Chase me

This Might Not Be a Mistake

They say be careful what you wish for, or you might just get what you want.

But when I saw Kliner standing there frozen, stunned, breathing like he’d just walked into his own undoing. I didn’t feel fear or shame.

I felt alive.

I felt seen.

I felt like fate had finally stopped teasing me and decided to act.

Everything I had imagined, every filthy, dangerous thought I had buried, stood right in front of me, breathing, real.

And yet he resisted me.

The way he refused to look at me told me everything.

Most men would have stared. Most men would have lost control instantly. But Kliner stood rigid, eyes fixed anywhere but on my body, jaw clenched tight, like discipline was the only thing holding him together.

That restraint made my thighs clench.

This isn’t good, I thought.

But I was already in too deep to stop. I didn’t want to stop.

I was ready to hunt.

“Don’t go,” I said softly, already knowing he would try.

“Shut the door and come closer.”

The words tasted sinfully right.

He hesitated. I felt it like a pulse in the room but his body betrayed him before his mind did; his shoulders stiffened, his breath hitched.

He wanted control.

So did I.

I rose slowly, deliberately, my shirt still unhooked, my breasts exposed without apology.

I didn’t rush him.

Men like Kliner didn’t break when you pushed, they broke when you waited.

When you let them sit inside the wanting until it consumes them.

I stepped closer.

His gaze dipped to my chest for half a second before he forced himself to look away.

That refusal ignited something sharp and territorial in my chest.

Look at me, I wanted to demand.

But I didn’t say it. I didn’t need to.

The shame, the hunger, the war between loyalty and desire, it was all written on him.

The kind of conflict that ruins men like him.

“What you saw,” I murmured, “it’s really nothing. But we can share a little secret, can’t we?”

My fingers pressed lightly against his chest, drifting down, testing, unhooking the button of his skirt slowly, deliberately. I touched him just enough to make him aware of how close I was.

He was shaking.

“You’re shaking,” I said quietly.

He denied it too quickly.

I laughed under my breath.

“You’ve always been very good at lying to yourself.”

“This stops now,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction. “You’re my boss. And my...”

“Family,” I finished for him.

Of course. That was always the excuse.

The shield he hid behind.

Silence stretched between us, thick and unbearable.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” I whispered.

“The way you freeze when I’m near? You don’t hide it as well as you think, Kliner.”

I leaned closer, my lips hovering near his ear, careful not to touch.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” I murmured. “Some moments exist just because they want to.”

Still, he resisted.

No one resisted me like this except my husband.

And I wasn’t prepared to accept that.

I stepped back, giving him space, turning toward my desk as if the fantasy could end there.

“You can walk out,” I said calmly, gesturing toward the door. “Right now.”

“If you do,” I continued, “we go back to pretending. Denying what we feel.”

He didn’t move.

A little glimpse of hope sparked.

“But if you stay,” I said, lowering my voice, “you accept that this changes things. There’s no innocence left after this.”

I watched his face carefully.

“I don’t know how to stop wanting this,” he admitted.

“Neither do I,” I said without hesitation.

I stepped toward him again.

Then…

The door creaked.

The interruption hit me like ice.

I turned away quickly, adjusting myself, anger and panic burning through me.

Thank God, it was only the janitor.

Still, I hated that she had seen anything at all.

I slipped back into myself: CEO and perfect wife.

Inside, my heart raced.

Not like this. Not yet.

Kliner handled her.

When she left, relief came but it didn’t last.

The door opened again.

Carlos, My husband.

Flowers in hand. That same dangerous calm he wore like a crown.

I watched Kliner retreat instantly, snapping back into place like none of this had ever happened.

I kissed Carlos. Smiled. I played my role perfectly.

But my mind stayed with Kliner.

With how close we’d come.

When Kliner excused himself, my chest tightened. We weren’t finished. Our eyes met briefly as he left.

Carlos droned on about business, failed deals, violence disguised as strategy.

I nodded, answered when required.

Then I noticed the janitor again. Still shaking.

Kliner threatened her, I realized.

Smart man.

That made me want him even more.

Good. He understood the stakes.

Still, loose ends bothered me. I was already considering transfers, dismissals, quiet solutions disguised as policy.

I’d deal with her later.

Carlos softened. “Let’s fix things,” he said. “Dinner. Just us.”

Fix things.

The irony almost made me laugh.

I nodded and kissed him softly

But his kiss did nothing to me. I felt empty. Impatient.

His eyes fell on the dildo on my table. He grabbed my face, forcing my gaze up.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

I smiled faintly.

I slipped my toy back into my bag and walked beside him, the perfect wife.

Outside, we bumped into Kliner.

The men exchanged jokes, but then Kliner mentioned finding the woman of his dreams.

Something dark twisted inside me.

The woman of his dreams?

Jealousy hit hard and ugly. The thought of him wanting another woman, touching her made my jaw tighten.

I reached for Carlos’ hand, entwining my fingers with his.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” I said sweetly.

My smile wasn’t kind.

It was possessive.

You don’t get to walk away untouched, I thought. Not after today.

This wasn’t over.

It was only the beginning.

And next time,

I wouldn’t let anything interrupt us.

Not even the janitor.