Ada’s eyes lingered on Kunle as he worked, the rhythmic clatter of his keyboard filling the room. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing strong, toned forearms that added to his effortless appeal. The glasses resting low on his nose framed his sharp features, and the faint scruff along his jaw gave him an edge that made her stomach flutter.
“You’re staring. Don’t make me come over there,” Kunle said, his deep, velvety voice cutting through the silence. He didn’t look up, but the slight curve of his lips betrayed his amusement.
“What! No… I’m not,” Ada stammered, cheeks flushing as she stood by the office printer, clutching a stack of freshly printed papers.
Kunle finally glanced at her, and her pulse jumped. His eyes, dark and piercing, held hers with an intensity that made her fidget. She quickly turned back to the papers, willing her hands to steady.
“You’re terrible at lying, Ada,” he said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.
She gripped the papers tighter, drawing a deep breath. “And you’re too old to be teasing me,” she shot back, voice unsteady.
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he stood.
“Too old?” he repeated, towering over her. At six-four, he dwarfed her petite frame, making her hyper-aware of the space between them, or lack of it, as he moved closer. “Ada, you’re twenty-five. You’re a grown woman, not some teenager. And I’m forty, not a hundred.”
“That’s nearly two decades between us,” she murmured as he stopped, now standing in front of her.
“Is it?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Because around you, it doesn’t feel so.”
The air between them thickened. His hand lifted, fingers grazing her cheek, warm and deliberate.
She hated how easily he unravelled her, how one look from him could scatter the walls she carefully built.
Ada’s breath hitched. Her gaze flicked to his lips, hovering inches from hers. She had to tilt her chin to meet him, her body responding before her mind could protest. She’d lost count of how many times their eyes had met across desks, words left unsaid.
“Kunle…” she began, her voice barely audible.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, soft but commanding.
She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Instead, her lips brushed his, tentative and unsure. The kiss deepened quickly, pulling her into him. Her hands pressed lightly against the broad expanse of his chest. He was solid and steady, grounding her even as her thoughts spun.
When they finally broke apart, Ada’s breathing was shallow, her heart pounding against her ribs. Kunle’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, his thumb grazing her jaw before he pulled back. Just slightly. Still too close.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” she whispered, darting a glance around the office.
This was reckless, she thought. If they got caught, they could both get fired.
“You’re right,” he replied, playful but smouldering. He straightened, returning to his desk.
“Finish your work,” he added, throwing her a wink that sent her stomach tumbling.
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came.
“And then,” he continued, voice softer now, “we can go somewhere more… appropriate.” His gaze caught hers again, hot and unreadable, full of unspoken promise.
Ada swallowed, heart racing, a smile tugging at her lips as the thrill of what came next bloomed inside her.