David Harper reached for his coffee, embracing the warm ceramic in his fingers. The first sip was bitter, the heat curling in his chest before he set the mug down beside his Sales Manager nameplate. Emails first, then the department meeting, then lunch, then the end-of-season party—then the weekend. Finally.

Then, however, he saw her. It was a mere flicker of movement at the edge of his vision, but when he glanced up all his thoughts paused.   

A young, blonde, unfamiliar woman strolled past his open door with a slowed, unhurried grace. Her white blouse was crisp and fitted, stretched around her breasts and tucked tightly into a pencil skirt which hugged her hips like a second skin. Her long legs were smooth and golden, toned and bare, contrasting with the black of her heels that clicked with each measured step.  

Then—just before she passed entirely—she turned her head. 

Bright, sharp, doe-like blue eyes flicked toward him through thick lashes. A small knowing smile, there and gone, curved at the edge of her lips. It was just enough to acknowledge him—and just enough to make sure he noticed.  

Then she was gone, vanishing down the hallway as though she had never been there at all. 

David sat motionless, his mind struggling to recalibrate. Who the fuck was that? 

His pulse went up a tick. He should know her—he made it a point to review applications of new hires and interns himself.  Frowning, he left his desk and stepped into the hall. 

She was still in sight, moving leisurely toward the copier as if she had all the time in the world. He watched as she reached for a stack of paper then turned and bent slightly to feed it into the tray.  

His jaw clenched involuntarily as the movement pulled her skirt tighter, just enough to show the full curve of her ass—tender, perfect, a shape that seemed almost sculpted. Her whole posture, with the arch of her spine and the way she lingered a second too long before straightening—there was no accident in it.  

David’s grip tightened slightly on the doorframe. 

“Hey David,” came a voice to his left. 

David turned to find Allen from accounting strolling past. He followed David’ gaze and faintly smirked. “New intern?” 

David exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to play casual. “Yeah, I guess so. Did you know we were hiring?” 

Allen shook his head, “No clue.” 

David’s gaze drifted helplessly back toward the copier to see her straighten, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before walking away, hips swaying as her heels clicked with a slow, even rhythm.  

“Hey--is the big boss coming in today?” Allen asked, though David barely heard him, “I need to ask him about some accounts.”  

David watched the young blonde disappear behind a cubicle.  

“David?” Allen asked again. “Is Rod coming in today, or no?” 

He shook himself out of his trance and turned back to the accountant. “Rod?” He replied, uttering his boss's name as if he had only just remembered it. “I-I don’t know. He comes and goes. Sorry, excuse me.” 

David moved without fully realizing it, his coffee and morning routine forgotten as his feet carried him down the hall. Something about that young woman didn’t sit right. Not in a bad way—just… off. Surely the office had its usual murmur—phones ringing, printers humming, muted conversations behind glass-walled offices—but David heard none of it as he retraced the woman’s steps, turning to see her settling into a cubicle across the floor.  

He stood for a moment and watched her cross her legs with uncaring ease, the shift of her thighs catching his gaze before he could stop himself. The profile of her crisp white blouse was even starker now, the outline of her breasts so tenderly firm and high upon her chest. The long waves of blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in careless perfection and her skin—flawless, seemingly untouched by time or stress—glowed in a way that made it difficult to pin down her age.

She was young. Her delicately doll-like face made that much clear. 

But how young?  

David approached and stopped beside her cubicle, gripping the edge of the partition as he cleared his throat. “Hey there—I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m David, Sales Manager.” 

She turned her head and those blue eyes, striking and sharp, met his with a flicker of something unreadable before she smiled. The curl of lips was slow, measured—the kind of smile that suggested she had already made up her mind about him. 

“Chloe,” she said, her voice smooth, almost lazy. “I just started as an intern.” 

David glanced at her desk—nearly bare. A laptop, a notepad, and a pen she was toying with between her fingers, tapping it lightly against the desk in an absent rhythm. She wasn’t fidgeting. She wasn’t nervous. If anything, she looked completely at ease, as if this was already her space. 

“I, uh, didn’t know we were hiring,” he said, watching her reaction. 

Chloe let the pen slip from her fingers, rolling it across the desk, as she leaned back slightly, stretching in a way that made her blouse pull even tighter across her chest. “My mom happens to know the owner. Lucky for me, right? I’ll have a summer job.”  

David studied her, something in her tone catching him off guard. She said it like she was entertaining her mother, like the whole idea of her working here was just a game she was indulging on her benefit. “Just for the summer? Then is it back to college?” he asked carefully, watching her closely. 

It wasn’t just curiosity—it was an attempt to place her, to put a firm number to the strange, uneasy feeling creeping into his chest. 

Chloe’s lips curled at the edges, amused. “Do I need a college degree to file paperwork? Besides, that’s a bit classist. Not everyone goes to college.” 

She dodged the question so smoothly that David almost didn’t notice at first. But instead of pressing, he let out a breath of a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fair point, I guess.” Straightening, he tapped his knuckles lightly against the edge of her desk, nervous for a reason he couldn’t quite place. “Well, let me know if you need anything.” 

Chloe tilted her head, slow and deliberate, her gaze dragging over him in a way that wasn’t exactly professional. Then, just as lazily, she smiled again. “Anything?” 

David felt the shift in the air like a static charge. She had said it lightly, playfully, but there was something else beneath it, something intentional. 

His mouth was suddenly dry. 

“Uh—yea. Just let me know.” 

Her smile deepened, not widely or in exaggeration—just the barest curve of her lips, like she’d gotten the exact answer she wanted from him.  

David hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, stepping back. “Well, um, welcome aboard, Chloe.” As he walked away, the sound of her voice lingered, wrapping around his brain. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but one thing was certain: she hadn’t been talking about assisting with paperwork. 

The day went on and Chloe drifted in and out of David’s periphery, always a quiet disruption to the routine he had developed over 20 years at the company. She wasn’t doing anything inappropriate. There was no outright flirting or crossing of professional lines—but something about her was still too much. Too casual, too bold, too aware of herself. 

David would glance up from an email and catch her stretching just outside his office, arms rising above her head, the motion making her blouse pull just a little tighter across her clearly nubile breasts before she relaxed again, seemingly unaware of the way it drew the eye. 

At lunch, she leaned against the breakroom counter, engaging in small conversation with one of the guys from marketing as she stirred a cup of coffee. David wasn’t listening to their exchange of words—he was too distracted by the way she lifted the spoon to her plush and pink lips, absently tasting the foam before lapping it away. It seemed so innocent yet so designed to draw attention. He found himself having to pull his gaze away before it lingered too long.  

And then there was the afternoon party to celebrate hitting the quarter’s sales goals. A cheap catered spread was set up in the common area, drinks were poured, and the atmosphere had loosened with the kind of celebratory energy that made people slightly let their guard down. 

David purposely avoided Chloe, keeping to the perimeter of the gathering. But in the midst of it, he caught sight of her standing near the refreshments, a glass of something bubbly in her hand. She wasn’t talking to anyone, just standing there, surveying the room with that same easy, uncaring confidence, her gaze moving deliberately through the faces around her. 

Then, just for a second, she looked directly at him. 

It wasn’t a glance. It wasn’t an accident. It was a look.  

Her lips parted slightly, amused, as if about to say something, though they were far across the room from each other. Then, before he could react, she teasingly turned away, taking a slow sip of her drink before setting it down and slipping out of sight into the crowd. 

David exhaled, his grip tightening around his glass.  

By 4:00 PM, he was ready to wrap things up and put everything out of mind. He stepped forward and clapped his hands together. “Alright, everyone. Early dismissal today. Go enjoy your evening.” 

A murmur of pleased surprise rippled through the room and David returned to his office, glad for a moment of quiet before finishing up the last bit of work he needed to handle. 

Ten minutes later, when the sounds outside his office had faded and his mind had almost cleared, he heard his door click shut. 

He looked up. 

Chloe stood just inside, the handle still in her grip. Her blouse was slightly looser than it had been earlier. One button undone. Not enough to be improper. But enough to shift the air, the weight of the moment pressing into the room before she even spoke. 

“Hi David,” she said, her voice smooth, sweet, and measured. “Do you have a minute to talk?” 

David shifted in his seat, trying to push aside the faint pull in his gut. He kept his expression even. “What about?” 

Chloe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she took slow, deliberate steps forward, closing the space between them with unhurried ease. He didn’t like how aware he was of her movements—the slow, deliberate way she shifted her weight, the way her blouse slightly parted where the undone button sat. 

“Well,” she murmured, her tone light, thoughtful. “Is it all that strange for a new employee to review their performance goals with a superior?” 

David swallowed. Nothing outwardly inappropriate had happened, but the air in the office felt heavier and charged. Just the way she looked at him with that doll-like face, the way her youthful presence filled the room—once again, it all felt intentional.  

“Alright,” he said evenly. “Let’s hear it.” 

Chloe’s lips curled slightly at the edges. “Well, first I’ll be honest. I only took this job because my parents made me,” she admitted, her gaze flicking to his. “So long as I live with them, they say I need to learn discipline.” 

David exhaled slowly. He shouldn’t entertain this. He shouldn’t be engaging with whatever this was—the push-and-pull, the slow-drawn tension that seemed to tighten with every fucking second. 

But he did. 

“Well, what do you want?” he asked, his voice lower than he intended. 

Chloe’s lips split into a wide and knowing smile. Her fingertips dragged across the surface of the desk as she slowly circled around it.  “Well, I think I need discipline too,” she said, soft as silk. Then, with a small, almost amused sigh, she added: 

“See, I’m a bad girl.” 

The charge in the air escalated now to something David wasn’t sure he had the strength to resist. Of course he should have told her to leave the moment she stepped into his office. Of course he should have drawn the line then, made it clear that he wanted no part in her games.  

But he was still sitting there. 

And she was stopping in front of him, close enough that he could smell the trace of perfume clinging to her unbelievably smooth skin. The scent was light, almost as innocent as her nearly cherubic face, but it didn’t fool him—nothing about her was innocent.  

“I was hoping,” she said softly, “since I have to be here for the summer, that I could have an older boss who would be...hands-on with me.” She leaned her weight against the desk, drumming the surface lightly with her fingers. “See, I want to be a good worker—the best worker.” Her gaze flicked down his body, then back up again. “But I need someone to help me, to guide me, to make me their perfect little worker.” 

David’s fingers twitched against the arms of his chair, body frozen in place as, without another word, she descended to her knees before him.  He swallowed, his throat impossibly dry. “Chloe—” 

She reached forward, just barely brushing her fingertips against his knee. “Shh...” she murmured, tilting her head languidly “I know what both of us want.” 

His jaw clenched—so hard that it ached. His gaze dragged over her face--too fresh, too unmarked by the weight of years she hadn't yet lived. He must have lived through entire eras of himself before she had even taken her first breath. His breath came shallow, panicked. “How-how old are you?”

Her hands were undisturbed and on the move, sliding slowly up his legs, the feel of her nails through the fabric of his slacks sending a sharp jolt through his body. He exhaled roughly, his control slipping, his hands tightening into fists. 

Chloe smiled. “Eighteen... Twenty... does it matter?” 

Again, he could have stopped her. Again, he should have stopped her.  

Again, he didn’t. Because deep down his body had already decided—he wanted this bright-eyed temptress to show him everything. So, he did nothing when her fingers brushed over the buckle of his belt, nor when she unfastened it with infuriating ease, sliding the leather through the loops. 

“Chloe,” he muttered, voice deep, though no longer in warning.  

He inhaled sharply as she undid and pulled upon his slacks, revealing the thick line of his cock pressing hard against the fabric beneath. A satisfied hum vibrated through her throat as she ran her palm over him, teasing him with the heat of her hand. He jerked even at the light pressure, his body betraying him.  

She laughed. Not loudly or mockingly but in a soft, breathy expression of genuine delight at how little effort it took to unravel him.  

“Believe me, I'm going to be the best worker you’ve ever had,” she murmured. 

She curled her fingers around the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down, just enough so his cock sprang out, thick and heavy against his stomach, already leaking with desperate longing. Chloe exhaled in quiet appreciation, her doe-eyes gleaming as she wrapped one small, perfect hand around the base. 

David’s hips instinctively lifted into her grasp.  

Jesus Christ. 

She didn’t hesitate or stall. She stroked him in slow, teasing pumps, spreading the slick precum over the sensitive head with a grip that was perfect, just tight enough, just right.   

David tilted his head back and groaned, feeling his restraint hanging by a thread.  

Chloe leaned further in, parting her lips, exhaling warm over the slick, exposed tip, suddenly so vulnerable to her whims. 

David’s whole body coiled tight, waiting— 

Then she licked him—a slow, wet stroke of her tongue from base to tip, teasing at the slit before pulling away. 

David swore to the almighty, his entire body tensing, a sharp pulse of heat ripping through his spine. 

She smirked. 

“Oh, I think we’ll work great together,” she murmured, stroking him again, slow and smooth, watching his every reaction like she was savoring it.  

David could still stop it. He could pull back, shut this down. 

But then she wrapped her lips around the tip and sucked. 

His hand shot out and his fingers tangled in her blonde waves, gripping at the base of her skull. It wasn’t to force or rush her—it was to just hold on.  

She moaned, the sound vibrating around him, the sensation sending a fresh pulse of arousal tearing through him. He could barely breathe, his entire world narrowing down to the wet heat of her mouth, the slow slide of her lips as she took him deeper. 

He wasn’t thinking anymore. He wasn’t even capable of thinking. 

His pulse roared in his ears, and when she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder, his control fractured so violently it was gone. 

He let his head tip back, his breath ragged, his grip in her hair tightening. 

And Chloe—wicked, relentless, victorious—kept going. 

Then, the knock hit the door like a gunshot. It cut through the thick, stifling air of the office and sent a bolt of raw, animalistic panic straight through David’s chest. 

“David? You in there?” 

Rod, the company owner. His boss. Fuck! 

David didn’t think—he moved. 

He seized Chloe by the shoulders and before she could smirk, before she could make a wicked remark, he shoved her under the desk. She barely resisted, sinking into the shadows without a sound, her body folding neatly into the space between his legs, like she belonged there, like it was all just a game to her. 

David barely had time to yank his slacks up, to smooth his shirt, to return himself to some semblance of composure before the door swung open. 

Rod stepped inside. 

David sat rigid, hands flat on the desk, forcing his breath to even. His pulse was still...