Testing the Waters

Emma’s pulse thundered in her ears, Gabriel’s question—“How do you handle pressure?”—hanging between them like a dare. His gray eyes bored into hers, a flicker of something dark and thrilling in their depths. The air in the CEO’s cabin crackled, and Emma felt a reckless heat unfurl inside her. She wasn’t about to play the shy new girl—not when every instinct screamed that this office played by different rules.

She leaned forward slightly, her blouse tugging against her curves as she met his gaze head-on. “I handle pressure… very well, Mr. Alexander,” she said, her voice low, almost a purr. “But I’m curious—what kind exactly do you mean?” Her lips curved into a teasing smile, her eyes flicking to his mouth for a fraction of a second, just enough to make her intent clear.

Gabriel’s smirk deepened, a predator recognizing the game. He stood, his movements deliberate, and rounded his desk to lean against its edge, arms crossed over his broad chest. The motion brought him closer, his presence overwhelming, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a spell. “Bold answer, Emma,” he murmured, his tone laced with approval. “This office demands a certain… adaptability. Not everyone can keep up.”

Emma’s breath hitched, but she held his stare, her thighs pressing together under the desk as a delicious tension coiled low in her belly. “I’m not everyone,” she replied, her voice steady despite the heat flushing her skin. “Try me.”

For a moment, silence stretched, charged with unspoken possibilities. Gabriel’s eyes roamed over her, slow and deliberate, as if peeling back her professional facade to see the woman beneath. “Oh, I intend to,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-growl. “Let’s see how you perform under a real deadline.”

He straightened, glancing at his sleek wristwatch, the motion drawing her eyes to the strong lines of his hands. “There’s a file on the server—Q3 projections. I need ten copies printed, collated, and back on my desk in exactly three minutes.” He tapped the watch face, his gaze locking onto hers. “Starting now.”

Emma blinked, the sudden shift catching her off guard, but the glint in Gabriel’s eyes told her this was no ordinary task. This was a test, a power play, and the way he leaned against the desk, watching her with that maddening half-smile, made it clear he was enjoying every second. Her heart raced, not just from the time crunch but from the way his scrutiny made her feel—exposed, desired, challenged.

She stood, smoothing her skirt, and felt his eyes follow the motion, lingering on the curve of her hips. “Three minutes?” she said, arching a brow as she stepped toward the door. “I’ll be back in two.” The words were bold, a challenge of her own, and the low chuckle she heard from Gabriel as she left the cabin sent a shiver down her spine.

The office outside was quiet, most of the team gone for lunch. Emma’s heels clicked against the floor as she hurried to the printer room, her mind spinning. The task was simple, but the stakes felt higher, as if every move she made was being weighed. She logged into the server, her fingers flying over the keyboard, and sent the file to print. As the machine whirred to life, she glanced at the clock—two minutes left. Her body hummed with adrenaline, and something else: the thrill of Gabriel’s attention, the way he’d looked at her, like he was already imagining what else she could handle.

The papers spilled into the tray, warm to the touch, and Emma collated them with quick, precise movements. Her blouse clung to her skin, a faint sheen of sweat betraying the intensity of the moment. She stole a glance at her reflection in the glass door—flushed cheeks, eyes bright with excitement. Whatever this office was, it was waking something in her she hadn’t known existed.

With seconds to spare, she strode back to the CEO’s cabin, the stack of printouts in hand. Gabriel hadn’t moved, still leaning against his desk, his watch glinting as he checked the time. “Two minutes, fifty-eight seconds,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with something that made her pulse spike. He took the papers from her, his fingers brushing hers deliberately, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

“Not bad,” he said, setting the stack aside without breaking eye contact. He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. “But tell me, Emma—how do you feel right now? Rushed? Nervous?” His voice dropped lower, almost intimate. “Or something else entirely?”

Her breath caught, the room shrinking to just the two of them. The way he said it, the way he looked at her, made it clear he wasn’t just talking about the task. This was another test, another chance to show how far she’d go. Her body buzzed with the urge to push the boundaries further, to see where this game would take her.