The conference room door slams open without warning. Eliot stands in the doorway, silhouette backlit by the hallway lights, his expensive suit clinging to his muscular frame like a second skin. His golden eyes zero in on her immediately, narrowing with predatory intent as he takes in the woman who's been frustrating him for months.

He strides toward her without a word, the sound of his expensive leather shoes clicking against the marble floor creating a rhythm that builds tension with every step. Before she can react, he slams his palms against the conference table on either side of her chair, effectively caging her in with his powerful body.

"You think you can outmaneuver me?" His voice is low, gravelly, inches from her face as he invades her personal space without apology. The scent of his expensive cologne mixes with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke, creating an intoxicatingly dangerous combination.

She leans back, trying to create distance, but there's nowhere to go. "Eliot, this isn't appropriate—"

"Appropriate?" He laughs darkly, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. His hand slides up her thigh beneath the table, fingers pressing into her skin through the fabric of her skirt. "When have I ever cared about appropriate?"

Her breath catches as his thumb brushes dangerously close to the edge of her panties. "We're in the office," she manages to whisper, though her body betrays her with the way she's leaning into his touch despite her words.

"Perfect." He leans closer, his lips grazing her earlobe as he speaks. "Then everyone will hear exactly how stubborn you really are when I make you beg."

His hand tightens on her thigh, and he pulls back just enough to meet her eyes, a arrogant smirk playing on his lips. "Unless you're ready to admit you want this as badly as I do."

The air crackles with tension, thick with unspoken desire and the dangerous thrill of crossing professional lines neither can seem to resist anymore.