I walk into the boss's office. Andriy stands with his back to the door, looking out the window. One hand in his trouser pocket, his posture was tense. I can see it clearly.
" Hmm. What is so urgent? " I say sharply. I am still nervous in his presence.
He turns around and gives me a scrutinizing look. Just that. No mischievous sparkles, no desire. Rather contemplation.
I relax my shoulders, a faint prick of disappointment stings somewhere inside. I ignore it. I try to focus.
" The thing is, I need your help, " he says, hesitating for a moment.
" With what? " I ask curiously.
" This week I found out that someone in my office in Krakow has been involved in not entirely legal dealings, " he pauses, thinking about how best to present the information. And I can't help noticing a serious crease cut across his firm forehead. " I don't know if you're aware, but I run a network of employment agencies. I always operate legally. Exclusively. I personally check employers and working conditions, so the system is well-established. Besides Kraków, I already have branches in Wroclaw and Warsaw. But this year, I decided to open a branch here in Lviv as well. This required my presence, at least initially. Commuting back and forth was quite exhausting, so my deputies and I managed to set up a remote work process. Everything would have been fine..., " he rubs his chin covered with light stubble, and I note that he looks tired. I wonder if he slept at all today.
" But…? " I raise an eyebrow and involuntarily step closer.
" I like to keep everything under control, " he leans back on his desk and crosses his arms over his chest. " But this additional deal with Khmylevych distracted me, since the deputies have been handling things well over the past few months. I let my guard down, " I see a silent self-reproach. Not uttered aloud, but it hangs in the air. Our eyes meet. " And then last week, I discovered discrepancies in the documents. I dug deeper and found out it was a forgery.
His jaws clench tightly, and his temples angrily twitch, while I just widen my eyes. He continues in an icy tone:
" Forgery is one thing. But here's the deal. It's not hard to track down the manager who handled the paperwork, but..., " he pauses, and it finally dawns on me.
I continue his sentence:
" Someone approved it. So one of the deputies must know, " then I ponder and add: " Or do you think that someone could be more than one person?
Speculations chaotically attack my head. He nods.
" Smart girl, " a short word escapes his lips. Praise. And my chest feels treacherously warm. Damn. A pat on the head for a good girl. " Now we find out who he is.
" But how can I help? " The meaning escapes me.
" Milana, " he drags on. " They don’t know you, which is very useful, " he scans me with a careful look, and relaxes his shoulders. " As my secretary, you would have access to all departments. And don't worry, " I'll give you a brief run-down on what exactly you need to look for.
Strong palms hide in his trouser pockets, and my gaze treacherously tracks this movement and briefly sticks to forbidden places. I feel the tender skin of my cheeks beginning to blush. I raise my eyes and meet a turquoise gaze that slowly darkens.
" Are you afraid of challenges? " he arches his eyebrow, as if to provoke.
" No, I'm not afraid. " My tongue is my enemy, as is my stubbornness. Because damn it! I'm not used to burying my head in the sand.
And a little devil inside me slyly whispers, "What a great opportunity," and adds, "Maybe you finally get rid of broken illusions about the past and put your life together?"
Damn. It seems my own self is now playing against me, together with this cunning devil Polanski.
" Sure? " he pushes away from the desk, and I note how his abdominal muscles tense, visible even through the shirt. I swallow nervously, but I don't intend to back down. " Because we'll have to spend a lot of time together.
Andriy stops just a step away, and I keep looking at his shirt. For some reason, I dare not look up. Coward! Coward! I press my lips tighter.
" I thought you considered me a professional. Was I mistaken? " I spit it out, and with a prickly gaze, look directly into his turquoise eyes.
The words slip out, but everything trembles in my chest in mute anticipation. And he clearly sees and takes it as a challenge, because a crafty smile, though more of a grimace, plays on his lips. Obviously, these games are not easy for him either. But his next words make me seriously doubt whether I really thought this out.
" Are you afraid of the feelings that have arisen here? " his manly hand slips out of his pants pocket, and his index finger lightly touches above my breasts.
Sensitive skin, uncovered, burned, dotted with goosebumps wherever he touches it. My breathing quickens, I involuntarily bite my lower lip, stick out the tip of my tongue, and lick the tender skin of my lips.
Polansky greedily watches this movement, and his jaws only clench tighter. Almost to a crunch, revealing how much effort he is exerting. A languid sensation spreads in my chest, spirals down, and with a stinging current rushes up through my veins. It hits my head with intoxication, euphoria. Powerfully. Strongly. To the trembling in my bones.
The tension between us crackles from the scorching sparks of electricity that scatter and mercilessly sting us both. Painful, yet so sweet at the same time.
I don't want to admit that he is absolutely right. I really am afraid of those feelings, which came from nowhere and which, however, are increasingly difficult to ignore. But at this moment, I want to shout the opposite to him. That I'm not afraid of anything, darn it!
And I just slightly part my lips, but the words don't have time to escape my mouth. From the corner of my eye, I still see how strong fingers loosen the tight knot of the tie, how sharply the Adam's apple twitches, and then my boss closes the last few inches between us and takes me into the embrace of his arms. Strong and hot.
He bursts into my mouth with an unrestrained hot kiss, passionately crumpling my plump lips. Crashes his tongue in, forcing mine, against my will, to respond, " intertwining with it in a crazy, wild dance. Sweet. Unrestrained.
I don't want to resist anymore. Instead, quite the opposite. It's like ecstasy, pure euphoria: to be in his embrace, to feel the fiery caresses, solid granite chest, and equally hard flesh that has pressed into my stomach.
Polansky is like a hungry man, greedily and insatiably pressing me to himself. Engraving. Strong, wide hands travel shamelessly across my back. Driving me wild, as well as the realization that he desires me no less.
My breathing is heavy and intermittent, and my pulse races " galloping at full speed. It roars in my ears, and I myself press to this muscular rock only tightly. Closer. I want it tighter, to exhaustion. And he responds.
A broad palm rests on my rounded buttocks, gently kneading the resilient flesh and pressing it into itself. I feel his engorged member even more distinctly and simply swoon from pure naked desire, a torrential passion that completely turns off all precautions. Only basic instincts remain. Yearning. And the only wanted object was him.
But this moment is brazenly interrupted by the sharp sound of the door swiftly opening. Still, I am so inflamed by him, his reciprocal desire, scorching touches, his scent, that I can't pull myself away, even when I hear a melodic female voice behind me.