"They were entwined with each other, luxuriating in the throes of passion, the man's robust body..."

I was hiding in my office, secretly penning the next development in my story, when a voice from behind me began to read my words aloud, one by one.

It was the new intern, a young man.

I trembled, pleading with him, "Please, don't tell anyone."

He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his hands bracing the edge of the desk, trapping me between his arms.

"So, this is what you like?" His throat bobbed, and a smile played on his lips, "Then, why don't we... try it out, just the two of us...

My name is Kate Portman, and I'm a junior supervisor at a company.

To save up for a house as soon as possible, I write... well, let's just say, spicy stories online in my spare time.

Today is the deadline for my submission, but of course, the entire building decided to lose power. Left with no choice, I sneak back to the office to finish my writing.

Fortunately, everyone else had already left for the day.

I sat down in my cubicle, opened my laptop, and lost myself in my work. The deeper I got into the writing, the more engrossed I became, especially the last section.

The main characters were having a torrid, passionate encounter. I could hardly believe what I was writing—my face turned crimson, and my heart was pounding wildly in my chest.

Finally, I typed the last word and let out a breath of relief. I was about to close the laptop when suddenly, a voice from behind read aloud the very words I had just written.

"They entwined with each other, lost in passion. His strong, muscular body…"

I spun around, startled, only to find Johnny Pierce standing behind me. How long had he been there?

He had just graduated from university and started interning under me last month. His towering height and striking good looks had already made him the subject of gossip among the office girls.

In our daily work, I guided him patiently, treating him like the inexperienced newcomer he was.

But today—he had caught me writing that kind of story!

"Joh... Johnny," my voice faltered, and I stumbled over my words. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

His sharp eyes gleamed with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he leaned in, a step closer.

"Kate, I've seen it all."

I froze, my pulse racing as I watched him approach. Before I could think, I instinctively tried to retreat, but he moved closer, pressing his palms down on the desk, trapping me between his arms.

I couldn't escape. I leaned back slightly, feeling the edge of the desk dig into my back.

Panic surged through me, and I felt tears welling in my eyes.

"D-don't tell anyone in the office," I stammered.

He smiled, his lips curling in a way that made my breath hitch, and his gaze was like molten steel.

"Don't worry. I won't say a word."

Just as I thought I could relax, he added, "But in exchange, Kate, you'll need to act out every scene you just wrote."

"What?" I blinked, stunned. Only then did I realize what he was implying.

My face—no, my whole neck—flushed scarlet, and I immediately shook my head. "No, no way."

"No way?" His voice was low, almost a challenge, as one of his hands slid around my waist.

Through the thin fabric of my shirt, I could feel the heat of his palm pressing against me.

"What if everyone at the office found out about your… private writings, Kate?"

The thought of it made my stomach churn. It would be worse than death itself.

After a moment of internal turmoil, I reluctantly nodded. I decided to just get through this, and then figure out what to do next later.

I followed Johnny back to his apartment.

Once inside, he turned on the air conditioning and kindly poured me a glass of juice, then winked at me. "Make yourself at home, Kate. I'm going to take a shower."

My face turned even redder, and I quickly looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

From the bathroom came the sound of water running, and I could just make out his silhouette through the frosted glass.

A heat, unfamiliar but undeniable, surged through me, spreading throughout my body.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to shake the images from my mind. I took a sip of juice, hoping it would calm my nerves.

To distract myself, I glanced around the room.

Johnny's apartment was spotless and minimalist—just a few pieces of furniture and electronics scattered about.

It was the perfect bachelor pad, completely devoid of any signs that a woman had ever been there.

"What are you looking at?"

His voice startled me, as he suddenly appeared by my side without a sound.

I turned and froze.

Johnny was standing before me, shirtless, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. His broad shoulders, smooth skin, and defined muscles made my throat go dry.

I couldn't help but gulp.

"Are you satisfied, Kate?" His voice was smooth, his eyes almost hypnotic.

I shivered, quickly averting my gaze. But he stepped closer, his long fingers brushing against my lips, his touch gentle but electrifying.

I flushed hotly, my entire face burning as I instinctively pulled back.

"What... What are you doing?" I managed to gasp.

"Kate, you've got some juice on your lips."

His finger, coated with a faint trace of pink juice, hovered in front of my face, sending a shock of heat straight to my core.

"I've already set the water temperature for you. You should go wash up, too."

"Uh... okay."

I was lost for words, unsure of what to do. But with a quick glance at him, I hurriedly made my way to the bathroom, escaping into the coolness of the shower to steady my racing heart.

The bathroom was a humid haven, the floor still damp from Johnny's recent shower.

In this unfamiliar environment, heavy with masculine energy, I slowly disrobed.

Although the door was securely locked, I remained vigilant, washing myself while keeping an ear out for any sounds from outside. I was terrified that Johnny might suddenly barge in.

Thankfully, my fears were unfounded, and I finished my shower in peace.

But then, a new problem arose. My dress was soaked with sweat and unwearable. How was I supposed to leave the bathroom?

After much hesitation, I bit my lip and cracked open the bathroom door, calling out in a soft voice, "Johnny, are you there?"

"What is it?" he responded quickly, causing me to hastily shut the door again in surprise.

"Um... do you have any clothes I could borrow?" I asked.

"I've hung some clothes on the hook behind the door. Can you see them?" he replied.

I looked towards the door and sure enough, there hung a crisp white shirt, presumably Johnny's, given its size. The shirt was clean and carried the fresh scent of laundry detergent.

I slipped it on in silence. The shirt was rather large for me, hanging loose and just long enough to cover my hips. Even with the top button fastened, a generous expanse of skin was visible below my neck.

Opening the door, I tiptoed towards the bedroom, my heart pounding harder with each step, my legs trembling uncontrollably.

Johnny was leaning against the headboard, engrossed in a stack of papers.

Curiosity piqued, I asked, "What's that?"

He looked up at me, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his eyes filled with admiration. "I'm studying the content of your writing."

My heart skipped a beat. When had he printed out my entire book?

I felt my legs give way beneath me.

He reacted swiftly, catching me before I fell and gently laying me on the bed.

His long fingers leisurely unbuttoned the shirt I was wearing. His eyes, heavy with desire, glowed faintly red as he huskily suggested, "Let's start from the first chapter."

I couldn't recall what I had written in the first chapter. I only remembered that I had intentionally made the opening extravagant and outrageous to attract readers. But that was purely for survival, and now I felt like crying.

"Is this how it goes?" he asked, his voice low and close to my ear. "Am I doing it right? Do you like it?"

Faced with Johnny's whispered questions, I was unable to respond, nor did I have the mental capacity to do so. I felt completely under his control, swept up in a whirlwind of passion, utterly lost.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped. He cradled my panting form in his arms and gently patted my back.

As I was drifting off to sleep, the desk lamp suddenly switched on, and he picked up the manuscript again.

"Why are you reading again?" I asked, confused.

"The first chapter isn't over yet. I can't remember the rest, so I'm revising it," he explained.

I was horrified. "No... it can't be... it can't be unfinished."

"Didn't you write it yourself?" he asked innocently, reading aloud from the manuscript. "After their intimate encounter, they still felt unsatisfied, so they decided to change locations and try something new..."

"Stop!" I screamed, covering his mouth, tears welling up in my eyes. "Please, let's stop for today."

He chuckled with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He kissed the hand I had used to cover his mouth and affectionately ruffled my hair. "How can we stop now? Wouldn't that make me seem incompetent?"

I thought he was going to let me off the hook, but to my surprise, he lifted me up by my hips. "I remember you like strawberries, don't you?"

Strawberries? A chill ran down my spine as I recalled a risqué scene I had written involving strawberries. The female protagonist was naked, blindfolded, and bound in the kitchen, her body covered in strawberries. The male protagonist patiently fed her the strawberries one by one.

My God... how perverted was I to have come up with such a scenario?

"Wait," I stammered, trembling as I grabbed his hand. "Don't..."

But he didn't allow me to refuse. He carried me into the kitchen and placed me on the cold countertop. The cold jolted through me.

I shivered as he lifted my ankles.

"Stop!" I cried out in fear, only to see a ripe, red strawberry in his hand.

"You said to eat it with... that," he said, pushing the strawberry towards me...