Crossing The line

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon. The sun was shining through the blinds, making lines on the dusty floor of the big house. I was doing my chores, focused on cleaning, when the doorbell rang. I sighed and wiped my forehead. Who could it be at this time? It was only three o'clock, and Mr. Hathaway didn’t have any meetings.

I walked down the hallway in my cleaning shoes, feeling nervous. I looked through the peephole and saw my boss, Mr. Hathaway. His gaze made me feel a thrill. There had been some tension between us for months, but we had never talked about it.

I took a breath and opened the door. "Mr. Hathaway," I said, trying to sound calm.

He looked at me, his eyes hungry, making me aware of my maid uniform. "Emma," he replied, his voice deep. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

I stepped aside for him to enter. "Mr. Hathaway," I whispered. "Do you need something?"

He walked in, his eyes on me. "Emma," he said, his voice lower, "I’m here to check your work."

I felt my cheeks heat up as he got closer, his scent strong and alluring. "Everything's clean," I said, my voice shaky. "I just finished upstairs."

He looked me over, his gaze lingering. "I'll decide that," he said with a smirk, walking past me.

I followed him upstairs, my heart racing. The tension between us was strong. We reached the master bedroom, which I had just cleaned. He looked around carefully. "Very good, Emma," he said, but his tone hinted at something else.

He turned to face me, stepping closer. "But I’m not just here to check the place," he said softly, brushing my cheek with his fingers. "I’ve noticed how... eager you are."

My heart raced. I knew what he meant, but I didn’t want to believe it. "Mr. Hathaway, I’m just doing my job," I said, my voice trembling.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm. "Is that what you call it when you wear that skirt?" he asked, his hand sliding down my back. "Or when you bend over, letting me see?"

I struggled to find words to protest, but my body was reacting to him. "Please," I whispered. "We can’t."

He held me firmly, his gaze intense. "Can’t or won’t?" he asked. "I see it in your eyes, Emma. You want this."

I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. "Mr. Hathaway, please," I begged, feeling confused by my own feelings.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot. "Call me Alex," he said softly. "We’re not at work anymore."

Hearing his name sent a rush through me. Alex. It reminded me of the attraction I had been fighting. His hand moved up my thigh, and I couldn’t help but respond. I moaned softly.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

I couldn’t deny it. His touch sent waves of pleasure through me. "Yes," I breathed.

Alex smiled, his eyes hungry. "I knew it," he said, pressing harder. "You want me."

I squirmed, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. This was wrong, but my body was responding. "Alex," I said, "we can’t do this here. What if someone comes?"

He laughed softly. "Then they’ll see us. But I doubt that will happen, will it?"

I tried to protest again. "Alex, please..."

He leaned in, his breath warm on my neck. "You can’t resist me, can you?"

"Alex, I’m just a maid," I whispered, feeling weak. "You have a life, a girlfriend."

He leaned in closer, his hand pressing firmly. "I know what you are," he said softly. "And I know what you do for me."

With a sudden burst of strength, I pushed him away, my back against the wall. I stared at him, shocked. "Alex," I said, "we can’t do this."

Alex stepped closer, his gaze locked on mine. "Why not?" he asked, teasingly. "Are you still untouched?"

His question made me panic, but I didn’t answer. I tried to escape his grip, but he held me tighter. "Emma," he said, "you’re playing games." He tangled his fingers in my hair, tilting my head back.

I tried to push him away again. "Alex, please," I begged.

He stepped closer, his warmth surrounding me. "Why do you resist?" he murmured. "You want this as much as I do."

Before I could reply, he grabbed my wrist, spinning me around and pinning me against the wall. I felt the wall press into my back, but my heart raced. He leaned in, his breath warm. "You’re driving me crazy, Emma," he whispered.

I kept trying to push him away, but he was too strong. He held my face, his thumb tracing my lip. "Tell me," he said, "are you still untouched?"

His question made me panic, but I didn’t respond. I tried to twist away, but he only got closer, trapping me. Before I could protest again, his hand moved to my waist, pulling me against him. I could feel him pressing into me, and my breath caught.

"You don’t have to tell me," he said, his lips near mine. "But I’d like to find out for myself."