it’s a more strategic placement.” Strategic placement? The phrase rolled around in my head as I left his office, clutching the folder that outlined my “new” office details. By the time I reached my desk, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to scream, cry, or march straight to Elliot’s office and demand an explanation. But I did none of those things. Instead, I packed up my things in silence as the facilities team arrived to help with the move. I kept my head down, refusing to meet the curious gazes of my colleagues. I couldn’t let them see how much this bothered me. The new office was fine. Spacious, even. But it wasn’t my office. It was on a completely different floor, far away from the executive suite where all the important decisions were made. And most importantly, it was far away from Elliot. I couldn’t help but feel like this was intentional. Was this his way of punishing me? Of putting distance between us after I’d pushed him away? By day five, the silence from Elliot had grown unbearable. He walked past me in the hallway that morning without so much as a glance in my direction. It was like I didn’t exist. At first, I tried to convince myself that this was what I wanted. After all, I had been the one to insist that our night together was a mistake. I had been the one to draw the line. But now, sitting in my new office, isolated from everything I’d grown used to, I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in my chest. I missed him. That night, I sat in my apartment, staring blankly at my laptop screen. I’d spent the entire week trying to focus on my work, trying to prove that I didn’t need Elliot Prescott’s approval or attention to succeed. But no matter how hard I tried, he was always there. In the back of my mind. Every time I thought about the way he’d touched me, the way he’d looked at me that night, my stomach twisted into knots. And now, he was acting like none of it had ever happened. What hurt the most was the realization that I wanted him to care. I wanted him to fight for me, to prove that I wasn’t just another passing interest. Instead, he’d done the exact opposite. By the weekend, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stared at my phone, debating whether to text him. But every time I started typing, I deleted the message. What would I even say? “Hi, Elliot. Just wanted to know why you’ve decided to act like I don’t exist after moving my office to another floor?” Ridiculous. Instead, I poured myself a glass of wine and curled up on the couch, letting my thoughts spiral. Why had he changed so suddenly? Why had I let myself care so much in the first place? Somewhere deep down, I already knew the answer. I didn’t just miss him. I craved him.ElliotI was losing it.The scotch in my glass swirled as I tilted it, staring at the amber liquid like it held the answers to all my problems. The warm burn was supposed to drown the thoughts I couldn’t shake—the memory of her, of Susan, in my bed. Her voice, her scent, the way she looked at me before melting into my touch.A mistake, she’d called it.The very word churned in my chest like a twisted blade. If it was such a mistake, why couldn’t I stop thinking about her? Why couldn’t I get her out of my head?I tipped the glass to my lips, draining it in one go. The alcohol barely numbed the ache. I’d tried everything to distract myself this past week—work, late nights, even moving her office to another floor. I thought space would give me clarity, would make her absence easier to bear.It hadn’t.I wanted her.Not just in the fleeting, surface way I’d wanted women before. This was different. It was consuming. Primal. The things I wanted to do to her… God, they were filthy.I closed
Elliot⁰She lay beneath me, her body warm and soft against mine, her breaths still uneven from the storm we’d just weathered together. Her hair was a wild mess against the cushions, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim light of my living room.But I couldn’t look away from her lips—swollen and glistening, slightly parted as she caught her breath.I wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot.My body was still taut with need, the evidence of my desire pressing against her thigh, making it impossible to ignore.As if sensing my thoughts, her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. There was something in her gaze—something raw and unguarded that made my chest tighten.But I didn’t let myself linger on it. Not now.Instead, I leaned down, brushing my lips against hers in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened, growing more urgent with each passing second.Her soft moan as I kissed her sent a shiver down my spine, spurring me on.I trailed my lips down her jawline, my stubble grazing
Susan When I woke up, the sun's rays were sneaking through the curtains, illuminating Elliot's bedroom. My body felt heavy and… sore. Oh God. Memories of last night flashed through my mind like a steamy montage I wished I could forget but couldn’t. My cheeks burned as I turned to see him beside me, sleeping soundly with his arm draped over my waist. I bit my lip, trying not to panic, but panic was brewing anyway. What the hell did I just do? My chest tightened with embarrassment. What was worse? The fact that I had let myself lose control or that it had been with Elliot Prescott? Trying to move carefully, I slipped out of his grasp, grabbed his shirt from the floor, and tiptoed to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. "What are you doing, Susan?" I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. "This is dangerous. This man could ruin you if you're not careful." I took a deep breath, trying to calm my spiraling thoughts. It wasn’t
ElliotWaking up, I instinctively reached out, expecting to find her warm presence beside me. But the bed was empty, and for a moment, I frowned. Then it all came rushing back: the way her lips trembled against mine, how her body yielded to my touch, and the fire in her eyes when she let go of every defense.I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face. Last night was perfect, and yet, she wanted to keep it a secret.I understood her concerns—hell, I did—but I wasn’t exactly the kind of man who could simply pretend. Every time I looked at her now, all I’d see was how her back arched, how her nails dug into my skin as she whispered my name like it was her only prayer.I wasn’t built for playing it cool.Still, for Susan, I’d try. At least for now.That didn’t mean I wouldn’t remind her. Subtlety wasn’t my strong suit, but I could adapt when needed.The day at the office was long, and without her in close proximity, it was unbearable. She was still setting up in her newly customized space—a
ElliotThe storm outside rattled the windows, but the sound was nothing compared to the storm inside me. I couldn’t take my eyes off Susan as she moved around her small but cozy apartment, trying to act casual. It was a futile attempt...she was as affected as I was.Her laughter was strained when she commented on the rain. “Looks like you’re stuck here for a while, Elliot. You can’t possibly drive in this weather.”“Oh no,” I teased, leaning against the counter. “Trapped in your apartment? However will I survive?”She rolled her eyes, but I caught the faint blush creeping up her neck. She was beautiful when she was flustered...her guard slipping, revealing the vulnerability she worked so hard to hide.“I’ll make coffee,” she mumbled, avoiding my gaze as she busied herself in the kitchen.But I couldn’t just stand there and let her deflect. I stepped closer, invading her space, until I was just behind her. Her hand faltered as she reached for the coffee jar, and I could hear her breath
Susan The second I shut the door, I barely had time to breathe before Elliot was on me. His lips crashed against mine, urgent and demanding, as if he had been starving for this moment just as much as I had. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me so close I could feel every hard inch of him pressing against me.A soft whimper escaped my lips when his fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss. His tongue swept inside my mouth, teasing and claiming, and I melted against him, my body betraying me with how desperately I needed him.He groaned into my mouth. "You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.I gasped as he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as if it were second nature. My fingers dug into his shoulders, my lips trailing down his jaw, nipping at his skin as he carried me toward the couch. But before we could reach it, he turned, pressing me against the wall instead, his body caging
SusanI stirred my coffee absentmindedly, watching the frothy swirl dissolve into the dark liquid. Across from me, Meera was busy scrolling through her phone, but I knew she was waiting. She always knew when I had something big to say.And this? This was huge.I took a deep breath and blurted it out. “Elliot asked me to marry him.”Meera’s fingers froze mid-scroll. Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes widening in shock. “Excuse me?”I pursed my lips, gripping my cup like it was the only thing keeping me from spiraling. “Yeah. You heard me.”She blinked. Then blinked again. And then... “Oh my God.”I braced myself as she leaned forward, practically vibrating with excitement. “Tell me everything. When? Where? How? And why the hell are you not wearing a ring yet?”I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “It happened last night… after we… you know.”“Oh-ho,” she smirked, wiggling her brows. “After a little ‘I can’t keep my hands off you’ session? That man is dangerous.”I rolled my ey
Elliot’s Perspective – My Mother Wants to Meet Susan I should have expected this. The moment my mother pursed her lips at dinner, I knew she wouldn’t let it go. She wasn’t the type to accept something just because I said so—especially not when it came to my love life. So when she called me into her private study the next morning, I already knew where the conversation was headed. I shut the heavy mahogany door behind me and crossed my arms. “What is it, Mother?” She was seated on her pristine white couch, legs crossed, a cup of tea in her manicured hands. Her posture was regal, as always. Cold. Calculating. “I want to meet her,” she said without preamble. I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “No.” Her brows lifted. “No?” “You heard me,” I said. “Susan doesn’t need to be subjected to one of your tests.” She sighed, setting down her teacup. “Elliot, don’t be ridiculous. She’s about to marry into this family. It’s only natural that I meet her.” “No, what’s natural
Elliot I sat across from my mother in the grand dining hall of the Prescott estate, the tension so thick it felt like the walls were closing in. The candlelight flickered between us, casting sharp shadows over her cold, unreadable expression. I had been summoned...no, commanded...for this private dinner, and I already knew what it was about. “Susan Hart,” she said, swirling her wine glass as if savoring the taste of my impending obedience. “She’s still lingering around you. why?” I took a deep breath, keeping my jaw tight. “She’s not lingering, Mother. She’s my fiancée.” my mother’s grip tightened around the glass, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the crystal. “Then break it off,” she said smoothly, as if she were canceling a bad investment. “You’ve had your fun, but this needs to end. Now.” I let out a dry chuckle, shaking my head. “You really don’t get it, do you? I love her.” “Love?” she scoffed. “You call it love when a woman accepts money to walk away from you
ElliotHer confession shattered every restraint I had left.She didn’t want to leave me.And I was damn sure she was going to remember that.I didn’t give her a chance to overthink, didn’t let her retreat back into her walls. Instead, I crashed my lips against hers, pouring every bit of frustration, longing, and raw need into that kiss.Susan gasped into my mouth, and I took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, my tongue sweeping in to claim hers. She melted into me, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt like she was afraid I’d disappear.Not a damn chance.I pressed her back against the mattress, my body settling between her legs. She moaned as my hand slid under the hem of her dress, tracing up the smooth expanse of her thigh.“Elliot...”“Shh,” I murmured against her lips. “No more running.”I kissed her harder, biting down on her lower lip before soothing it with my tongue. Her hands tugged at my shirt, and I sat up just long enough to yank it over my head, tossing it aside.
SusanWarmth. That’s what I felt first. Not just physical warmth but something deeper, something safe. My head was heavy, my body sluggish, but I knew I wasn’t alone. A familiar scent wrapped around me...clean, musky, undeniably him.I blinked, trying to orient myself. Dim lighting, soft sheets, a quiet hum of the city beyond the windows, this wasn’t my apartment.It was Elliot’s.Panic jolted through me, but before I could sit up, a deep voice cut through the haze.“You’re awake.”I turned my head, and there he was, sitting at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped. He looked… exhausted. Like he hadn’t slept. Like I was the reason he hadn’t.Memories from earlier flooded back. The restaurant, Manuel, the alcohol, my stupid, pathetic breakdown. I closed my eyes briefly, humiliation creeping up my spine.“Why am I here?” I croaked.“You got drunk,” he said simply. “Manuel called me.”I winced, Manuel. He had seen me unravel, spilling my sorrows like a despe
Susan The wine burned as it slid down my throat, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I stared at the half-empty glass in my hand, swirling the deep red liquid mindlessly. The restaurant was dimly lit, filled with soft laughter and the clinking of glasses. But to me, it was just noise...a dull hum in the background of the storm raging inside me. I had told myself not to drink too much tonight. That I needed to keep my composure, to stay strong. But strength had abandoned me weeks ago. Across the table, Manuel sat, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “You don’t have to keep drinking,” he said gently. I let out a humorless laugh, setting the glass down. “Oh, Manuel. That’s where you’re wrong.” His brow furrowed. “Susan...” “I don’t want to think anymore,” I cut in, my voice raw. “I don’t want to feel.” I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. My vision blurred slightly, and I blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. “I ha
Susan I barely had a moment to breathe after Manuel’s cryptic words before my phone buzzed.Elliot: Come outside. Now.My stomach twisted. I could already imagine his expression...dark, possessive, barely holding his temper in check.Sighing, I grabbed my coat and stepped out of the building. The moment I stepped out of the building, I spotted Elliot leaning against his car, arms crossed, his entire posture radiating controlled fury. The city lights reflected in his sharp eyes, and as I walked toward him, I braced myself for the storm that was about to come.“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” His voice was low, but the anger in it was unmistakable.I exhaled, already exhausted. “Not tonight, Elliot.”He pushed off the car, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “Not tonight? Are you serious? You think I’m just going to stand by and watch while Fernandez treats you like some prize he’s about to claim?”I let out a bitter laugh. “So that’s what this is about? Jealousy?”His jaw
Susan The air in the office had become suffocating, thick with tension I couldn’t shake off. Every time I glanced up from my desk, I felt Elliot’s eyes on me, watching, scrutinizing, like he was waiting for me to slip up. It was like walking a tightrope, trying to balance my work with Manuel while keeping Elliot from spiraling into another jealous fit. But the worst part? I understood where Elliot was coming from. Because even I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with Manuel Fernandez. We had our first one-on-one session scheduled for the afternoon. I tried to convince myself it was just business—nothing more, nothing less. But the moment Manuel walked into the room, I felt that familiar pull, the nagging memory I’d tried to bury. “Susan,” he greeted me with that smooth, accented voice, his dark eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t quite place. “It’s good to see you again.” I forced a polite smile. “You too, Mr. Fernandez.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Still formal,
Elliot I wasn’t proud of it, but jealousy had a way of sinking its claws deep into me. It wasn’t just about Susan working with Manuel Fernandez—it was the way the guy looked at her, like she was some kind of muse he’d been searching for his whole life. And I knew that look. I’d worn it the first time I realized Susan Hart wasn’t just another woman. She was the woman. I stared at the reports on my desk, but none of the numbers made sense. Hell, I couldn’t even focus. All I could think about was the way Manuel leaned in a little too close during meetings, his dark eyes lingering on Susan like he had every right to. The office door creaked open, and Adrian sauntered in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “You look like hell,” he announced, plopping into the chair opposite me. “What’s eating you now?” I didn’t answer right away, just poured us both a drink from the decanter on my desk. The burn of the whiskey wasn’t enough to chase away the frustration gnawing at my insides. Adr
Susan I should’ve known Elliot wouldn’t let it go. His jealousy simmered just beneath the surface, peeking through every time Manuel’s name came up. But what could I say? I couldn’t exactly blame him. If the roles were reversed, I might’ve felt the same. But the thing is, Manuel wasn’t just some artist. He was a man with a past...a past that intertwined with mine in a way I hadn’t fully processed until now. The next morning, I walked into the office, balancing a coffee in one hand and my laptop in the other. The moment I stepped into the meeting room, Manuel was already there, his dark eyes tracking my every movement. “Good morning, Susan,” he greeted, his lips curling into that same enigmatic smile he always wore. “Morning, Mr. Fernandez,” I replied, keeping my tone professional, even though my mind flashed back to the rooftop. To that day. It was years ago, but the memory was sharp...like the first cut of glass against skin. I’d been on my way home from class, cutting through
Elliot The moment I stepped out of that conference room, my blood was boiling hotter than it had in years. I couldn’t get the image of Manuel’s smug face out of my head, nor the way his eyes lingered on Susan like she was some kind of unfinished masterpiece he couldn’t wait to touch up. I stormed into my office, slamming the door harder than necessary. My chest tightened with every breath, and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely out of control. Susan...my Susan...had history with this guy. And not just any history, but the kind that left marks, invisible yet undeniable. I didn’t give a damn about business deals or brand endorsements anymore. Manuel Fernandez had crossed a line, and I wasn’t about to sit back and watch him worm his way into Susan’s life. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my messages until I found Adrian’s name. If anyone could talk some sense into me...or at least help me plot revenge...it was him. Need a drink. Now. His response was immed