Lucas’s POV

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. I was at home, laptop open, half-focused on emails I’d ignored all week. The office was supposed to be off-limits in my mind today until a notification popped up in the corner of my screen.

A file sent via AirDrop.

From… Sofia?

My brows drew together.

Sofia? My assistant?

It had to be a mistake. It was the weekend, and she never messaged me outside work hours unless it was something urgent. And even then, she was polite enough to send a formal email, not randomly drop a file on my device. I hesitated for a moment, curious, confused, mildly concerned.

Then I clicked on it.

A folder opened.

And I froze.

My breath stalled in my throat as the first image loaded.

It was her.

Sofia.

Naked.

And absolutely breathtaking.

I sat back, stunned, one hand still frozen over the mouse. My heart kicked hard against my ribs as image after image filled my screen. Her bare skin. The arch of her spine. The confident, raw way she looked at the camera.

These weren’t cheap or careless selfies. These were art. Intimate. Bold. Honest.

And they were driving me out of my mind.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, my body reacting before my brain caught up.

What the hell?

The more I scrolled through the photos, the worse or rather, the better it got. She was so effortlessly sexy. Not just because she was nude, but because of how she carried herself. Her poses weren’t slutty. They were powerful. Vulnerable and strong at the same time. I couldn’t stop looking.

Fuck.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, already feeling the tension building in my body.

This had to be a mistake, right? She didn’t mean to send these to me. There’s no way.

But still… my gaze roamed.

One image in particular made my breath hitch. She was curled up on a white sheet, her back to the camera, glancing over her shoulder with a soft expression somewhere between defiance and invitation. Her curves framed perfectly, the shadows playing over her skin like temptation sculpted in light.

Jesus Christ.

I leaned forward, rubbing a hand down my face, trying to get a grip.

Sofia has always been… attractive. Obviously. Anyone with eyes could see that. But she’s always been so professional. So buttoned-up. Always wearing those modest blouses and pencil skirts, her hair tied up in that annoying bun that made me want to pull it loose just to see what she looked like with her hair down.

Still, I never crossed that line. She was my assistant brilliant, efficient, way too good at what she does to risk making things weird.

But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about her.

A lot more than I should have.

And now… now I was seeing her like this?

I ran my hand down my chest, trying to ease the burning tension simmering low in my abdomen. I’d teased her before. Flirted a little, just to get a rise out of her. She always got flustered, eyes wide, cheeks pink. It was adorable. But I thought she was the type to keep her guard up forever. I took her seriousness as a sign to stay in my lane, keep things clean.

Apparently, I was wrong.

Or maybe I never really saw her.

This woman in the photos? This confident, sensual goddess? That’s not someone who hides. That’s someone who’s finally decided to show the world who the hell she really is.

And now that I’ve seen it… I don’t think I can ever unsee it.

Fuck. I could already feel the images burning themselves into my brain. The smooth slope of her hip. The fullness of her breasts. The subtle smirk on her lips.

I imagined what she’d sound like if I had her pinned to my bed, moaning my name. I imagined sliding my hands over the very curves I was staring at, tasting every inch of her skin, hearing her breath hitch the way mine had just done.

I slammed the laptop shut.

I needed a cold shower.

Or ten.

And yet… all I could think was how much I wanted her.

Not just her body.

Sofia.

The woman behind those eyes. The fire she clearly kept hidden. The boldness it took to do something like this.

Had she sent them to me on purpose?

I doubted it.

And if it was an accident… would she even know yet?

I stood up and paced the room, pulse racing, mind spinning.

What the hell am I going to say to her on Monday?

And more dangerously… what am I going to do if she wants me to say nothing at all?

I tried to distract myself pacing, pouring a glass of whiskey, even turning on the TV but none of it worked. Every time I blinked, I saw her again. That look in her eyes. The way her body curved. The soft glow of her skin.

I sat back down on the couch, the room dim except for the low flicker of light from the screen. My laptop remained shut, but I didn’t need to open it. I’d already memorized every image.

And God, I wanted her.

More than I had any right to.

My hand slid down my chest as I leaned back, breathing heavier than I should’ve been. I closed my eyes and let the fantasy take over just for a moment. Just long enough to imagine what it would be like if she were here. If she had sent those photos to me on purpose. If she walked into my apartment and stood in front of me just like that—bare, confident, and mine.

I pictured her straddling me, her breath warm on my neck, her fingers tangled in my shirt as she whispered my name. I imagined her soft moan against my ear, the heat of her skin, the feel of her thighs gripping my waist.

“Fuck…” I muttered under my breath, dragging my hand over my jaw, trying to will the images away but failing. Miserably.

She had no idea what she’d done to me.

Or maybe she did.

And that thought alone nearly pushed me over the edge.

By the time I stood and headed for the shower, my body was tight with tension, and my mind was still reeling with need.

This wasn’t just lust anymore.

This was going to become a problem.

A beautiful, dangerous problem.

And on Monday… I’d have to face her again pretend I hadn’t seen everything.

Pretend I didn’t want her with every damn breath I took.