75
The elevator dinged softly as Amanda and Ericka stepped into the office, heels clicking in perfect sync down the marble floor of the executive wing.
Ericka, as always, was composed—blazer sharp, lips glossed, eyes shielded behind those signature sunglasses she wore like armor.
Amanda followed beside her, tablet in hand, hair swept into a low twist, skirt fluttering just slightly as she moved.
They looked like a power duo.
Untouchable.
Except they weren't.
Not after last night.
The tequila. The tangled limbs on the couch. The breathless laughter that turned into charged silences. Amanda's head resting on Ericka's lap while Ava flipped through the playlist like she owned the room. The intense lovemaking session they had.
That kind of night.
Now it was morning, and the air felt different.
Not bad. Just... tense.
Ericka's office door swung open like a curtain parting on a performance.
"You want coffee?" Amanda asked casually, already halfway to her desk.
"Only if it comes with a damage report," Ericka murmured, removing her sunglasses. "Because I have a feeling we're going to need one."
Before Amanda could reply, Ava appeared.
Walking down the hall like nothing had happened. Headphones in, sunglasses on, iced coffee in one hand, designer tote swinging from her arm like a runway model on break.
She passed them with a nod. Not a glance. Not a smirk. Not even a knowing glint in her eye.
Just a nod.
"Morning," she said, like they were coworkers and not women who'd been half-curled up around each other in bed.
Amanda blinked. "Morning."
Ericka tilted her head slightly, watching Ava's back as she disappeared around the corner.
"Well," she said, folding her arms. "That was a choice."
Amanda turned toward her, brows lifted. "Was that weird? That felt weird."
"Oh, it was absolutely weird." Ericka walked into her office and gestured for Amanda to follow. "Come on. Close the door. We're not doing this in front of the interns."
Amanda slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.
"She just acted like none of it happened," Amanda said, setting her tablet on the desk. "Like we didn't take shots and play truth or dare and end the night in bed with both of us."
Ericka raised an eyebrow. "You sure it was the tequila?"
Amanda ignored that. "I mean..."
Amanda chewed on the end of her pen, staring intently at the fabric swatches spread across the table in the design room. The new line of sustainable clothing was proving more challenging than anticipated. She was so engrossed, she didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching.
A shadow fell across her workspace. Before she could react, Ava was behind her, straddling her lap as she sat in the chair. Amanda gasped, instinctively grabbing Ava's thighs as she tried to maintain balance.
Ava's hands moved quickly, boldly. She reached down, finding Amanda's zipper, and with practiced ease and started massaging Amanda's hardened member. Amanda's breath hitched. The sensation was overwhelming, a stark and unwelcome contrast to the sterile environment of the office.
"Ava! We're at work," Amanda hissed, her voice a strained whisper. Every nerve ending was buzzing. She squeezed Ava's thighs tighter, trying to subtly push her away. "You can't just... do this here."
Ava's face was close, her eyes dark and mischievous. "Why not? You liked it last night, didn't you?" She leaned in, her breath warm against Amanda's ear. "Don't tell me you're going to pretend you didn't enjoy every second."
Amanda's resolve wavered. God, she had enjoyed it. The memory of Ava's touch, her laughter, the way she moved, swam to the forefront of her mind. But this was wrong. Here. Now.
"Ava, please," she pleaded, her voice laced with a desperation she didn't want Ava to hear. "Someone could walk in."
As if summoned by her words, the door swung open. Ericka stood there, a portfolio clutched in her hand, her expression unreadable for a split second before it hardened into something fierce and possessive.
The air crackled with unspoken tension.
Ericka didn't say a word. She moved with a speed that belied her polished demeanor.
In one swift motion, she grabbed Ava by the shoulders and yanked her off Amanda's lap.
Ava stumbled, caught off guard. Ericka didn't give her a chance to recover.
She pushed Ava against the nearest wall, pinning her there with undeniable force.
"You don't get to touch her unless I say so," Ericka said, her voice low and dangerous. The steel in her eyes could have cut glass. The room seemed to shrink, the silence magnifying every breath, every movement.
Ava's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and perhaps a hint of fear in them. "Ericka, you're hurting me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Ericka's grip tightened involuntarily. The words seemed to snap her out of the possessive rage that had consumed her. Her gaze softened, a wave of guilt washing over her face. She looked down at her hands, at the way she was holding Ava against the wall, and immediately loosened her grip.
"Shit," Ericka breathed, her voice barely a whisper. She stepped back, creating some space between them. The power dynamic shifted again, the predator momentarily turned prey.
The apology that formed on Ericka's lips was cut short. Instead, she reached out, cupping Ava's face gently in her hands. Her thumbs stroked softly across Ava's cheekbones.
"I'm sorry for hurting you," Ericka murmured, her eyes searching Ava's face. Then, before anyone could anticipate it, she leaned in and kissed Ava. It wasn't a soft, tentative kiss. It was passionate, demanding, a silent declaration of desire and regret. A way of saying sorry without words.
The kiss lingered for a moment, drawing the breath from Amanda's lungs.
Amanda stood up from her chair, her body moving on autopilot. The scene before her was surreal—a painted picture of lust and possession. She crossed the room in a few short strides, the click of her heels against the hardwood floor the only sound in the room.
Ericka and Ava were still locked in the passionate embrace, lost in the heated moment. Amanda reached out, gripping Ericka's shoulder firmly. "Ericka."
Something in Ericka's demeanor must have registered Amanda's voice because she pulled back from Ava's lips. She turned to look at Amanda, her eyes dark and unreadable behind the veil of her glasses.
Amanda felt a flicker of nervousness in her stomach. She pushed it down, stepped forward, and pulled Ericka into a searing kiss. It was a branding, a claiming. Ericka's lips parted in surprise, but she yielded, letting Amanda take control of the kiss.
When Amanda finally pulled back, her chest was heaving. She kept her grip tight on Ericka's shoulders, her eyes boring into hers. "You belong to me," she said, her voice low and steady. "You will never do that again unless I say it's okay. Do you understand?"
Ericka's eyes widened at the command in Amanda's tone. She swallowed, her throat bobbing. "Yes," she breathed out. "I understand."
Amanda held her gaze for a moment longer, a silent confirmation passing between them. Then she released Ericka, taking a step back. She turned to look at Ava, who was still pressed against the wall, her lips red and her cheeks flushed.
"And you," Amanda said, her voice losing none of its intensity. "What you did, touching me without permission, was unacceptable. If you want to continue this...whatever this is, you'll have to earn back my trust."
Ava's eyes darted to Ericka and then back to Amanda. She straightened, smoothing out her skirt. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice small. "I didn't mean to overstep. I thought—"
"You thought wrong." Amanda cut her off. "I'll forgive the misunderstanding this time, but don't let it happen again. Is that clear?"
"Yes," Ava said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's clear."