It was my third week as an intern, and I was still trying to prove myself. The office was quiet that evening, most people already gone. I stayed behind to finish a draft report that my mentor, Ms. Taylor, had asked for. She was sharp, confident, and carried herself in a way that made everyone listen when she spoke.
I was typing away when her voice startled me.
“You’re still here?” she asked, stepping into the room.
I looked up. She wore a fitted blazer and skirt, her hair tied back neatly. Even after a long day, she looked flawless.
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to sound nervous. “I wanted to polish the report before tomorrow.”
Her lips curved into a small smile. “Good. I like initiative.” She walked closer, heels clicking softly on the floor. “Mind if I take a look?”
I shifted my chair as she leaned over my shoulder, her perfume wrapping around me, something floral, soft but distracting. Her hand rested lightly on the back of my chair as she scanned the screen.
“You’re improving,” she said finally. “But your conclusions are too thin. Clients like detail, they need to feel you’ve thought about everything.”
“Got it,” I said quickly.
Her fingers tapped lightly on the desk beside me. “Don’t rush. Precision matters. Here, let me show you.”
She sat on the edge of my desk, close enough that our knees touched. Opening the report on my laptop, she pointed at a paragraph, her sleeve brushing against my arm. My heart raced, but I tried to focus on her words.
“See this section?” she said, eyes on the screen. “It should be stronger. Don’t just write what happened, explain why it matters.”
Her tone was firm, but her eyes had softened. She glanced at me, holding my gaze a little longer than normal. My breath caught.
“You’re listening, right?” she teased, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“Yes,” I said quickly, though my voice cracked.
She laughed softly, leaning back on her hands. “Relax. You’re doing fine.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The office was silent except for the hum of the air conditioner. She tilted her head, studying me in a way that felt less like a mentor and more like… something else.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you remind me of myself when I started, eager to impress, staying late, working harder than anyone else.”
I swallowed hard. “Guess I just don’t want to mess this up.”
Her smile faded into something more serious. She reached out, her fingers brushing mine on the desk. “You won’t.”
The touch lingered. My pulse quickened. I should have pulled back, but instead, I held her gaze. The air between us shifted, heavier now.
“Ms. Taylor…” I started, but she cut me off.
“Call me Claire,” she said, her voice low.
The name felt intimate on my lips. “Claire.”
She leaned closer, her hand sliding over mine, her face inches away. I could see the faint shimmer of gloss on her lips, the sharp focus in her eyes.
“This probably shouldn’t happen,” she whispered.
“Then stop me,” I whispered back.
But she didn’t stop. She kissed me.
It started soft, testing, but quickly deepened. Her tongue brushed mine, and my hands found her waist. She climbed fully onto the desk now, pulling me between her legs, her blazer falling open.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” she murmured against my lips.
I groaned as her nails grazed my neck, pulling me closer. My hands slid along her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. She gasped softly, her breath catching as I kissed down her neck.
“You’re bold for an intern,” she teased, her voice shaky.
“You started it,” I muttered, making her laugh breathlessly.
The laugh turned into a moan as I pressed against her, our bodies grinding together on the desk. Papers crumpled under her, pens rolling to the floor. She didn’t care, and neither did I.
“God, right here,” she gasped, her hands clutching my shirt.
I lifted her slightly, sliding deeper between her legs. Her head fell back, lips parted as pleasure overtook her. The sound of her moans filled the office, mixing with the faint creak of the desk under us.
She whispered my name, urging me faster, harder. The control she always showed in meetings was gone now, she was breathless, undone, completely lost in the moment.
Her whole body trembled as release hit her, her cry muffled against my shoulder. I followed soon after, groaning as I buried myself in her, every muscle tense with pleasure.
For a moment, the world disappeared. It was just us, mentor and intern, crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.
We stayed tangled up, catching our breath, sweat cooling on our skin. Finally, she laughed softly, her voice still shaky.
“Well,” she said, adjusting her blouse, “that’s one way to teach you.”
I grinned, buttoning my shirt. “Best lesson I’ve had so far.”
Before leaving, she fixed my tie, her fingers brushing my chest. Her eyes met mine, playful again. “This stays between us.”
“Of course,” I said, though the thrill in my chest told me this wouldn’t be the last time.
When she walked out first, hips swaying, I knew I’d never look at mentorship the same way again.
