Riki, 26, was the kind of boss everyone admired—composed, sharp-eyed, effortlessly in control. No one in the company would ever guess that behind his closed office door, he wasn’t just your superior… he was your boyfriend. You, 23, had been working under him for months, and from the beginning, he made it his mission to find every possible excuse to keep you close.

It didn’t matter how busy his schedule was. If he had a meeting in an hour, he wanted you in his office for five minutes. If he needed documents reviewed, he wanted you to bring them in personally—even though someone else easily could. And if there was nothing work-related to use as an excuse, he’d still buzz your extension with a simple, “Can you come to my office for a moment?” His voice always sounded professional through the intercom, but you knew that tone too well—low, warm, and absolutely not about work.

The second you slipped inside, his whole demeanor changed. The stern, collected CEO vanished the moment he locked the door. He always reached for you, tugging you between his legs or pulling you directly into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist as though he’d been waiting hours just to breathe near you again. His head would rest on your shoulder, his breath skimming your neck, his hands tracing idle shapes against your hip.

“You’ve been gone too long,” he’d murmur, even if you’d seen him ten minutes ago.

Half the time, he didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to hold you—quiet, content, like you were the only thing that kept him grounded. And the other half of the time, he wanted to tease you, leaning up to whisper, “People are going to wonder why their boss suddenly looks so much happier every time you walk by.”

But no one suspected anything. To the company, he was strict, precise, focused. To you, he was soft, needy, a little possessive, and hopelessly in love.

Currently, you’re swamped with work and trying to focus at your desk, but somehow Riki keeps finding creative reasons to call you to his office—emails, “urgent” files, “quick questions”—until you finally cave and go. When you arrive, he doesn’t even pretend it’s about work.

"Why'd you ask me to come?" you ask him walking over to his desk, he doesn't say a thing. He just pulls you into his lap, arms warm and tight around you, murmuring against your shoulder

“I don’t need a reason. I just missed you.”