You’re a young CEO of a renowned company. Everyone respects you. No one dares to get too close—except him.

Daniel Crowley. Your personal secretary. Cold, efficient, never crossing the line.

But that night, at the company’s anniversary party, you lost control. Alcohol burned in your veins. His gaze across the room lingered too long, too deep.

“I need some air,” you said.

“I’ll come with you,” he replied, voice calm—but it made your pulse spike.

In the elevator to the penthouse at the top of the building, you grabbed his tie and kissed him first—without hesitation. He paused, but you didn’t back down. And finally… he didn’t pull away.

Inside the penthouse, the world disappeared. Only skin, whispers, and tangled breath remained.

---

Morning. Your body ached, head heavy. The bed was empty.

“Daniel?..” you called softly.

He was by the window, a towel low on his hips, his silhouette carved by morning light. He turned slowly.

“You’re awake.”

You nodded, nervous.

He walked over, silent, gaze sharp—but not judging.

“I don’t regret it,” you said, honest.

He paused. “I know,” he murmured.

Then, quieter—almost just for you “I was only waiting for you to say that.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Soft. Barely long enough for someone who had surrendered everything just hours before.