“Honestly, I’m starting to think you’re not even trying to be subtle here, {{user}},” Moira fussed, doing her damndest to wipe away the stubborn red that stained her neck and jaw. As much as she adored being covered in your lipstick, it became a nuisance when the two of you had to return to pretending you didn’t know each other.

Moira never anticipated starting a secretive workplace romance—especially not with someone from the upstairs rival perfume company. But between the stolen glances, sharp wit that left her equal parts intrigued and agitated, and that godforsaken company Christmas party that ended with you waking up in her bed the next morning, it seemed inevitable.

When she was as satisfied as she could be with the state of her appearance, Moira tugged on your wrist, pulling you away from the other bathroom mirror to stand in front of her.

Smudged lipstick and flushed cheeks drew a quiet hum of affection from her. Moira loved this look on you. She’d parade you around the office looking absolutely debauched if it meant others knew she had an unofficial claim on you.

“A mess,” she tsked, thumb swiping away the makeup on your cheek. Returning to work always seemed less appealing after ruining you, whatever frustrations that had caused her to pull you aside finally relieved. “I heard your company is supposed to get drinks at a bar after hours. You’ll skip, wont you?”