Promotion By Day Passion By Night

Start Reading

Good news: I slept with an absolute goddess.

Better news: We successfully turned it into a regular weekend arrangement.

Bad news: Shes my newly appointed boss.

My life is officially over.

01

Again.

The warm weight of her body pressed against mine, skin sliding against skin.

Again? I frowned, my voice gravelly.

My mouth was saying no, but my body was embarrassingly honest. I turned my head and captured her lips.

Victoria and I had spent the entire weekend tangled in her sheets, losing track of day and night. Even now, on Sunday evening, she looked deliciously insatiable, her eyes dark and heavy with intent.

I dug through the chaotic pile of clothes on the rug, pulling out my shirt with a monumental sigh. "I can't. Early morning all-hands meeting tomorrow. I absolutely cannot be late. Weve got a new CEO coming in, and I need to make a good impression."

She lay back against the pillows, her pale, elegant neck exposed to the dim light. A slow, lazy smile curved her lips. "Fine. See you next week."

"Count on it."

Monday morning. I was suffocating in a stiff suit, my corporate ID practically burning a hole in my chest as I sat in the conference room.

Paige, the team lead from the adjacent desk, leaned over, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Rumor has it the new CEO is gorgeous, young, and utterly terrifying."

I couldn't care less about the new CEO's aesthetic appeal. "I just pray to God shes an actual human being."

Our previous boss had been a tyrant who treated us corporate drones like disposable batteries. It took a miracle for him to get transferred out. I just wanted someone who didn't feed on misery.

The boardroom doors swung open. The room erupted into polite, enthusiastic applause as the new CEO stepped into the spotlight.

I looked up. My pupils dilated so fast the room blurred.

It was Victoria. My weekend arrangement.

The world is a sick, twisted joke. I wanted the floorboards to open up and swallow me whole.

Mercifully, the room was packed. She hadn't noticed me yet. I sank lower in my chair, my chin practically grazing the mahogany table.

Suddenly, an elbow jabbed my ribs. Paige hissed, "Miles. Ms. Mercer is calling on you."

"Who is Miles?" The voice was crisp, commanding, and hauntingly familiar.

I sucked in a sharp breath and dragged myself to my feet.

The moment her eyes locked onto mine, a flicker of genuine shock shattered her icy, corporate composure.

I felt a cold sweat prickle my spine. I had every reason to be terrified. When we met, Id told her my name was Preston Miles.

She stared at me. Two agonizingly long seconds ticked by. Then, a slow, predatory calm settled over her features.

"Mr. Preston," she said softly. "I understand your team is handling this project. Walk me through it."

02

I delivered the shortest, most frantic presentation of my career. Victoria only asked two brief, pointed questions.

The second the meeting adjourned, I bolted from the room like the building was on fire.

I wasnt kidding. During that excruciating sixty-minute meeting, I had drafted, revised, and finalized my resignation letter in my head.

But then reality hit. The economy was a nightmare. I had a mortgage, a car loan, and a bi-weekly deep-tissue sports massage habit I couldn't survive without. I decided I could just cover my ears, close my eyes, and keep cashing my paychecks.

Paige burst out of the conference room, practically vibrating. "Oh my god. Shes mother. Did you see her? The waist, the legs, that lethal gaze? Shes the absolute ceiling of female perfection."

"If we have to be corporate slaves, at least we get a view," she sighed dramatically. "I forgive the universe for three seconds."

I managed a weak laugh. "Girls appreciate beautiful women too, huh?"

"Obviously!" Paige swooned. "Even in that tailored suit, you can tell her body is ridiculous. Her aura is off the charts."

Ridiculous didn't even begin to cover it. It was flawless. And the way she felt under my hands was even better.

But the mere thought that the woman who had been whispering my name into a pillow twenty-four hours ago was now holding my career in the palm of her hand made me want to evacuate the planet.

The sharp click-clack of heels broke my spiraling thoughts. Rachel, the executive assistant, stopped at my desk. "Miles. Ms. Mercer would like to see you in her office."

I stood up. I was a dead man walking. Could a meteor just strike the earth now? Please?

03

The corner office was sprawling, a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sweeping, indifferent view of the city skyline.

"Ms. Mercer. You asked to see me?"

Victoria looked up from her laptop, her dark eyes lazily raking over my rigid posture. "Miles?"

"Yes, Ms. Mercer."

She arched a single, perfect eyebrow, a wicked amusement dancing at the corners of her mouth. "Preston?"

I played dumb. It was my only defense. "I'm sorry, Ms. Mercer. Who is Preston?"

She let out a soft, breathy laugh and leaned back in her leather chair, studying me like a particularly interesting puzzle. "Drop the act. There aren't two men on this earth with the exact same face and the exact same little mole."

My hand twitched. "What mole?"

Victoria raised her hand, her manicured fingertip lightly tracing the skin just behind her own ear. The gesture was dripping with an intimacy we both remembered perfectly.

Damn it. I have a small mole right behind my ear. The same spot this high-powered executive had been pressing open-mouthed kisses against just yesterday.

My face froze.

"Victoria Mercer is my real name, by the way," she said, her voice dripping with irony.

Well, the jig was up. She knew I'd given her a fake name.

I threw my hands up in defeat, offering a dry, hollow chuckle. "Small world, Ms. Mercer."

She smiled, low and dangerous. "So, Im the new CEO you needed to impress. If Id known, I wouldn't have let you leave my bed yesterday."

I practically put my hands together in prayer. "Victoria, please. At the office, can we just pretend we don't know each other? Strictly professional. No personal matters."

She looked at me for a long moment before giving a single, reluctant nod.

I fled the office before she could change her mind.

04

My relationship with Victoria was supposed to be purely physical. Friends with benefits. A transactional escape.

Six months ago, the girl Id spent years quietly pining over finally got a boyfriend. I was crushed. I took my bruised ego to an upscale cocktail lounge and ended up sitting next to Victoria.

She looked like she was having an even worse night than I was. To make matters worse, some creep at the bar had tried to slip something into her drink.

Im a decent guy. I warned her, helped her out of the bar, and flagged down a cab. But she wasn't just grateful; she was aggressive. Her hands were instantly on me.

I was vulnerable, mesmerized by her breathtaking face, and, honestly, thinking with my lower half. One thing led to another, and we ended up in her bed.

That first time had been chaotictwo strangers fumbling in the dark. But we figured each other out quickly, tangling together until the sky turned a bruised purple with the dawn.

Afterward, we established the ground rules: No feelings. Just bodies. Once a weekend.

We were ridiculously compatible in that department. Every time we met, it felt like we were trying to break the furniture. It was the ultimate, mind-numbing release from the exhausting grind of my life.

We never asked about each other's private lives. I naturally assumed she was just another overworked professional like me, surviving the corporate machine Monday through Friday and needing an outlet on the weekends.

Never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine she was a CEO. And not just any CEOmy CEO.

God.

05

For the first time in my life, I was dreading the weekend. And because I was dreading it, the week flew by with terrifying speed.

Victoria was buried in transition meetings. We only crossed paths once in the lobby caf, and I immediately pretended to take a phone call to avoid making eye contact.

Friday at noon, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Victoria.

[Where are we doing this weekend?]

We never used the same place twice. Sometimes a hotel, sometimes the backseat of her car, sometimes, when we were feeling reckless, somewhere secluded outside the city limits.

I typed out the excuse Id been rehearsing for three days: [Sorry, Ms. Mercer. Heading out of town for my mom's birthday.]

Victoria: [Alright. But I thought we agreed to keep things separated? When its personal, call me Victoria.]

Separated. Right. Like that was even remotely possible.

Especially not when, just that morning, I watched her verbally eviscerate the lead of the marketing team.

"Did you use your dick to think of this proposal?" she had asked, her voice dropping the temperature in the room to absolute zero.

The silence in the boardroom had been deafening. The marketing lead looked like he wanted to cry.

And honestly? Knowing his usual performance, it definitely wasn't a long thought.

When it was my turn to present, I felt like I was walking on a tightrope over a canyon of active volcanoes.

Victoria had listened, her face an unreadable mask, before offering a cool: "The theoretical framework is stunning, Mr. Preston, but did you bother to consider the actual logistical execution?"

I had stood there, speechless.

Seriously, how was I supposed to sleep with her now? Id rather take a vow of celibacy.

06

Another week passed. Right on schedule, her text arrived.

[Where to this weekend?]

Me: [Friend's wedding. I'm a groomsman in the next state over.]

Victoria: [You don't have a single hour of free time?]

Was it true what they said about women in their thirties? Her appetite was terrifying.

Me: [Nope. The drive alone is seven hours round trip.]

There was no wedding. I was just a coward.

Two weeks of forced celibacy was starting to claw at my sanity. On Saturday, I tried to take care of things myself at home, but it was useless. My mind inevitably drifted to Victoria, to the arch of her back and the taste of her skin, and I only ended up more frustrated.

Desperate for a distraction, I grabbed an Uber to the office. Making money was the only cure for misery.

But the moment I swiped my keycard and pushed through the glass doors, my soul left my body.

The universe hated me. Victoria was there.

She walked out of the breakroom, a mug of coffee in hand. She stopped, leaning against the doorframe, and arched an eyebrow.

"The next state over? Groomsman?"

I let out a dry, panicked laugh. "The wedding was... unexpectedly canceled."

She let out a short, sharp laugh, completely devoid of humor. "Miles. You are hiding from me."

07

I sat rigidly at my desk, plotting an escape route. But Victoria had already anticipated my flight response. My desk phone rang.

"Bring the Q3 projections into my office," she ordered, and hung up.

I grabbed the folder and knocked on her heavy oak door. It swung open before I could finish the second knock, and a hand grabbed my lapel, yanking me inside.

The door clicked shut. Victoria shoved me against it, her mouth crashing into mine. She tasted like dark roast coffee and expensive mint.

For a split second, I tried to push her away, my hands coming up to her shoulders. But then the familiar, intoxicating heat of her washed over me. Rationality snapped. I dropped the folder. My hands tangled in her hair, kissing her back with a starvation I hadn't realized I was harboring.

She hooked a leg around mine, her hands already working the buttons of my shirt.

Pieces of perfectly tailored corporate wear hit the floor. Her voice, husky and wrecked, brushed against my ear. "I didn't think we'd unlock the corner-office achievement so soon."

I groaned. I was never going to be able to look at her oak desk or those floor-to-ceiling windows the same way again.

Outside, the city lights flickered to life. Somehow, the afternoon had bled into the evening.

Damn it, Victoria. I came here to work!

When she emerged from her private executive washroom, her dark hair was damp, and a very distinct, reddish bruise marred her collarbone.

"There's a great spot downstairs. Let me buy you dinner," she offered, adjusting her watch.

I knelt down, gathering the scattered, thoroughly crumpled Q3 projections. "I'm not hungry."

Right on cue, my stomach let out a traitorous, echoing growl.

Victoria let out a low, muffled laugh. "Come on. Weve been working late. We deserve a meal."

I glared at her. She had entirely redefined the concept of working overtime.

08

The restaurant was a dimly lit, violently expensive place I only ever dared to visit with Paige and the team on payday.

Victoria barely touched her food, instead using her chopsticks to continuously place prime cuts of meat onto my plate.

It made my skin prickle with anxiety. "Ms. Mercer, please, eat. You don't need to serve me."

Her chopsticks paused in mid-air. "We are off the clock. Use my name."

I kept my mouth shut, an uncomfortable knot tightening in my chest.

Over the past six months, we had eaten together occasionally, but it was always rushed takeout in bed between rounds. Sitting across from her in a quiet, upscale restaurant, fully clothed, felt deeply intimate. It felt... real. And I hated it.

I focused entirely on destroying the steak in front of me, chewing like my life depended on it to avoid the silence.

By the time we walked out, a torrential downpour had overtaken the city.

Victoria jingled her keys. "I'll drive you."

I already had the ride-share app open. "No need. I'll get an Uber."

Current wait time: 100 people ahead of you.

Victoria glanced at my screen. "It's pouring. You'll be waiting an hour. Let's go."

I walked toward her sleek black Bentley, instinctively reaching for the rear door handle.

She stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Do I look like your chauffeur?"

I definitely wasn't going to treat my CEO like a driver. I moved toward the driver's side. "I'll drive."

She laughed, a genuine, chiming sound. "Get in the passenger seat, Miles."

The drive was silent, filled only with the rhythmic thrum of the windshield wipers.

I stared out at the blurred city lights, my mind racing. Sleeping with Victoria had been the single most rebellious, uncharacteristic thing I had ever done. I liked the borders of my life drawn in thick, unyielding ink. Work was work. Pleasure was pleasure. Victoria had been a beautiful, localized storm I could step into on weekends. She knew my body, but she didn't know me. That anonymity made it safe.

But now she was the sky I worked under every day. Could I ever look at her across a boardroom table without remembering the sounds she made? If people found out, my career would be a punchline.

I despised the unknown.

As the car pulled up to my building, I unbuckled my seatbelt and forced myself to meet her eyes.

"Victoria. We need to end this. We shouldn't see each other on the weekends anymore."

Her expression shifted, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing her face. "Why? Just because I'm your boss now?"

I couldn't say yes. I still had to report to her on Monday.

"I just think it's time to stop. This was never meant to be a long-term arrangement."

The warmth drained from her face, replaced by a cold, impenetrable mask.

I practically threw open the door and bolted into the rain.

My chest felt tight, an uncomfortable, hollow ache settling behind my ribs. I shook my head, letting the cold rain hit my face. You're just going through withdrawal, I told myself. You're just going to miss the sex.

09

Monday morning. I had barely set my bag down when Paige rolled her chair over, her face a portrait of utter tragedy.

"Its over for us," she whispered dramatically. "The Queen is taken."

"What?"

"She has hickeys on her collarbone! Dark ones. Someone was going to town on her."

I choked on my own spit.

Paige sighed. "I mean, a woman that gorgeous was bound to be off the market, but it still breaks my heart."

For the rest of the day, the internal office chat was a warzone of speculation about the CEOs mysterious, feral boyfriend.

[Whoever he is, hes aggressive. There was more than one mark.]

[I bet he bit her. And she didn't even try to cover it up!]

[Honestly? Good for her. Get it, Ms. Mercer.]

[It feels like a flex. Half the VPs in this building have been drooling over her.]

I stared at my monitor, my vision swimming. Guys, please. Have some dignity.

It was me. I was the feral boyfriend. Even though no one knew, the paranoia alone was enough to shave years off my life.

Thank God I was flying to Chicago tomorrow for a site visit. A whole week of not looking at Victoria Mercer's collarbone.

Tuesday morning. Airport terminal. I pulled my carry-on toward the VIP lounge, whistling softly as I looked for Mr. Mitchell, the VP I was traveling with.

I froze.

Why was Victoria sitting there, casually sipping a latte with her assistant, Rachel?

Victoria was dressed down in an effortlessly chic cashmere sweater, her dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. She looked up, her eyes locking onto mine with terrifying precision. "Morning, Miles."

I looked around frantically. "Where is Mr. Mitchell?"

"A sudden, severe stomach bug," she said smoothly. "Im stepping in."

My ears rang. The sky was falling again.

10

I had to admit, Victoria wasn't a bad travel companion. She immediately upgraded Rachel and me to First Class without a second thought.

Working closely with her over the next few days, I realized she was actually a phenomenal leader. She didn't waste words. She was objective, ruthless when necessary, but always fair. She was a million times the executive our last boss had been.

Since she took over, my job had actually become manageable. It made me want to protect my career even more.

The negotiations in Chicago went smoothly until the final dinner. It was time to sign, but the client, a sleazy guy named Carlson, decided to throw his weight around.

At the dinner table, he kept pouring me shots of Baijiu, demanding we drink to "cement the partnership." I hated the stuff, but I braced myself, raising the glass.

A pale hand reached out and clamped over my wrist.

"Mr. Carlson," Victoria said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "I'll drink with you."

"I can handle it," I muttered, trying to pull my hand back.

Her grip tightened. It was an iron command. My heart did a strange, traitorous little stutter.

By the end of the night, the contract was signed, but Victoria was obliterated.

I practically carried her back to the hotel. She leaned all her weight against me, her eyes hazy, muttering curses under her breath. "Filthy... disgusting prick."

"Who?" I asked, struggling with the room key.

"Carlson. If Madeline didn't care so much about this merger, I would have drowned him in his own liquor."

"Who is Madeline?"

Silence. The woman draped over my shoulder had passed out entirely.

11

With the contract secured, our flight was booked for the next afternoon.

Riley, my oldest childhood friend, happened to live in Chicago. We met up at a dive bar to catch up, trading embarrassing stories and throwing back cheap beers.

By the time we stumbled out onto the sidewalk, it was past eleven, and we were arm-in-arm, laughing hysterically.

"Miles, you corporate sellout! Don't forget the little people!" Riley shouted.

"Never, Ri! You're my ride-or-die!"

We took two unsteady steps before our path was abruptly blocked.

I blinked, my eyes focusing on a figure standing under the streetlamp. It was Victoria. Her face was carved from ice.

"Victoria?" I slurred slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"Where are you going?" she demanded, her voice tight.

"Back to the hotel."

Riley's apartment was an hour away in the suburbs, so the plan was for her to crash on my hotel sofa for the night.

Victoria's eyes darted to where my arm was wrapped around Riley's shoulders. The ice shattered, revealing something raw and terrifying.

She stepped forward and physically shoved Riley away from me.

"You're going to sleep with her?" Victoria's voice cracked. She looked devastatingly betrayed. "You can sleep with her? But not me? Is her body better than mine? Is she better in bed? Are you more compatible?"

I stood there, paralyzed by the sheer wind force of her jealousy. "Huh?"

She was looking at me like I was the ultimate scumbag who had just broken her heart.

It took me three minutes of frantic, sobered-up explaining to convince her that Riley and I had been friends since we were in diapers, and that the thought of sleeping with her was medically repulsive to both of us.

Only then did the storm clouds in Victoria's eyes part, her rigid posture finally relaxing.

12

Victoria insisted on walking back with us, helping me drag a now-unconscious Riley into my hotel room.

Victoria stood at the foot of the king-sized bed, staring down at my snoring friend with a deep frown.

"She is a woman, correct?" Victoria asked flatly.

I nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

Victoria turned to me, her logic impenetrable. "You are a man. Sleeping in the same room as a woman is inappropriate."

I stared at her. Riley and I had taken baths together when we were toddlers. She was essentially my sister.

But trying to argue with a drunk, stubborn Victoria seemed like a losing battle. "Fine. I'll go down to the lobby and book another room."

"No need," Victoria said, not missing a beat. "You'll sleep in my room."

Wait. We were a man and a woman. Wasn't that also inappropriate?

But she didn't give me time to process the hypocrisy. She grabbed me by the shoulders and marched me down the hall into her executive suite.

I was too exhausted to fight it. It wasn't like we hadn't shared a bed before. I grabbed a bathrobe and headed into the bathroom.

A second later, the door clicked shut, and Victoria stepped inside.