IT JUST BEGUN "LOVE"
The office lights were dim, the soft hum of the cleaning crew echoing down the empty corridors of the prestigious Boston law firm, Mercer & Ash. Only one light remained glowing on the 22nd floor—Elliot Reyes's.
Elliot, sharp-jawed and sharp-witted, had been with the firm for four years, making partner last fall. He was respected, maybe even feared, by some—always poised, always in control. Except when it came to him.
Julian Carr.
The new associate was everything Elliot shouldn't be attracted to—five years younger, confident in a disarming way, with an easy laugh and an uncanny ability to challenge him in meetings without ever crossing the line. He was brilliant. Annoyingly brilliant.
And tonight, Julian was still here.
Elliot didn't notice until he stepped out of his office and nearly bumped into him by the printer.
"Oh—hey," Julian said, startled, then smiled that crooked, too-charming smile. "Didn't think anyone else was still here."
"I could say the same to you," Elliot replied, his tone calm, but something tightened in his chest. Julian was wearing his sleeves rolled up, a bit of ink from a leaky pen on his hand. Too human. Too real.
"I stayed late to prep for the deposition," Julian said. "But I guess I'm also avoiding my empty apartment."
Elliot chuckled quietly. "I know the feeling."
A moment passed—just a breath too long. Julian's eyes lingered on him, thoughtful.
"You know," Julian said softly, "for someone who keeps his distance, you're not great at hiding how much you watch me."
Elliot's jaw tensed. "That's inappropriate."
"So is what I'm about to do."
And then Julian stepped closer—close enough to make Elliot's pulse race, close enough to smell his cologne, something warm and clean like cedarwood.
"Julian…" Elliot warned, but his voice lacked conviction.
"You can stop me," Julian whispered.
But Elliot didn't.
When Julian kissed him, it wasn't tentative. It was full, aching, like a dam finally breaking. Elliot kissed back, hard, desperate, years of restraint slipping through his fingers. Hands in hair, breath against neck, the quiet thrill of crossing a line neither of them could uncross.
It was messy. It was fire. It was everything Elliot had been denying himself.
And it had just begun.
Absolutely — here's Chapter 2 of After Hours, turning up the heat while keeping it emotionally grounded and tastefully written.
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CHAPTER 2:THE CLICK LOCK
The kiss had scorched through Elliot like a wildfire. He hadn't meant to lose control, but something about Julian—the way he moved, the way he kissed with purpose and not apology—made control feel like a ridiculous game.
They broke apart, breathing hard, the air thick between them. Julian's lips were slightly swollen, his tie half-loosened, eyes dark with want.
"We shouldn't do this here," Elliot muttered, voice hoarse.
Julian raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me to stop."
Elliot didn't. Instead, he reached past Julian and clicked the lock on the office door.
Julian's grin widened.
Elliot's hands were already on his hips, pulling him in again. This time, the kiss deepened quickly—no pretense, no hesitation. Julian pushed Elliot against the door, their bodies pressing flush. Heat surged between them as mouths opened and hands roamed with a kind of urgency neither had felt in months, maybe years.
Elliot's suit jacket slid off, landing in a careless heap. Julian's fingers moved with surprising confidence—unbuttoning, untucking—exposing skin with reverence but hunger, like unwrapping something long desired. Elliot gasped when Julian's lips found the base of his neck, that tender spot just below the collarbone.
"God—Julian…"
Julian's mouth curled into a smirk against his skin. "You say my name like you've been dreaming it."
"I have."
That confession seemed to spark something deeper. Julian sank to his knees with a look of pure focus, his hands trailing down Elliot's torso, nails lightly scratching at his sides. He looked up, eyes locked on Elliot's, lips slightly parted.
"Tell me what you want," Julian said, voice low and velvet-smooth.
Elliot's breath caught. "I want…" He swallowed. "I want you to ruin me."
Julian didn't need more invitation.
What followed wasn't just passion—it was a release. Of power, of tension, of carefully constructed walls Elliot had spent a decade building. Julian undid them one touch at a time. And for once, Elliot let himself feel. Let himself be wanted.
The desk groaned beneath them later—papers scattering, ties undone, the city skyline blinking indifferently beyond the window. Every sound, every gasp, every whispered name echoed louder in the silence of the office after dark.
They didn't speak for a long moment afterward, bodies tangled, breathing slowing. Julian's fingers traced slow patterns along Elliot's chest.
"Still think this was a mistake?" he murmured.
Elliot looked down at him, one hand brushing through Julian's hair.
"No," he said quietly. "But tomorrow morning… it's going to be complicated."
Julian grinned, curling closer. "Then let's make tonight worth it."