That Saturday evening I escaped to my favorite dimly lit bar, the one with the low jazz and amber lighting that made everything feel like a secret. I ordered my usual-a dirty martini, extra olives-and then another. And another. Richard had left again that morning for another "critical" trip. No goodbye kiss. No promise of when he'd be back. Just the sound of the front door closing behind him like a full stop.

By the fourth cocktail, the room tilted softly. My anger had curdled into something sharper-grief, maybe, or self-loathing. I replayed our last fight in vicious loops.

I'd cornered him in the bedroom, voice cracking.

"Tell me what I've done. Tell me why you treat me like I disgust you."

He'd caught my wrists when I shoved at his chest, not hard, just desperate.

"Get a grip, Payton," he'd said quietly, eyes flat. "I'll be back in a week. We'll talk then."

Then he walked out

Now the alcohol burned behind my eyes. I pushed off the stool, unsteady, determined to get home before I embarrassed myself further.

The floor rushed up.

Strong arms caught me before I hit the tiles.

That scent-clean cedar, expensive aftershave, something darkly masculine-hit me like memory.

I looked up through the haze.

Teddy.

"Oh great," I slurred, laughing once, bitterly. "Now I'm hallucinating."

My hand lifted on its own, fingertip tracing the sharp line of his jaw, then brushing across his lips.

"Oh, Teddy..."

He caught my finger gently between his teeth-a small, teasing bite-then released it.

"Are you drunk?" Concern edged his voice, but his eyes were dark, pupils blown.

Instead of answering, I surged up and kissed him.

It was reckless, hungry, three years of pent-up want poured into one collision. His mouth opened under mine instantly, hot and sure. His hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him until there was no space left for guilt. I moaned into the kiss as his tongue slid against mine-slow, claiming-and my fingers curled into his shirt like I'd drown if I let go.

We broke apart gasping, foreheads pressed together, his breath ragged against my swollen lips.

"Wow," he whispered, the word rough.

My head was spinning, but clarity was creeping back in cruel waves.

"What... what is happening right now?"

He tilted my chin up with two fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"I must be very drunk. I'm so sorry." I tried to step back.

His hand closed around my wrist-not tight, just enough to stop me.

"Where are you going?"

I stared at him, chest heaving.

"What's wrong? Teddy, I'm married. This never happened. I have to go."

"At least let me take you home."

I closed my eyes, took a shaky breath.

"You don't have to. I'm... I'm sober enough now. I'll take a taxi."

I pulled free and walked away on trembling legs, feeling his stare burn into my back the entire way to the door.

Monday morning the elevator bank was crowded, air thick with coffee breath and Monday dread.My phone buzzed.

Richard: Baby! Sorry for not messaging sooner. Been slammed. Will call later. Love you.

I stared at the screen until it blurred, then shoved the phone into my bag without replying.

A warm presence appeared at my side.

Teddy.

I kept my eyes on the floor numbers, cheeks burning.

"Good morning, sir," I mumbled.

The doors opened. People shuffled out. We stepped in. The doors closed-and suddenly it was just us.

He moved in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Don't even think of avoiding me," he said quietly.

His hand rose, fingertips stroking slowly through the blunt ends of my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear.

"Sir, please," I whispered, the plea thin and unconvincing.

"I told you," he said, voice dropping lower, "call me Teddy."

Those eyes-storm-dark now, unblinking-held mine hostage.

The elevator dinged. Doors slid open.

He stepped back smoothly, as though nothing had happened.

"Come to my office," he said loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, already walking away. "I need to talk to you."

I stood rooted in the hallway, heart slamming against my ribs.

I glanced around-no one was watching. Phones, conversations, rushing footsteps. Business as usual.

I swallowed hard.

Guilt and want twisted together in my stomach, sharp and sickening.

I should turn around. Go back to my desk. Pretend the weekend never happened.

Instead my feet moved.

One step.

Then another.

By the time I reached his door, my pulse was deafening. Pleasure-hot, traitorous-curled low in my belly, warring with the shame that tasted like bile.

I lifted my hand to knock.

Even if I denied myself, every trembling inch of me was already screaming for him.

I stood outside his door for what felt like an eternity, heart slamming against my ribs so hard I was sure the entire floor could hear it. One deep, shaky breath. Then another. My fingers curled into a fist, nails biting into my palm, before I finally raised my hand and knocked-three soft, uncertain taps.

The door opened almost instantly.

Teddy didn't speak. He simply reached out, fingers closing around my wrist like a manacle made of heat, and pulled me inside with one swift, possessive tug. The door clicked shut behind us before I could even draw a full breath. My back hit the wall with a soft thud, and suddenly he was everywhere-his body pinning mine, one thigh sliding between my legs, hands braced on either side of my head.

"I want you," he growled against my ear, voice rough and low. His tongue traced the sensitive shell, then dipped lower to flick the spot just behind my lobe-my secret weakness, the one that always turned my knees to liquid.

A broken sound escaped me. My hands flew to his biceps, gripping hard to keep from collapsing. "Teddy..."

He lifted his head just enough to look at me-those blue eyes dark with raw hunger. I felt the thick, insistent press of his arousal against my thigh, hot and unyielding through our clothes. My breath hitched. God, someone drag me out of here before I beg.

His hand moved between us, cupping one breast through my blouse, thumb circling the already-hard nipple until I arched involuntarily. "I can't take it anymore, Payton," he rasped, voice fraying at the edges. "I need you beneath me. I need to feel my cock buried deep inside you-slow at first, then hard. So hard you forget every other name but mine."

" Please stop I..I can't do this." I whispered but didn't push him away.

He leaned in and licked the seam of my parted lips, tasting me, teasing, before claiming my mouth in a kiss that felt like possession. Savage. Desperate. His free hand slid to my thigh, hooking under my knee and lifting one of my leg to wrap around his hip. My skirt rode up as his palm glided higher, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my ass with bruising force.

"Fuck," he groaned into my mouth, the word vibrating against my tongue.

I was lost. Every starved nerve in my body screamed for more. Three years of denial had left me hollow, aching, and now every cell was alight with the promise of being filled, stretched, taken. I wanted it rough. I wanted the edge of pain that would finally drown out the emptiness. I wanted him to fuck me until I couldn't remember why I'd ever tried to resist.

Please," he whispered against the frantic pulse at my neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire down to my collarbone. "Let me fuck you, Payton. Please."

The words stopped me cold.

Wait-what am I doing?

Slowly, I dropped my leg and pushed him away, my hands shaking.

"Please... I can't do this," I said,

breathless. "I'm married."

He was breathing just as hard.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

But he didn't listen. He pressed me back against the wall, tried to kiss me again. I turned my face away-

-and then the office phone rang, shattering the moment.

We paused, frozen, as his office phone erupted into relentless ringing. Neither of us moved. I blinked a few times, then gently pressed my palm against his chest, easing him back.

"You should get that," I said quietly.

His expression darkened in an instant-anger flashing through those fearless eyes.

"Hell, who could that be?" he muttered.

He finally released me and stepped away, but not before helping smooth my skirt back into place with careful, almost reluctant hands.

"I should go," I said, quickly adjusting my blouse and hair. I slipped out of his office before either of us could say anything more.

I nearly collided with Brooke in the hallway.

My heart lurched.

"Hey, Payton," she said brightly. "I swung by your office earlier, but you weren't there. Looks like you were just leaving our resident sexy boss's domain."

I forced a casual smile. "Of course. I'm his assistant, remember?"

"That's just a fancy excuse to see him every day," she teased, her eyes narrowing with playful suspicion.

"brooke stop. Please." I sighed. "I'm married. I love my husband. I'm not gossiping about this kind of thing."

She raised both hands in mock surrender.

I brushed past her. "I have to get back to work. You should too."

Back at my desk, I couldn't focus on anything. My mind replayed the heat of Teddy's mouth on mine, the way his hands had gripped me, the ache still pulsing between my thighs. I was restless, needy, and wet. I paced my small office until I finally dropped into my chair.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Richard. I needed to hear his voice-needed the reminder that I was married.

"Hello, babe," I said when he picked up.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Let's make up already," he replied, sounding genuinely remorseful.

"Richard, I miss you so much," I said, my voice cracking slightly. "When are you coming back? This is driving me crazy. I want to have sex with you. Is that really too much to ask from my husband?"

He went quiet for a long moment. "I understand. I'll make it up to you."

"When?" I pressed.

"When I get back. I have to go now. I love you." The line went dead.

Frustration crashed over me like a wave. Tears stung my eyes. Deep down, I already knew he'd have another excuse when he finally returned. He always did.

Still drowning in that familiar ache and disappointment, my office phone rang . I cleared my throat and answered.

"Hello, Payton speaking."

"The meeting with E&Y has been moved to Hawaii," Teddy's voice filled the line-cool, professional, all business. "We leave Friday."

"But sir-"

"No buts. It's strictly business. Start making the preparations." He hung up without waiting for a reply.

I exhaled slowly. His tone had been clipped, detached-like he'd already rebuilt the wall between us. Maybe pushing him away earlier had worked. Maybe he'd stop looking at me like that. Maybe he'd even start ignoring me completely.

It should feel like a relief. He was my boss, after all.

I stared at the phone for a long moment, then forced myself to open my calendar.

This was for the best.

I repeated the words in my head, trying to convince myself I didn't secretly wish he still wanted me.

Then suddenly.

Throughout the week, things between me and Teddy stayed strictly professional. No lingering glances, no stolen moments-just cold, efficient business. He'd changed overnight, and it felt like a slow-motion nightmare. I couldn't figure out what was going through his head or why he'd suddenly decided to pretend I didn't exist. Part of me told myself it was for the best. I almost believed it.

Thursday evening, I was at home folding laundry when I tried calling Richard. The call wouldn't connect, so I left a quick voicemail: "Hey, I'm heading to Hawaii tomorrow for a business meeting with my boss. Call me when you receive this."

The next morning at eight sharp, I climbed into a cab and headed to the airport. Teddy was already there, waiting in the terminal hallway-tall, imposing, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, wheeling a sleek suitcase, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. He watched me approach without a word.

When I reached him, he gave a curt nod.

"Let's go."

He turned and walked. I followed.

The flight from New York was long. By the time we landed in Hawaii that evening, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. We checked into our various rooms, I immediately dropped my bag, and headed straight for the bathroom. The deep, clean tub called to me. I sank into steaming water, letting the heat loosen the knots in my shoulders, trying not to think about what came next.

Later, wrapped in the hotel's soft white robe, I sat on the edge of the bed scrolling through my phone. No messages from Richard. Nothing.

A knock startled me.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Teddy."

I stood quickly, happily but trying my best to look professional before opening the door.

God, he looked good. Fresh from his own shower, hair still slightly damp, wearing a crisp white button-down and tailored black trousers. His gaze locked on me, steady and unreadable.

"May I come in?"

"Of course." I stepped aside, gesturing him into the room.

I turned to face him. "So... what's up?" My voice held a flicker of excitement I couldn't quite hide.

"The meeting starts tonight," he said. He stepped closer, voice lowering. "I'd like you to dress... a little sexy this evening." His eyes traced me slowly. "Can I count on you?"

"Certainly." The word came out softer than I intended.

He reached out suddenly, fingers curling gently around the back of my neck, thumb brushing slow circles against my skin. Heat flared through me.

"What did I tell you about calling me 'sir'?"

"I thought we were keeping things professional these days," I murmured.

Something flickered in his expression-memory, maybe regret. He released me and stepped back.

"Call me when you're ready. I'll be waiting in the lobby." At the door he paused, glancing back. "Please hurry."

I smiled to myself after he left. He was still affected. Good.

I chose the red gown-the long, clinging one that left most of my back bare. When I stepped into the lobby, Teddy's eyes darkened with appreciation.

"You look stunning," he said quietly, offering his arm.

"Thank you." I slipped my hand through it.

"Shall we?"

We walked side by side into the warm Hawaiian night.

At the upscale restaurant, we were deep in conversation with the client when I glanced through the wide glass window-and froze.

A man who looked exactly like Richard was walking past, arm around a young woman. They were laughing, heads close. My stomach dropped.

It couldn't be him. Richard was supposed to be in Seattle on business. It had to be a mistake.

But curiosity-and dread-pulled me to my feet.

"Excuse me," I said abruptly.

Teddy's brow furrowed. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back."

I slipped outside and followed them at a distance until they disappeared into a nearby resort. Hidden behind a palm, I watched as Richard kissed her-deep, familiar, laughing against her mouth. They hugged like lovers who'd known each other forever.

My chest cracked open. Richard, my steady, dependable husband, a cheater? I couldn't believe it. No wonder he hadn't touched me in years. He'd been getting his pleasure somewhere else. What had I done that was so unforgivable? One terrible mistake-one I hadn't even chosen-and this was the punishment?

I took a step forward, ready to storm over and demand answers.

A firm hand closed around my arm.

"Don't," Teddy said quietly. "Don't make a scene."

I whirled on him. "That's my husband. He's supposed to be in Seattle. Instead he is here with another woman."

"I know." His voice was gentle, almost tender. "But you're shaking. You're not thinking straight. Confront him later-when the anger isn't burning through you."

Tears blurred my vision. I looked back at Richard one last time, then turned into Teddy's chest and clung to him.

"Please," I whispered, voice breaking. "Take me back to the hotel."

He held me for a long moment, steady and warm.

I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.

"And fuck me, Teddy."

Back in the hotel lobby, the air felt thick with everything unsaid.

"Take me to your room," I whispered.

"Payton, stop. Not like this." Teddy's voice was gentle as he brushed the tears from my cheeks. "You're just angry."

"No. I want to be with you tonight. Nothing has to happen-just comfort me, Teddy. Please." I pressed myself against him, arms wrapping tight around his waist, face buried in his chest.

He sighed, then led me upstairs without another word

.

Inside his room, a bottle of champagne sat chilling on the small table beside the bed. I dropped into the chair, poured a generous glass, and drank deeply.

"Whoa, easy," Teddy said, watching me finish the second glass in quick succession. "That stuff is stronger than it looks." He settled on the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving me.

I yawned, stretching my arms overhead. "My shoulders are killing me. Will you massage them?" I poured another glass and met his gaze as I drank.

"That's enough." He stood and crossed the short distance, gently prying the glass from my fingers. The moment he did, I rose, pushed him back into the chair, and straddled his lap.

"Oh, Teddy..." I tilted his chin up, grinding slowly against the hard length already straining beneath me. "You're not going to leave me like this, are you?" I knew I was already drunk. Maybe I actually wanted to get drunk so I can finally unleash this want inside me without guilt.

For a long time, I felt so guilty about my feelings for Teddy and tried desperately not to betray my husband. But after what I saw and witnessed today, I don't care anymore. Richard has been cheating on me this whole time.

How cruel.

I gasped as his hands found my ass, gripping firmly. "Are you sure about this, Payton?"

"Yes." I leaned in and kissed him hard, tongue sweeping into his mouth. "Please... fuck me. Hard."

I wanted him-badly. My lips moved over his jaw, his cheeks, his neck. I sucked at the sensitive skin there until he moaned, fingers twisting in my hair, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, then slid the thin strap of my dress down one shoulder, then the other. His gaze stayed locked on mine as his hands cupped my breasts. I gasped, head falling back. A second later his mouth closed over one nipple, warm and insistent. I trembled under the assault, clutching his head to my chest while his other hand slipped beneath my dress, pushing my panties aside to find me already wet.

My mouth fell open in a raw, needy cry. He captured my lips again in a deep, consuming kiss. My fingers fumbled with his belt, then his zipper. The moment his cock sprang free, I wrapped my hand around him, stroking firmly. Another low moan rumbled from his throat.

"Fuck... yes," he breathed.

In one swift motion he stood, lifting me with him, and tossed me onto the bed. I laughed breathlessly as he stripped off the rest of his clothes, arousal written in every taut line of his body. He circled the bed slowly while I hurried to shed my own dress and underwear, leaving myself bare for him.

"I want it hard," I said, voice husky. "Do you mind?"

"Please," he growled, "take me as hard as you can."

He was on me in an instant, dragging me to the edge of the mattress, spreading my thighs wide. His mouth descended, tongue finding my most sensitive spot. I arched off the bed, screaming his name.

"Fuck-yes, Teddy! Give it to me-please-haaa... fuck!"

I came hard against his mouth, thighs shaking. He held my legs up, keeping me open as he rose and slowly pushed inside me. My eyes rolled back; for a heartbeat my breath simply stopped. Pleasure so sharp it felt like dying.

He froze, concern flashing across his face. "Payton? Payton-"

A hard slap to my cheek jolted me back. I sucked in a huge, ragged breath, then burst out laughing, wrapping my legs around his waist. "Don't stop."

"You crazy woman," he muttered, a grin breaking through. Then he drove into me harder, faster.

I rolled us so I was on top, riding him with a desperate rhythm. We both moaned, the sounds blending into cries. "On your stomach," he ordered.

I obeyed instantly. He positioned himself behind me and took me from behind, deep and relentless. The room filled with our gasps, our curses, our shared release as we fucked through the night.

Morning light slipped through the curtains. My head throbbed from the champagne and the hours of exertion, but I smiled anyway. Teddy slept beside me, face soft and peaceful-beautiful in a way that stole my breath. Last night was incredible.

Then Richard's face flickered in my mind. He might have had his own wild night. The thought should have hurt more, but right now it felt distant, almost irrelevant.

I slipped quietly from the bed and started dressing, searching for my panties.

"Looking for these?" Teddy's sleepy voice. He held the scrap of lace between two fingers, eyes half-open, mischievous.

I laughed softly. "So you're awake."

He caught my wrist before I could grab them and tugged me back into his arms. I looked up at his slow, sleepy smile.

"You weren't trying to sneak out, were you?"

"I was... sort of. We still have that morning meeting before we fly home."

He brushed a strand of hair from my face. "You were fucking amazing last night.

Makes me not want to go home at all."

Then he kissed me-slow, lingering.

"Not yet," he murmured against my lips.

In one fluid motion, he rolled on top of me, his lips crashing against mine in hungry, teasing kisses. I burst out laughing as his fingers danced along my sides, tickling me mercilessly.

"Stop-please, Teddy!" I gasped between giggles.

He paused, hovering above me, eyes dark and intense. For a long moment he simply stared.

"You look magnificent," he murmured, voice low and reverent.

A slow smile curved my lips. I pressed my thigh firmly against him, biting my lower lip as heat bloomed between us. He caught both my wrists in his right hand, pinning them gently above my head. His left hand slid down, cupping one breast, thumb brushing over my nipple until it hardened under his touch. A soft moan escaped me. I squeezed my thigh harder against his growing arousal.

Then his mouth replaced his hand-warm, wet, deliberate. He sucked gently, teasing the sensitive peak with slow circles of his tongue while his fingers continued their tender exploration. He released my wrists, and my hands immediately found his hair, threading through the strands as waves of pleasure rolled through me.

This was the first time in years I'd felt truly alive-like color flooding back into a world that had gone gray.

"Teddy..." I whispered, voice trembling.

His hand drifted lower, fingers finding my clit with exquisite gentleness. He rubbed slow, deliberate circles, watching every flicker of reaction on my face.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, voice rough with want. "Completely satisfied."

He guided me up until I was straddling his lap. His eyes never left mine as he positioned himself, sliding the thick length of his cock slowly along my inner thighs, teasing without entering. The heat of him, the deliberate drag of skin on skin, made my breath hitch.

This time we moved differently-slowly, deliberately. Our gazes locked, unblinking. Something electric sparked between us, bright and undeniable. We rocked together in a gentle, glorious rhythm, bodies speaking what words never could.

It felt like a dream I'd stopped daring to have.