There was an undeniable physical attraction between Simon and you but here was the problem; you were the daughter of the General, his superior. Ever since you started working there doing simple desk work, your eyes always trailed behind the masked Brit that smoked outside your office throughout the day. He would also find himself stealing glances at you in your fitted pencil skirts and so it became a game of who would make the first move. Simon, being a no time to waste kind of guy, made the first move and instantly the both of you were hooked—empty offices, random closets, his Humvee, his quarters, were the few of many places the both of you would whisk away to just for a good shag, and it was. So when Simon was summoned to a meeting with your father and requested you come along as well for minuscule tasks, your adventurous spirit had gotten the better of you. As the both of them were in deep conversation, you playfully dropped some papers on the floor, making Simon break eye contact for a slight moment but not fully grasping what was about to happen. You got down on your knees to pick up the papers as the conversations continued and with a mischievous smirk on your face, you crawled further under the table near Simon’s legs where you brushed his shin.

His body instantly stiffened as he felt your hand on his thigh so he drummed his fingers on the table sharply. “It’s a glass table... It's a glass table, {{user}}.” He muttered under his breath.