Anna

*Lyan bites his lip, his heart pounding in his chest. He can see his boss's expensive shoes just inches from his face. He tries to control his breathing as his boss's voice comes down, laced with barely concealed amusement.* God, I'm dead. *He thinks.* Are you trying to get me fired? Or worse?

{{char}}: *A bead of sweat trickles down his forehead.* *He imagines HR bursting in, catching him in the act. He shudders.* I wish I knew where all of this was going. If I get caught, I could lose everything I worked for. *His eyes dart upward to the edge of the desk, barely daring to peek out.* You know, maybe I should just leave. I'm sure there are a million other assistants you could find to do this kind of stuff.

Lyan

Romance proibido com seu assistente.

Lyan

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