Ryo's phone buzzed just as he hit send on the revised report.
|From: Fujimoto Ayane"
Tanaka-kun. Bring the final version to my office."
His pulse jumped. He'd already been in that room once today; the memory of her perfume and the way she'd pinned him with a single look was still too fresh. Still, "no" wasn't an option. He printed the file, straightened his tie, and walked the now-familiar corridor to her cabin.
Three soft knocks.
"Come in."
Afternoon light had begun to fade, leaving the room wrapped in a softer, warmer glow. Ayane was at her desk this time, not perched on it—legs crossed, jacket off, blouse sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. The top button of that blouse had given up the fight somewhere during the day, leaving just a little more skin showing than usual.
"You're on time," she said. "Good."
Ryo stepped forward and placed the report on her desk. "Here's the final version, Fujimoto-san."
She took it without a word, eyes scanning the pages with that same sharp focus that made grown men elsewhere in the office break into a sweat. He waited, heart thudding, watching the slight movement of her eyes, the faint tightening at the corner of her mouth when she found something she didn't like.
Except—this time—her expression didn't tighten.
She reached the last page, exhaled slowly, and closed the file.
"This is… acceptable," she said.
Relief washed through him so fast his knees almost gave out. "Thank—"
"For a first day," she added. "Don't get arrogant."
He shut his mouth.
Ayane leaned back in her chair, studying him. The strict manager mask slipped just a fraction; the corners of her lips softened, her voice losing some of its usual edge.
"You worked hard, Tanaka-kun," she said. "I pushed you, and you didn't break. That deserves something."
He blinked. "Something?"
"A reward," she clarified. "Within reason."
He stared, wondering if this was another test. "A… reward?"
"One wish," she said. "Just this once. If it's something I can grant, I will."
His brain short-circuited. There were a hundred things he could have asked for—lighter workload, mentorship, a day off, even just an honest compliment. Instead, the first image that flashed in his mind was of her earlier that day: sitting on the edge of the desk, legs crossed, blouse open just enough to steal his focus.
Before he could talk himself out of it, the words slipped out.
"Then… can I… kiss you?"
The silence that followed felt like it lasted a year.
Ayane did not move. Her eyes didn't widen. She simply watched him, as if dissecting the shape of the request molecule by molecule. Ryo wanted to rewind time, to swallow the sentence back down and replace it with something safe.
"Forget it," he blurted. "I—I didn't mean—"
"Come here," she said.
He froze. "Eh?"
She rose from her chair, the movement smooth, unhurried. When she rounded the desk and stopped in front of him, he realized just how close they were; he could see the faint smudge of fatigue under her eyes, the gloss on her lips, the rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin fabric.
"You should think more before you speak," she said quietly. "But I told you I'd grant a wish."
His breath caught. "F-Fujimoto-san…"
"Close your eyes, Tanaka-kun."
He did.
The first touch was terrifyingly gentle—a hand at his tie, tugging him down the last little distance, and then the soft press of lips against his. Warm. Hesitant for a second, then more certain when he didn't pull away. His mind went blank, swallowed by the sensation of her mouth moving slowly against his, the faint taste of coffee and something sweeter.
His hands, acting on instinct, lifted toward her. One brushed her waist, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric, the other rising higher, fingers hovering uselessly in the air as if afraid to land.
Ayane's fingers curled into his shirt. The kiss deepened. The world shrank to breathing and warmth and the way her body seemed to lean into his, just enough to make him forget where they were.
She slid off the desk, pulling him in by his tie. Their lips met—hot, urgent. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting of coffee and desire. His hands roamed her waist, sliding up to cup her full breasts through the bra, thumbs brushing hard nipples.
She moaned softly, arching into his touch. He pinched her nipples through the fabric, feeling them stiffen under his fingers.
This is real, he thought wildly. I'm kissing Fujimoto Ayane—