Lexy knew they had made a mistake.
She knew it in the way James' fingers lingered at the small of her back during meetings, in the way their stolen glances burned hotter than they should, in the way she lay awake at night replaying the sound of his voice murmuring her name in the dark.
They had agreed no more.
But agreements meant nothing when he texted her in the middle of the night.
James: I can't stop thinking about you.
Lexy stared at the message, her pulse spiking. She should ignore it. She should delete it.
Instead, her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Lexy: Then stop.
His reply came instantly.
James: Come to me.
A shiver ran down her spine. She bit her lip, hesitating for half a second before grabbing her coat.
This was insanity.
Fifteen minutes later, she was pressing the code to his penthouse, her heart hammering. The second the door opened, James was on her pulling her inside, pushing her against the wall, kissing her like he was starving.
"Tell me you don't want this," he growled against her lips.
Lexy moaned as his hands slid under her dress, hiking it up, his touch rough with urgency. "I can't."
And that was all it took.
He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom, his mouth claiming, demanding, relentless.
Clothes hit the floor in a frenzy, and when he finally sank into her, it was raw, deep, everything they had tried to deny and failed.
The room filled with breathless moans, whispered curses, the sound of skin against skin as they lost themselves in each other.
They were reckless.
And then, a sound.
A vibration.
James' phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Lexy barely registered it until she saw the name flashing on the screen of his wife.
Her blood ran cold.
James stilled, his breathing heavy against her skin. A long, tense pause filled the space between them.
Lexy swallowed hard. This was real. This was dangerous.
And still she knew she wouldn't stop