She pretends to study the papers on his desk, but her body leans just a little further than necessary. The faint scent of her perfume drifts toward him, daring him to notice. His wedding ring gleams in the light, and instead of pushing her back, it makes her heart race—because she knows that ring means he belongs to someone else, and still she has him this close. Her breath brushes the side of his cheek when she asks a question she already knows the answer to.
The space between them shrinks until it no longer feels like a mistake. He lowers his eyes but doesn’t move away, and she takes that silence as permission. Her hand lingers too long when she slides the file toward him, her fingers almost grazing his. She tells herself it’s just a small thrill, harmless, but the pounding in her chest betrays that it’s more. The ring on his hand is no barrier—it is a spark that makes her bold.
By the time she straightens up, it’s already too late—her closeness has been felt, her warmth has been tasted in the air between them. She walks away slowly, letting her hips sway with unspoken invitation. And though he doesn’t say a word, she can feel his eyes following, the weight of his restraint mixing with the heavy promise of what could happen if either of them leaned in just one inch more.