Meeting
The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. Aiah stirred, warmth surrounding her, a steady heartbeat under her ear. It took her a moment to register where she was—wrapped in Mikha’s arms, their bodies tangled under the sheets.
A sleepy hum vibrated against her hair. "Morning, Rivera," Mikha murmured, her voice husky from sleep.
Aiah smirked, not lifting her head. "Morning, Lim."
Mikha’s hold tightened slightly. "You’re heavy."
Aiah chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss to Mikha’s collarbone. "Then move me."
Mikha sighed dramatically but didn’t push her away. Instead, she ran her fingers through Aiah’s hair, her touch gentle. "We should get up. Work exists, remember?"
Aiah groaned. "I refuse."
Mikha rolled her eyes but didn’t move either. "You’re impossible."
Aiah finally lifted her head, meeting Mikha’s gaze. "And yet, you like me anyway."
Mikha smirked. "More than I should."
Their moment of quiet intimacy was interrupted by the buzz of Aiah’s phone on the nightstand. She sighed, reaching for it without breaking eye contact.
The caller ID read: Company Board Meeting – 10AM.
Mikha raised an eyebrow. "Guess we really have to go."
Aiah groaned but sat up, stretching. "Fine. But you’re driving."
Mikha smirked, propping herself up on one elbow. "Gosh, fine."
Aiah leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Mikha’s lips. "Then I’ll let you choose where we get coffee."
Mikha hummed. "Tempting."
They eventually got out of bed, slipping into their usual business mode—Aiah in a crisp white blouse and tailored slacks, Mikha in her signature all-black power suit.
But despite the professional exterior, there was something different now.
The lingering touches, the knowing smirks, the way Aiah casually stole Mikha’s coffee as they walked to the car.
As they drove to the office, Mikha glanced at Aiah, a smirk playing on her lips. "Think we can keep this relationship thing under wraps?"
Aiah, sipping Mikha’s coffee, raised an eyebrow. "You’re the one who kept staring at me in meetings before we even got together."
Mikha scoffed. "I did not."
Aiah laughed. "Denial, Lim. It’s okay, you can’t resist me."
Mikha rolled her eyes, but her smirk remained. "Just don’t distract me in the meeting."
Aiah leaned in slightly, voice teasing. "No promises."
Mikha exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "We are so doomed."
They arrived at the office, stepping into their CEO roles once again. But as they walked side by side, exchanging subtle glances and hidden smiles, one thing was clear—keeping this relationship a secret was going to be harder than they thought.
The moment they stepped into the building, the air shifted. Gone were the playful smirks and teasing touches—now, they were CEOs, exuding power and confidence as they strode through the glass doors. Em
ployees greeted them with polite nods, but Aiah caught the way some of them quickly averted their gazes, as if sensing something was different.
Mikha walked ahead slightly, focused as ever, but Aiah could still see the remnants of their morning in the way Mikha’s fingers lightly brushed the side of her blazer—like a secret only the two of them shared.
Aiah smirked, leaning closer as they waited for the elevator. "You do know that people are staring, right?"
Mikha didn’t even blink. "They always stare."
Aiah chuckled. "True, but now they have a reason to."
The elevator doors opened, and Mikha stepped inside without responding.
Aiah followed, standing next to her, hands tucked into her pockets.
The moment the doors slid shut, Mikha turned slightly, giving her a pointed look.
"We agreed to keep this professional," Mikha murmured, her voice low.
Aiah tilted her head, pretending to think. "Did we? I don’t remember that conversation."
Mikha exhaled through her nose, but the twitch of her lips betrayed her amusement.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the executive floor. Their assistant, was already waiting outside.
"Ms. Rivera, Ms. Lim," The assistant greeted. "The investors are waiting in the conference room."
Mikha nodded, immediately switching into work mode. "We’ll be there in five."
Mara left, and Aiah turned to Mikha, her smirk returning. "Five minutes, huh? What should we do with all that time?"
Mikha shot her a look. "Walk to the conference room like normal people."
Aiah laughed but followed her anyway, their shoulders brushing as they made their way down the hall.
It was going to be a long day. Keeping their relationship under control in a professional setting was one thing. But with the way Aiah loved pushing Mikha’s buttons…
Well, let’s just say it was about to get a lot more interesting.
—
Mikha sat at the head of the conference table, her expression composed and professional as the investors discussed figures and projections.
She nodded at the right moments, her voice steady whenever she spoke, but Aiah could see it—the way her fingers curled just slightly against the table, the way her back stiffened, the way her breath hitched every now and then.
Because under the table, Aiah’s hand was inching up her thigh.
Mikha shot her a sharp glance, but Aiah simply smiled, her own posture relaxed as if she wasn’t currently making it nearly impossible for Mikha to focus.
She let her fingers graze the smooth fabric of Mikha’s skirt before giving the inside of her thigh the lightest squeeze.
Mikha inhaled sharply but covered it up with a fake cough. She reached for her glass of water, taking a sip like she wasn’t trying to keep herself composed.
“Ms. Lim, what do you think about the proposed adjustments?” one of the investors asked.
Mikha cleared her throat. “I—” She stopped for a fraction of a second when Aiah’s fingers traced slow, lazy circles against her skin.
“I think it’s a viable option, but we’ll need to—” Aiah’s fingers squeezed again. “—need to review the margins carefully.”
Aiah bit her lip to hide a grin. She loved watching Mikha try to hold it together.
Mikha, however, was not going to let this slide.
Under the table, she suddenly grabbed Aiah’s wrist, halting her movements.
Then, ever so slightly, she dragged Aiah’s hand higher.
Aiah’s breath hitched. Oh.
Mikha turned her head ever so slightly, not even looking at her directly, but her smirk was unmistakable.
"Careful, Rivera," she murmured under her breath, so softly that only Aiah could hear.
"You start something, you better be ready to finish it."
Aiah swallowed. Oh, she was so in trouble.
Mikha’s grip on Aiah’s wrist was iron-clad, her nails digging into her skin, but she didn’t push her hand away.
No—she was holding Aiah there, trapping her against the heat of her thigh.
Aiah’s smirk widened.
“Oh? You’re letting me?” she whispered, voice dripping with amusement, with hunger.
Mikha exhaled sharply through her nose, keeping her gaze locked on the presentation, pretending like she wasn’t completely losing it under the table.
Aiah’s fingers moved again—barely, just the slightest brush, but Mikha’s thigh twitched.
Bingo.
Aiah bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. “You’re shaking, baby.”
Mikha turned her head slightly, the look in her eyes absolutely deadly. “You think this is funny?”
Aiah grinned. “A little.”
Mikha’s jaw tensed, her breathing growing uneven. “You’re going to regret this.”
Aiah had zero regrets.
Not when Mikha’s thighs were pressing together, not when her nails were now digging harder into Aiah’s wrist as if to anchor herself, and definitely not when Mikha Lim— always composed, always in control—was barely holding back a whimper.
Aiah felt it—the way Mikha’s body reacted, the way her breath hitched.
And Aiah had the audacity to lean in closer, lips brushing the shell of Mikha’s ear, her voice a seductive whisper.
“Whimper for me, baby.”
Mikha’s entire body stiffened.
Aiah smirked, her fingers trailing just a little higher—
Mikha grabbed her wrist and yanked it away.
The force of it sent Aiah’s heart racing.
Mikha slowly turned to face her, eyes dark, her lips barely parting as she whispered in the most dangerous tone Aiah had ever heard—
“You. are. Dead.”
Aiah swallowed.
Aiah barely had a second to process before Mikha was leaning in, voice dripping with warning.
“You think you’re cute, huh?”
Aiah, despite the very real threat in Mikha’s tone, had the audacity to grin. “I think I’m hot.”
Mikha scoffed, her nails pressing into Aiah’s wrist one last time before she finally let go. “Enjoy this while you can, Rivera.”
Aiah tilted her head, amused. “Why? What are you gonna do about it?”
Mikha’s smirk was downright dangerous. “Oh, you’ll see.”
And with that, she turned back to the presentation, posture straight, eyes forward, completely unfazed.
Aiah, however, wasn’t fooled.
Mikha’s fingers were drumming against the table, her breathing just a little deeper than before, and when the meeting finally ended, Aiah knew she was in for it.
—
The moment they stepped into the private hallway, Mikha turned sharply, gripping Aiah by the collar and shoving her against the wall.
Aiah barely had time to react.
Mikha’s lips were millimeters away, her breath hot, her control slipping.
“You like playing games, huh?” Mikha murmured, her voice low, sultry, dangerous.
Aiah exhaled shakily, heart racing. “Depends. Are you gonna play with me?”
Mikha smirked, her knee nudging between Aiah’s legs, pressing just enough to make Aiah suck in a breath.
“I don’t play, Rivera.”
Aiah shivered.
Oh, she was so, so screwed.
—
The moment the car doors shut behind them, Mikha didn’t waste time.
Aiah barely had time to smirk before Mikha yanked her by the collar, pulling her in until their breaths tangled. “You think you can mess with me and get away with it?”
Mikha’s voice was low, dangerous—but laced with something darker, something intoxicating.
Aiah swallowed, but her grin didn’t falter. “I was just having a little fun.”
Mikha’s eyes glinted. “Oh? Let’s see how fun it is when you’re the one begging.”
Aiah barely had time to react before Mikha’s hands were on her, gripping her waist, pressing her against the cool leather of the seat.
The shift in control was electrifying.
Mikha’s lips ghosted over Aiah’s jaw, her breath hot, teasing—but never quite giving in.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” Mikha murmured, her fingers tightening on Aiah’s hips.
Aiah’s smirk wavered. “Good.”
Mikha chuckled darkly. “Not for you, babe.”
Before Aiah could process, Mikha’s lips crashed onto hers, all heat and frustration. She poured every ounce of her pent-up energy into the kiss, making Aiah gasp as their bodies pressed together. Aiah, usually the one in control, found herself melting under Mikha’s touch.
Mikha pulled back slightly, her thumb tracing Aiah’s swollen lips. “Not so smug now, are you?”
Aiah’s breath hitched. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Mikha smirked. “Oh, I plan to. But not before I make you remember exactly who you’re dealing with.”
—
Mikha didn’t let go of Aiah’s wrist as she pulled her out of the car, her grip firm, commanding. The night air was cool, but Aiah’s skin was burning.
“Mikha,” she teased, letting herself be led toward the house, “you seem a little desperate.”
Mikha scoffed, but the way she slammed the door behind them said otherwise. She pressed Aiah against it, pinning her with nothing but sheer presence. “You’re the one who spent the whole damn meeting teasing me,” she growled.
Aiah grinned. “And?”
Mikha’s response was immediate. Her hands slid down Aiah’s sides, rough and slow, before gripping her thighs and hoisting her up. Aiah barely had time to react before Mikha’s lips were back on hers, deeper, hotter—like she was determined to make Aiah feel exactly how much she had driven her insane.
Aiah gasped against her mouth, her fingers tangling in Mikha’s hair. “You’re really—”
Mikha bit her lip, effectively cutting her off. “Quiet.”
A shiver ran down Aiah’s spine.
Mikha carried her through the dimly lit hallway, their breaths heavy, tangled between stolen kisses and teasing bites. Aiah felt the smooth wood of the bedroom door against her back before Mikha kicked it open, not once breaking their heated kiss.
As they tumbled onto the bed, Mikha hovered above her, eyes dark with intent. “Now, Rivera,” she murmured, tracing her fingers along Aiah’s jaw, “let’s see how you handle being the one teased.”
Aiah smirked, though her breath was uneven. “Bring it on, Lim.”
Mikha didn’t waste a second.
She pinned Aiah down, her hands firm but teasing, trailing fire across Aiah’s skin. “You think you can just mess with me all day and get away with it?” Mikha whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction.
Aiah swallowed hard, her smirk faltering. “Maybe.”
Mikha’s fingers traced lower, her grip tightening just enough to make Aiah shudder. “Wrong answer.”
She leaned in, her lips barely grazing Aiah’s neck before she bit down—just enough to make her gasp. “Mikha—”
Mikha hummed, the sound vibrating against Aiah’s skin. “What’s wrong, Rivera?” she murmured, pressing another heated kiss against the newly marked spot. “You were so bold earlier.”
Aiah’s breath hitched as Mikha’s hands explored, her slow, torturous pace making her squirm. “Mikha, you—”
Mikha pulled back, her eyes dark, knowing. “What? Say it properly, baby.”
Aiah’s fingers dug into the sheets, her pride and desire clashing. But Mikha was relentless.
She leaned in again, hot breath against Aiah’s ear, whispering things that made Aiah whimper before she could stop herself.
Mikha smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
The rest of the night? Aiah wouldn’t forget it.
—
The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Aiah stretched, expecting the space beside her to be empty—but to her surprise, it wasn’t.
Mikha was still there.
Still asleep.
And Aiah? She was completely mesmerized.
Mikha’s hair was tousled from sleep, her lips slightly parted, her breathing slow and steady. It was rare—so rare—to see her this unguarded. No sharp comebacks, no CEO confidence. Just Mikha.
Aiah swallowed, her heart doing something dangerous in her chest.
She carefully propped herself on one elbow, unable to resist the urge to trace her fingers lightly along Mikha’s jawline. The touch was barely there, but Mikha stirred slightly, nuzzling into Aiah’s palm.
Aiah bit her lip. Oh, she’s so cute.
A soft murmur left Mikha’s lips, something incoherent, and then—
She grabbed Aiah’s wrist and pulled her down, wrapping herself around Aiah like a human koala.
Aiah froze.
Then, her heart exploded.
Mikha let out a sleepy sigh, burying her face into Aiah’s neck, her voice still drowsy. "Mmm... you’re so warm. Stay."
Aiah.exe has stopped working.
Her ears burned. Her chest felt tight. She wanted to scream into the pillow.
Instead, she laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Mikha’s head. "You’re clingy in the morning, huh?"
Mikha didn’t even deny it. "Mmm," she hummed, tightening her hold. "Only with you.
Aiah died on the spot.
Mikha was floating—not literally, but in the kind of sleepy bliss that made her want to stay wrapped up in Aiah forever.
The warmth against her chest, the steady rhythm of Aiah’s breathing, the way her fingers were absentmindedly tracing patterns on Mikha’s back—it was almost dangerous how much she loved this.
Then she felt it.
Aiah shaking with laughter.
Mikha frowned against Aiah’s skin, eyes still closed. “What’s so funny?”
Aiah hummed, amused. “Nothing. You’re just really soft when you’re like this.”
Mikha peeked one eye open, pretending to glare. “Soft?”
Aiah grinned. "Super soft. Like a clingy little kitten."
Mikha huffed, pulling back just enough to look at her properly. “I am not clingy.”
Aiah raised an eyebrow. "Mikha, you latched onto me like a koala in your sleep."
Heat crawled up Mikha’s neck. "That’s called being practical. You’re warm."
Aiah laughed again, reaching up to tuck a strand of Mikha’s hair behind her ear. "Right. Practical."
Mikha stared at her—really stared—and something fluttered painfully in her chest.
The way Aiah was looking at her.
Soft. Unhurried. Like she had all the time in the world to admire her.
Oh no.
It made Mikha’s heart stumble, made her throat feel tight.
This was dangerous.
Because for the first time, she realized—
She didn’t just want moments like this. She wanted all of them.
Aiah blinked. “Mik?”
Mikha, feeling suddenly shy, cleared her throat. “We should get up. We have work.”
Aiah smirked. “Avoiding something?”
Mikha flicked her forehead. “Shut up.”
Aiah chuckled but didn’t press. Instead, she pulled Mikha right back into her arms, whispering against her ear—
"Five more minutes."
And just like that, Mikha was completely undone.