James stared down at Victoria's provocative figure positioned so intimately against him, his mind racing with thoughts he'd never expected to have about the woman who had dominated his professional life for so long. This version of Victoria was entirely novel to him, raw, desperate, completely unguarded in a way he'd never witnessed before. He'd seen her command boardrooms, demolish competitors, and navigate corporate politics with ruthless precision, but he had never seen her so utterly over the edge for anyone.
The realization struck him with startling clarity: not even with her previous relationships had Victoria displayed this level of desperate want. He'd observed her interactions with past boyfriends from a distance, noting her controlled demeanor, her calculated responses, the way she maintained her composure even in intimate moments that he'd accidentally witnessed. But this, this raw hunger, this complete abandonment of her legendary self-control, this was something entirely different.
Should I feel special? James wondered, his pulse quickening as Victoria's weight pressed more firmly against his thigh. The thought was intoxicating, the idea that he alone had managed to strip away the layers of armor that Victoria Sharp wore like a second skin. But even as the notion sent heat coursing through his veins, James fought against letting it go to his head. He'd seen too many men make the mistake of believing they were the exception to Victoria's rules, only to find themselves discarded when they proved they were just as predictable as the rest.
The tension in the room was suffocating, electric with possibility and danger in equal measure. Victoria's breathing had grown shallow, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that made it impossible for James to focus on anything else. Her hand on his chest had begun to move almost imperceptibly, her fingers tracing small patterns through the fabric of his shirt that sent shivers of awareness racing across his skin.
James opened his mouth to voice the thoughts churning through his mind, to perhaps establish some ground rules or express his concerns about the pace at which they were moving. But before he could form the first word, Victoria's patience, what little remained of it, finally snapped entirely.
With a fluid motion that spoke of barely contained desperation, Victoria wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself even closer until there was no space left between them. Her face was mere inches from his now, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his lips, could see the way her pupils had dilated with want until only thin rings of blue remained visible.
When Victoria spoke, her voice was so low it was barely above a whisper, rough with need and edged with something that sounded dangerously close to a growl. "My patience has run dry, James." The words seemed to vibrate through the small space between them, carrying with them the weight of weeks of building tension and unfulfilled desire.
Her eyes brimmed with such raw hunger that James felt his breath catch in his throat. This wasn't the composed, strategic Victoria Sharp he'd known for years. This was a woman on the very edge of her control, teetering on the precipice of complete abandon.
"The day I declared you as mine at the anniversary party," Victoria continued, her voice gaining strength and conviction with each word, "was the day we officially became exclusive. You are my man, James. Mine."
The possessive declaration sent shock waves through James's system. There was no question in her statement, no room for negotiation or discussion. Victoria had made a unilateral decision about the nature of their relationship, and she was informing him of it rather than asking for his consent. It was so thoroughly characteristic of her approach to everything else in life that James almost smiled despite the intensity of the moment.
"How long do you seriously want us to be in this talking stage?" Victoria demanded, her grip on his shoulders tightening as if she could physically pull the answer she wanted from him. "Anything you want to try out, anything you want to explore or discover about each other, can still be done while we're dating. There's no rule that says we have to complete some arbitrary checklist before we can acknowledge what's already happening between us."
Her logic was sound, even delivered through the haze of desperation and desire that surrounded them like a physical presence. Victoria's business acumen was showing even in this intensely personal moment, she was presenting her case, outlining the benefits, addressing potential objections before they could be raised.
James felt his heart quicken at her declaration, the rapid beating surely obvious to Victoria given how her palm was pressed flat against his chest. The acceleration wasn't just from the physical proximity, though her body against his was certainly having an effect he couldn't ignore. It was the realization that this moment, this conversation, was the one he'd been dreaming about since the first time he'd allowed himself to imagine what it might be like to be Victoria's partner rather than just her colleague.
He had always dreamt of the day he could stand at her side not as an employee or subordinate, but as her equal. Her man. The day when he could claim her as his woman without fear of professional repercussions or social complications. The fantasy had seemed so impossible for so long that he'd relegated it to the realm of dreams, something to be indulged in private moments but never seriously pursued.
Yet here was Victoria, making that impossible dream a reality with nothing more than a declaration and the force of her considerable will.
Is this too fast? The question echoed through James's mind even as his body responded to Victoria's proximity with increasing urgency. They'd known each other professionally for years, but this level of intimacy, this shift from colleagues to lovers, had happened with breathtaking speed. A week ago, he'd been nursing a hopeless crush on his unattainable boss. Now she was sitting across his lap, declaring them exclusive, demanding acknowledgment of a relationship he hadn't even been certain existed.
But as James considered Victoria's words, he found himself agreeing with her assessment. What was the point of dragging out what she'd called the talking stage? They'd been working closely together for years. He knew her professional habits, her decision-making processes, her values and priorities. She'd just proven she knew intimate details about his personal life and preferences. They weren't strangers fumbling toward understanding, they were two people who already knew each other in every way that mattered, finally acknowledging the attraction that had been simmering between them for longer than either cared to admit.
The realization settled over James like a weight being lifted from his shoulders. Victoria was right. They could continue learning about each other while dating just as easily as they could while maintaining this artificial distance. The arbitrary rules and timelines that governed typical relationships didn't have to apply to them. They were both adults, both capable of making informed decisions about what they wanted.
And what James wanted, with a clarity that surprised him, was Victoria Sharp. All of her the brilliant strategist, the ruthless negotiator, the vulnerable woman currently draped across his lap with hunger blazing in her eyes.
His mind made up, James allowed his gaze to move slowly over Victoria's face, taking in the way her lips were slightly parted with anticipation, the flush that had spread across her cheeks and down her neck, the way her chest rose and fell with barely controlled breathing. She was waiting with bated breath for his answer, every line of her body tense with expectation and hope and desperate need.
This was the woman who held his happiness in her hands, James realized. Not because she had power over him professionally, but because somewhere along the way, he'd fallen completely and irrevocably in love with her. The admission didn't come as a shock, it felt more like acknowledging something he'd known for a long time but hadn't been brave enough to face.
Victoria Sharp was brilliant and demanding and impossible and absolutely perfect in her imperfection. She was challenging and frustrating and more attractive than any woman had a right to be. She made him want to be better, to rise to meet her expectations, to prove himself worthy of standing beside her as an equal.
And she was his. Had declared herself his and him hers with the same confidence she brought to every other aspect of her life. The thought was intoxicating, terrifying, and absolutely right all at once.
James stared at the woman who had just upended his understanding of their relationship, who had taken control of the situation with the same authority she wielded in every other context, who was currently looking at him with such raw want that it made his chest tight with responding desire.
The silence stretched between them, charged with electricity and possibility. Victoria's eyes searched his face for any sign of his decision, her body poised as if ready to spring into action the moment he gave her the signal she was waiting for.
When James finally spoke, his voice was rough with emotion and want and the weight of the decision he'd just made. The two words carried with them the acknowledgment of everything Victoria had declared, the acceptance of the relationship she'd outlined, and the invitation for her to take what she'd been so desperately seeking.
"Come here."