Business and Pleasure
The world didn’t stop just because they finally admitted what they felt for each other. If anything, their schedules seemed to get even busier. Being CEOs of rival companies meant there was barely time to breathe, let alone bask in the fact that they were officially together now.
Still, that didn’t stop Aiah from stealing glances at Mikha across the boardroom.
“This partnership will require both of our companies to work closely together over the next six months,” one of the executives announced. “We expect seamless collaboration between both teams.”
Aiah smirked, crossing her arms. Seamless, huh? If only they knew how close she and Mikha really were.
Mikha, on the other hand, looked unbothered, nodding as she flipped through the documents. “Understood,” she said coolly. “We’ll allocate our best teams for this.”
Beside her, Denise raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It was clear she had picked up on the shift between them.
Aiah, never one to back down from teasing, leaned back in her chair. “Well, I suppose I should schedule a few private meetings with Mikha to make sure everything is… seamless.”
Mikha shot her a sharp look, and Aiah had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. So easy to fluster.
The meeting wrapped up soon after, and as everyone filed out, Mikha grabbed Aiah’s wrist, pulling her back. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
Aiah grinned. “Can you blame me? My girlfriend is ridiculously hot when she’s in CEO mode.”
Mikha rolled her eyes, but there was a slight blush creeping up her neck. “This is work, Aiah. We need to keep things professional.”
Aiah hummed. “Right, right. But what if I want to schedule a meeting? Just us. No business talk.”
Mikha narrowed her eyes. “Are you flirting with me in my own office?”
Aiah shrugged. “It’s your fault for being so distracting.”
Mikha sighed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it.”
Mikha bit back a smile before releasing her hold on Aiah’s wrist. “Fine. Dinner later. But don’t expect me to go easy on you during this project.”
Aiah leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh, Mikha, I’d be disappointed if you did.”
The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable, and Mikha knew—whether in business or love—Aiah was going to keep her on her toes.
—
Later that evening, Aiah strolled into the private dining area of an upscale restaurant, her eyes immediately finding Mikha.
She was already seated, flipping through her phone, looking as effortlessly elegant as ever. Aiah took a second to appreciate the view before making her way to the table.
Mikha glanced up as Aiah slid into the seat across from her. “You’re late,” she said, setting her phone down.
Aiah smirked. “Two minutes.”
Mikha raised a brow. “That’s still late.”
Aiah leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re cute when you’re strict.”
Mikha sighed, shaking her head, but Aiah didn’t miss the slight twitch of her lips. “We’re supposed to be discussing the project.”
Aiah hummed. “Sure, sure. But I think we should establish some terms and conditions first.”
Mikha crossed her arms. “Such as?”
Aiah tilted her head. “Well, we’re working together now, but we’re also together together. There should be rules to keep things professional.”
Mikha exhaled, nodding. “Agreed. No mixing business and personal matters during meetings.”
Aiah made a face. “Boring, but fine. What else?”
Mikha tapped her fingers on the table. “No distractions during work hours.”
Aiah smirked. “Define distractions.”
Mikha shot her a look. “You know exactly what I mean.”
Aiah laughed. “Fine, fine. Anything else?”
Mikha hesitated, then looked at her seriously. “We keep this between us. At least for now.”
Aiah blinked. “You don’t want people to know?”
“It’s not that,” Mikha said, a little softer now. “I just… I don’t want it to affect our companies.”
Aiah studied her for a moment before nodding. “Alright. We keep it quiet. But…”
She leaned in, her voice dropping into something dangerously playful. “That doesn’t mean I won’t make it very obvious when we’re alone.”
Mikha rolled her eyes. “I expected nothing less.”
The waiter arrived, breaking the moment, and they ordered their food.
As soon as the waiter left, Aiah smirked again. “By the way, I forgot to add a rule.”
Mikha sighed. “What now?”
Aiah reached across the table, brushing her fingers lightly against Mikha’s. “You’re not allowed to look this good when we’re supposed to be working.”
Mikha opened her mouth, probably to scold her, but Aiah saw the faintest blush on her ears.
Victory.
Mikha quickly retracted her hand, clearing her throat. “Focus, Aiah.”
Aiah grinned, leaning back in her chair. “I am focused. Just… not on the project.”
Mikha shot her a warning look, but Aiah caught the way she bit her lip—trying so hard not to smile.
The food arrived, and for a moment, the conversation settled into comfortable silence. It was… strange, in a good way. Aiah was used to their meetings being tense, filled with subtle jabs and competitive energy. But now? Now, there was an ease between them, a warmth that hadn’t been there before.
Mikha broke the silence first. “So, about this project…”
Aiah sighed dramatically. “Fine. Business talk.”
Mikha ignored her teasing. “The investors are expecting a presentation by next week. We need to divide the work.”
Aiah nodded, finally switching into CEO mode. “I’ll handle the creative strategy. You handle logistics?”
Mikha tapped her fingers against her glass. “Sounds fair. But we should run everything by each other before finalizing.”
Aiah smirked. “Are you saying you trust me?”
Mikha gave her a dry look. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Aiah laughed. “You’re cute when you pretend not to like me.”
Mikha shook her head, sipping her wine. “I do like you. That’s the problem.”
Aiah raised a brow, intrigued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”
Mikha set her glass down and met Aiah’s gaze. “If we’re doing this—really doing this—I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want us to turn into another power couple that crashes and burns because we couldn’t separate business from personal.”
Aiah softened. “You think we’ll crash and burn?”
Mikha hesitated. “I think… I don’t want to lose you in the process.”
Aiah’s heart did a little flip. For all of Mikha’s composure, there was something vulnerable in the way she said it.
Aiah reached across the table again, this time intertwining their fingers. “Then we won’t.”
Mikha exhaled, squeezing her hand once before letting go. “Okay.”
Aiah grinned. “Look at us. Actually communicating like adults.”
Mikha rolled her eyes but smiled. “Don’t get used to it.”
Aiah smirked. “Too late.”
Aiah smirked as she swirled her wine glass. “So, how do you plan to keep things professional when your girlfriend is this irresistible?”
Mikha gave her a pointed look. “By reminding myself that my girlfriend is also my rival in business.”
Aiah placed a hand on her chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. So I’m still your rival?”
Mikha sighed. “Aiah, you’re a competitive, stubborn CEO. I’m a competitive, stubborn CEO. Nothing’s changed.”
Aiah tilted her head. “Something has changed.”
Mikha held her gaze for a moment before looking away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Fine. Something has changed. But we have to be careful.”
Aiah leaned in, resting her chin on her hand. “Careful how?”
Mikha exhaled. “We can’t let this relationship affect our decisions. No favoritism, no compromises that hurt the company, no—”
Aiah cut her off with a teasing smile. “No kissing in the boardroom?”
Mikha glared. “Especially no kissing in the boardroom.”
Aiah laughed, but there was a glint in her eyes that said she was absolutely going to test that rule.
Before Mikha could say anything else, their phones buzzed almost at the same time. Aiah glanced at her screen—messages from their teams about an upcoming investor meeting.
Mikha groaned. “Right. Back to reality.”
Aiah stretched, standing up. “Then let’s go. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can…” She trailed off, smirking.
Mikha narrowed her eyes. “Can what?”
Aiah winked. “You’ll find out later.”
Mikha rolled her eyes but followed her out of the restaurant. “You’re so lucky I like you.”
Aiah chuckled. “I know.”
—
The drive back from the restaurant was quiet, save for the occasional tapping of rain against the windshield. The earlier business dinner had gone well, but now, the heavy downpour blurred the city lights, making the roads slick and dangerous.
Aiah tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her eyes darting to Mikha, who sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, watching the rain.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Mikha asked, glancing at the speedometer.
Aiah scoffed. “What, you don’t trust my driving?”
“I do,” Mikha said, but then immediately added, “I just don’t trust the rain. And you’re already squinting.”
Aiah groaned. “I’m not squinting.”
Mikha shot her a knowing look.
The rain only worsened, hammering against the car, and visibility dropped fast. Aiah cursed under her breath as they neared an intersection, the streetlights barely visible through the thick sheets of water.
“This is ridiculous,” Mikha muttered. “Just stay at my place tonight.”
Aiah blinked. “What?”
Mikha sighed, as if she couldn’t believe she had to spell it out. “You’re not driving through this storm. My place is closer. You stay over, end of discussion.”
Aiah smirked despite the situation. “Mikha Lim, inviting me over? Be still, my heart.”
Mikha rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
Aiah chuckled but didn’t argue. She took the next turn, heading toward Mikha’s penthouse.
Maybe the rain wasn’t so bad after all.
By the time they arrived at Mikha’s penthouse, the storm had turned relentless. Rain poured down in thick sheets, wind howling against the tall glass windows of the high-rise. Aiah barely had time to admire the sleek interior before Mikha tossed her a towel.
“You’re drenched,” Mikha muttered, tugging off her own coat and tossing it onto the couch.
Aiah smirked, catching the towel. “So are you. You gonna dry me off, babe?”
Mikha shot her a glare but didn’t respond, walking toward her bedroom. “There’s a spare shirt in my closet. You know where to find it.”
Aiah grinned. She did, in fact, know exactly where Mikha kept her clothes—and which ones smelled the most like her.
She followed, grabbing a white button-down from Mikha’s closet, slipping out of her damp blouse. As she buttoned it up, she felt a pair of eyes on her.
Mikha stood by the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with an unreadable expression.
Aiah raised an eyebrow. “Like what you see?”
Mikha scoffed. “You’re stealing my clothes again.”
Aiah smirked, walking up to her. “You like it when I do.”
Mikha rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she reached out, fingers brushing against the damp ends of Aiah’s hair.
“You’ll catch a cold,” Mikha murmured, softer now.
Aiah’s breath hitched at the unexpected tenderness. “Guess you’ll have to take care of me, then.”
Mikha exhaled, shaking her head with a small, helpless smile. “I already do.”
—
Mikha shifted beside Aiah, clearing her throat as she adjusted her position on the couch. The rain continued to pour outside, the occasional rumble of thunder filling the silence between them.
Aiah glanced at her, eyebrow raised. "What’s up with you?"
"Nothing," Mikha mumbled, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch—but not too close to Aiah.
Aiah smirked, instantly catching on. “Are you…” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “Are you trying to get me to cuddle you?”
Mikha scoffed. "Of course not."
Aiah grinned. "Then why are you practically offering your shoulder?"
Mikha crossed her arms. “I’m just getting comfortable.”
Aiah bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. "Oh, sure. Comfortable." She inched closer, deliberately letting her thigh press against Mikha’s. "You know, if you wanted cuddles, all you had to do was ask."
Mikha shot her a glare but the slight pink dusting her ears gave her away. "I don’t need to ask."
Aiah hummed, pretending to think. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I stay right here—” She shifted away slightly, putting intentional distance between them.
Mikha tensed immediately. A beat of silence passed. Then—
A quiet sigh.
Aiah smirked, waiting.
And then, so softly it was almost drowned by the rain—
“…Come back.”
Aiah turned to Mikha, eyes wide in amusement. “What was that?”
Mikha huffed, turning away. “You heard me.”
Aiah laughed, wasting no time before scooting back and wrapping her arms around Mikha’s waist, pulling her close. "See? Was that so hard?"
Mikha grumbled something under her breath but melted into the embrace almost instantly, her head resting against Aiah’s shoulder.
Aiah ran her fingers through Mikha’s hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "You’re so bad at asking for affection, you know that?"
Mikha buried her face in Aiah’s neck, voice muffled. "Shut up."
Aiah only laughed, holding her tighter. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to ask. I’ll always know.”
Mikha didn’t respond, but the way her arms curled tighter around Aiah’s waist said more than words ever could.
The sound of rain against the windows filled the room, steady and soothing. Mikha was warm against Aiah, her steady breaths fanning against Aiah’s collarbone. It was rare—Mikha letting herself be this soft, this vulnerable. Aiah didn’t take it for granted.
She traced lazy patterns along Mikha’s back, enjoying the peaceful silence between them. “Comfortable now?” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mikha hummed in response, shifting slightly to bury her face deeper into Aiah’s neck. “Mmm. Could be better, though.”
Aiah chuckled. “Oh? What else do you need, Your Highness?”
Mikha smirked against her skin. “Less talking. More cuddling.”
Aiah laughed but tightened her hold, letting their bodies mold perfectly together. She had always known Mikha was stubborn, but she was learning now—Mikha wasn’t just stubborn with her words. She was stubborn in the way she loved too.
Mikha sighed, pressing a lazy kiss against Aiah’s shoulder. "You’re too smug right now, I can feel it."
Aiah grinned. “I mean… can you blame me? You were literally begging me to hold you a few minutes ago.”
Mikha groaned, nudging Aiah’s side. “I was not begging.”
Aiah tilted her head, pretending to think. “Mmm. No, I’m pretty sure you were.”
Mikha lifted her head just enough to glare at her. “Do you want me to kick you out of my house?”
Aiah smirked. “No, but I do want you to kiss me.”
Mikha blinked. “What?”
Aiah wiggled her eyebrows. “You heard me.”
Mikha rolled her eyes, but the way her gaze softened gave her away. She leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against Aiah’s lips. Slow, warm, filled with something unspoken.
When she pulled away, Aiah smiled. "Now that—" she tapped Mikha’s nose "—was begging."
Mikha groaned again, but this time, she didn’t pull away.
Mikha huffed, nuzzling back into Aiah’s neck as if that would hide her embarrassment. "You’re impossible," she muttered.
Aiah grinned, rubbing slow circles on Mikha’s back. "And yet, here you are, cuddling me like I’m your favorite pillow."
Mikha didn’t even try to argue this time. Instead, she shifted slightly, making herself more comfortable in Aiah’s arms. The rain outside had softened into a gentle drizzle, the dim glow from the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the room. It was peaceful—dangerously so.
"I’m not used to this," Mikha admitted quietly.
Aiah’s hand paused mid-stroke before continuing. "Used to what?"
"This. Us." Mikha sighed. "Being… like this."
Aiah softened, her fingers tracing soothing patterns along Mikha’s spine. "Well, you better start getting used to it," she murmured. "Because I’m not going anywhere."
Mikha closed her eyes, letting herself sink into Aiah’s warmth. "Promise?"
Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with unspoken understanding, with the quiet certainty that this—they—were real.
Then, after a moment, Mikha shifted again, looking up at Aiah with that same teasing smirk. "You still talk too much."
Aiah chuckled. "And yet, you still like me."
Mikha rolled her eyes but leaned in again, kissing Aiah slowly—like she was sealing her own confession. "Unfortunately, I do."
Aiah laughed against her lips. "Say it again."
Mikha groaned, but there was no escaping this now. "I like you, Aiah. There. Happy?"
Aiah grinned. "Ecstatic."
Mikha just sighed, shaking her head. "You really are impossible."
—
Aiah finally stretched, reluctantly pulling away from the warmth of their embrace. "Alright, alright. As much as I love being your personal pillow, I need a snack."
Mikha groaned, refusing to move. "You’re too comfortable."
Aiah laughed, prying Mikha’s arms off her. "You’re just clingy." She stood up, smoothing out her shirt. "Stay there, I’ll make us something."
She made her way to the kitchen, rubbing her arms at the sudden loss of warmth. The house was quiet except for the soft pattering of rain outside. She moved on instinct, grabbing a few things from the fridge, heating up some soup, and toasting some bread.
Just as she was about to grab plates, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind.
Mikha.
Aiah froze for a second, the warmth of Mikha’s embrace melting into her skin. "Miss me already?" she teased, though her voice came out softer than she intended.
Mikha hummed, her chin resting on Aiah’s shoulder. "You left me in couch alone," she murmured, her voice slightly raspy. "That’s cruel."
Aiah smirked, but her breath hitched when Mikha tightened her grip, pressing herself against her back. "Didn’t take you for the clingy type," Aiah mused, tilting her head slightly so their cheeks brushed.
Mikha chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Aiah’s spine. "I’m not. Just with you."
Aiah swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the way Mikha’s fingers were resting on her hips, thumbs lazily rubbing circles over the fabric of her shirt.
The teasing warmth of Mikha’s breath against her neck wasn’t helping either.
"You’re distracting me," Aiah murmured, trying to focus on the food in front of her.
"Am I?" Mikha murmured, deliberately pressing closer. "I’m just standing here."
"Liar."
Mikha chuckled, her lips barely brushing against the sensitive spot just below Aiah’s ear. "Fine. Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?"
Aiah exhaled sharply, gripping the kitchen counter. "You really want to test me right now?"
Mikha smirked against her skin. "Maybe."
Aiah turned slightly, her eyes meeting Mikha’s—dark, teasing, challenging. For a moment, neither of them moved, tension crackling in the small space between them.
Then Aiah smirked. "Be careful what you wish for."
Aiah turned in Mikha’s arms, her smirk never fading. "You keep pushing, baby," she murmured, trailing a finger down Mikha’s chest. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
Mikha arched a brow, her grip on Aiah’s waist tightening. "Try me."
That was all the invitation Aiah needed.
With one swift move, she gripped Mikha’s shirt and pulled her in, crashing their lips together.
Mikha barely had time to react before Aiah deepened the kiss, her hands tangling in Mikha’s hair, tugging just enough to elicit a low groan.
Mikha didn’t give Aiah a chance to tease her again. In one swift motion, she gripped Aiah’s thighs and lifted her off the counter, earning a surprised gasp from the woman in her arms.
"Shit, Mikha—" Aiah barely had time to react before Mikha was carrying her down the hall, her grip strong, her pace unwavering.
Mikha smirked against her ear. "What? Think I can’t handle you?"
Aiah let out a breathless laugh, her arms winding around Mikha’s shoulders. "Oh, I know you can handle me, baby. I’m just surprised you’re finally taking charge."
Mikha nipped at her jaw, her voice husky. "I always could take charge. You just love pushing me until I do."
Aiah shivered at the way Mikha’s voice dipped lower, her teasing suddenly turning into something much darker—something she knew would completely unravel her.
Before she could throw another quip, Mikha kicked the bedroom door open and pressed Aiah against it, pinning her there, her breath hot against her skin.
"Tell me," Mikha whispered, hands slowly sliding down Aiah’s sides, gripping her thighs as she tightened her hold. "You want me to stop?"
Aiah’s nails dug into Mikha’s shoulders, her breath hitching. "You know I don’t."
Mikha smirked before capturing Aiah’s lips in a searing kiss, full of raw hunger, full of unspoken promises. As Aiah melted into her, Mikha carried her toward the bed, their bodies tangled, the heat between them undeniable.
And neither of them planned on stopping anytime soon.
Mikha lowered Aiah onto the bed, her body hovering just above her, teasing but never breaking contact. Their breaths mingled, heavy with anticipation, and Aiah could feel the way Mikha’s hands roamed over her sides, slow and deliberate.
"You’re taking your time," Aiah murmured, her lips curving into a smirk.
Mikha traced a line down Aiah’s exposed collarbone with her lips, her voice low and dangerous. "You always rush things. Maybe I just like watching you want."
Aiah let out a soft laugh, but it quickly turned into a sharp inhale when Mikha’s fingers brushed under the hem of her dress, ghosting over her skin, barely there but enough to send a shiver through her.
"Damn," Aiah whispered, her head tilting back as Mikha pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. "Where has this Mikha been hiding?"
Mikha chuckled, her breath hot against Aiah’s skin. "You just never let me show you before."
Aiah exhaled shakily, her fingers curling into Mikha’s shirt, tugging it up. "Then stop teasing and show me."
Mikha didn’t need to be told twice. She shed her shirt in one swift motion, then leaned back down, pressing Aiah deeper into the mattress, their bodies fitting together perfectly.
Aiah reached up, fingers threading through Mikha’s hair, pulling her into another searing kiss—one that left them both breathless, wanting more, needing everything.
Mikha smirked against her lips. "Careful, Rivera. I might just ruin you tonight."
Aiah’s eyes darkened, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Then what the hell are you waiting for?"
Mikha didn’t wait anymore.
Mikha’s control snapped the second Aiah taunted her. With a growl, she captured
Aiah’s lips again, this time rougher, deeper, her hands pushing the straps of Aiah’s dress down her shoulders.
The silk pooled at her waist, exposing smooth skin that Mikha’s fingers traced with maddening slowness.
Aiah let out a frustrated sigh, arching into her touch. "Mikha."
Mikha smirked, her lips hovering just above Aiah’s. "What, baby? I thought you liked it when I took my time?"
Aiah’s nails dug into Mikha’s back, her breath coming out ragged. "You’re so damn smug."
Mikha chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of Aiah’s mouth. "And you love it."
Aiah was about to retort, but her words died in her throat when Mikha’s hands moved lower, gripping her thighs, pulling her closer. The friction between them made her head spin, her breathing uneven as Mikha started trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, lower—
"Fuck," Aiah hissed, her body shuddering.
Mikha looked up at her through lidded eyes, a dark glint in them. "That’s what I want to hear."
Aiah bit her lip, trying to keep herself together, but Mikha was relentless—her touch, her mouth, her heat. Every movement was deliberate, every touch igniting something deeper, something she never expected to need this much.
"Mikha—" Her voice broke as Mikha’s hands slid further, gripping her hips, guiding her into a rhythm that sent shockwaves through her body.
Mikha leaned in close, her breath warm against Aiah’s ear. "I told you, Rivera," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "I’m going to ruin you tonight."
Mikha smirked against Aiah’s lips, her grip tightening as she effortlessly lifted Aiah off the counter. A surprised gasp escaped Aiah, but Mikha swallowed it with another deep, possessive kiss.
"You talk too much," Mikha murmured against her mouth, carrying her toward the bedroom with ease.
Aiah clung to her, fingers tangling into Mikha’s hair. "And you like it," she teased breathlessly.
Mikha chuckled darkly, kicking the bedroom door open before pressing Aiah against it. "I like it when you’re like this," she admitted, voice husky. Her hands slid down Aiah’s sides, tracing every curve like she was committing them to memory.
Aiah felt her pulse quicken, her breath hitching when Mikha dipped her head to trail slow, heated kisses along her jaw. "Mikha..."
"Hmm?" Mikha murmured, her lips finding the sensitive spot on Aiah’s neck, drawing out a shaky sigh.
Aiah felt her knees weaken, her hold tightening around Mikha’s shoulders. "You’re driving me crazy."
Mikha grinned against her skin. "Good."
She walked them to the bed, lowering Aiah onto the mattress with a deliberate slowness, her body pressing against hers. Their gazes locked, something unspoken but intense passing between them.
Aiah reached up, brushing her fingers against Mikha’s cheek. "You’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be."
Mikha exhaled sharply, leaning into her touch. "Not when it’s you."
Aiah felt her heart stutter at those words. She pulled Mikha down, lips meeting hers in another slow, intoxicating kiss. This time, there was no rush—just raw emotion, unspoken confessions melting into every touch, every sigh.
The night stretched on, filled with whispers, teasing laughter, and a closeness neither of them wanted to break.