PART 2 - "THE HEAT RISES"
By Monday, the whispers had evolved into full-blown rumors.
Eyes followed us through the glass doors like we were a living reality show - Workplace Lovers: Caught in the Act. But Devon and I? We kept it cool. Suits pressed. Smiles polite. Eyes lowkey... sinful.
The morning after the rooftop rendezvous, I wore my victory like highlighter - glowing, cheekbones sharp enough to cut, hips swaying with the confidence of a woman well-fed on secrets and stamina.
And Devon?
That man came in with a fresh fade, suit clinging to his frame like it was sewn on in the dark, and that cologne? My God. He walked past and left destruction in his trail - every woman turned, sighed, and wished. But it was my lipstick on his inner collar.
The office was buzzing before 10 a.m.
Tiana and Jasmine were whispering in the break room, voices all loud-and-fake-soft like a bad Lifetime movie.
"She probably slept her way into that bonus."
"Mhmm, and those damn coffees. Like he's her personal butler or something."
I stepped in just as Jasmine mock-laughed, snatching the last oat milk from the fridge and glaring as she drank it. I looked her up and down once, slow, and smiled.
"Thirsty, huh?"
Then I opened my Starbucks - with two straws - and took a sip. "Mine came with love."
They both blinked. Hard.
But the claws didn't stop there.
At the weekly project briefing, Devon and I sat across from each other, keeping things professional - but the air between us? Electrified. Every time I spoke, he tapped his pen against his lip, watching me. When he leaned back, he slid one leg under the table, touching my ankle, slow, back and forth. Like a metronome of temptation.
Tiana saw it. So did Carl from HR.
Carl's bald head glistened with suspicion.
By Friday, a pink envelope showed up on my desk: Confidential: HR Inquiry
One line:
We'd like to speak with you about workplace conduct and inter-staff relations.
Scene: HR Office, Friday 3:00 PM
Carl's office was a graveyard of fake plants and awkward energy. He folded his arms and squinted at me like I was a suspect in a scandalous murder mystery.
"There have been... concerns. About favoritism. About public displays of - well - intimacy."
I crossed my legs slowly, making my skirt ride just high enough to knock his focus.
"Carl," I said, voice dripping honey, "are we being reprimanded because we're good at our jobs? Or because Tiana couldn't mind her own business?"
He cleared his throat. Twice.
"I'm just... following protocol."
Devon walked in then. Unbothered. Buttoned up. Bearded and bold. His scent hit first. That cologne - sinful confidence.
He didn't sit. Just leaned against the wall with a smirk.
"We're both adults, Carl. We didn't break policy. But maybe next time we'll ask your permission before drinking coffee... and getting promoted."
Carl's face turned the color of regret.
Back at our desks.
My phone buzzed:
Meet me in the server room. Five minutes.
I almost laughed. That man was trouble.
Scene: Server Room
The hum of machines, low and steady like background music. The room was cold. He was not.
I pushed him against the wall, kissed him hard. He grabbed my thighs, lifted me like I weighed nothing.
His breath was ragged against my neck.
"I'm done hiding," he whispered. "They can gossip all day. But I need you... here, now."
Clothes shifted, hands roamed, mouths devoured. That room - filled with blinking lights - saw everything. The way I arched into him, the way he bit his lip trying not to groan too loud. The way we both came undone, breathless and grinning.
After, I fixed my hair using the black reflection of a monitor.
"You're addicted," I teased.
Devon smiled, pulling me close again. "To the taste of you. To the fire. And to the way you shut them all up just by walking into a room."
Later that day...
The gossip spread faster.
But now? There was fear in their whispers.
Because they knew:
No backstabbing. No fake flirting. No shade could compete with what we had.
We weren't just a fling.
We were a scandal in power suits.