The executive corridor of Future Technologies was bathed in the dim, golden light of the evening lamps. Up ahead, near the elevator bank, Sarah Miller was standing still. She was clutching a leather portfolio against her chest, her knuckles white, staring at the floor numbers as if they held the secrets to the universe.

As Ethan approached, she jumped slightly, spinning around with a startled gasp that felt a bit too staged.

"Oh! Mr. Blake... I didn't see you there. I was just... heading down to check on some physical files in the archive. A small discrepancy in the tax filings from the Halbert era," said Sarah Miller.

Ethan stopped a few feet away, his expression unreadable. "The archives are in the opposite direction, Sarah. Those elevators go straight to the lobby and the garage," said Ethan.

Sarah's face flushed a deep crimson, and she looked at the elevator doors, then back at him. "Right. Of course. I must be more tired than I thought. It's been a... momentous day," said Sarah Miller.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open. Ethan stepped inside and waited. Sarah hesitated for a heartbeat, her eyes darting around the hallway before she followed him in. The doors hissed shut, sealing them in the small, mirrored box.

Ethan didn't say a word. He stood with his hands behind his back, looking straight ahead. A faint, almost imperceptible golden shimmer lit up his pupils as his [Erovision] activated.

Through the sharp lines of her professional suit, Ethan saw her aura. It wasn't the cold blue of the boardroom or the gray of fatigue. Sarah was glowing in a vibrant, pulsating pink. The color was thickest around her heart and neck, flickering with every shallow breath she took. She was projecting a level of arousal that contradicted her stiff posture.

"Is something wrong, Sarah? You're breathing quite heavily," said Ethan, his voice smooth and teasing.

"It's just... the ventilation in this building has always been poor. I'll have Robert look into it tomorrow," said Sarah Miller.

She was trying so hard to play the cool, collected executive, but her aura was betraying her every second. She shifted her weight, her hip accidentally—or perhaps not so accidentally—brushing against Ethan's leg.

The elevator reached the lobby. The doors opened, and Ethan stepped out immediately, walking toward the glass entrance where the city lights twinkled. He didn't look back, acting as if the encounter were already over.

"Have a good night, Sarah. Get some rest," said Ethan.

He heard her heels clicking frantically behind him. She wasn't going to let him go that easily. She hurried past the security desk, nearly tripping as she caught up to him near the exit.

"Ethan! Wait!" shouted Sarah Miller.

He stopped and turned, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Sarah was standing there, her hair slightly disheveled, looking far more human than she had all day.

"I... I just realized I can't find my car keys. I must have left them in the penthouse when we were talking. And my phone is dead, so I can't call a cab. It's quite late for me to be wandering around alone, don't you think?" said Sarah Miller.

Ethan let out a soft chuckle, looking down at her. He could see her pink aura flare even brighter at the sound of his laugh. Her attempt at seduction was remarkably clumsy for a woman of her intellect, and he found it oddly charming.

"You're a brilliant CFO, Sarah, but as a damsel in distress, you're quite unconvincing. We both know your keys are in your purse," said Ethan.

Sarah froze, her mouth slightly open. She looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. "I... well..." said Sarah Miller.

"But," Ethan continued, stepping closer until she had to tilt her head back to look at him, "I suppose I can't have my new executive stranded. Falcon is waiting. We're going to dinner, and you're coming with me."

He didn't wait for an answer and led her by the arm toward the black SUV idling at the curb. Falcon 20 opened the door, his eyes scanning the street before nodding to Ethan.

As soon as they slid into the darkened privacy of the back seat and the door clicked shut, the tension snapped. Sarah didn't wait for a menu or a drink. She lunged at him, her lips finding his in a kiss that was desperate, messy, and full of the hunger she had been hiding for years.

"Take us to The Gilded Lily, Falcon. Take the long route," said Ethan between kisses.

The driver nodded and the partition went up, drowning them in a dim, private space. The kisses deepened, his hands tangled in her hair while hers roamed his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt.

The heavy petting intensified. Ethan pulled her onto his lap. His lips left her mouth to trail down her neck, biting the sensitive skin just below her ear, making her moan and grind against him. His hand slid up her side, over her ribs, feeling the silk of her blouse.

But it was when his hand went back down, sliding under her skirt and up her inner thigh, that things got truly dirty. His fingers found the edge of her underwear a thin string. A thong.

Ethan pulled back, looking at her in the darkness. "A thong," he muttered, his voice a low, dirty rumble. "Why do you come to work dressed like such a slut, Sarah? Hoping someone finds out?"

Sarah laughed, a low, breathy sound. She leaned in and bit his earlobe. "I've always liked to feel this way," she whispered, her hot breath on his skin. "But I'd never let a dumb fuck like Vincent lay a finger on me. This... it's just for you."

That was all Ethan needed. With a grunt of approval, he hooked the string with his finger and pulled it aside. His fingers explored the wetness waiting for him, sliding over her making her gasp. She started grinding against his hand, chasing the friction, the pressure, as their lips met again in a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

The car began to slow. Through the window, the lights of The Gilded Lily blinked. Ethan slowly pulled his hand back, shamelessly licking his fingers clean.

"We're here, sir," Falcon's voice announced over the intercom.

Ethan ran a thumb over the corner of her mouth, wiping away a smear of lipstick. "Dinner's going to be interesting," he said with a wicked grin.

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