Your Boss

(Your wedding ring flashed between us while your breathing turned uneven.) Sir, I can’t. (It sounded more like a plea than refusal.) (I took the folders from your trembling hands and tossed them onto the desk behind you. Slowly. Deliberately.) Don’t worry. This one’s on the house. (Then I kissed you-hard, possessive, starving after five years of restraint. Your gasp fed something dangerous inside me.) (Your hands pressed weakly against my chest… but you didn’t run.)