Page 181 of The Rules
Each step he takes is deliberate—quiet, measured—until he stops just a breath away.
Too close.
She stiffens, the tension subtle but unmistakable. Not fear.
Anticipation.
Benjamin watches the subtle tension spread across her shoulders, the way her fingers pause mid-motion on the file.
He feels the heat radiating from her body, mere inches from his own. His pulse quickens, but his expression remains impassive.
"Bolder than usual, Winters." His voice is low, dark—a warning wrapped in velvet.
Kath glances over her shoulder. Smirking. Unrepentant. Beautiful. Dangerous.
"What? No public humiliation?" she asks, mock-innocent, but her eyes betray her. They always do.
Benjamin exhales. Sharp. Quiet.
She thinks this is still banter. Still flirtation. Stillsafe. It isn't.
He leans in—voice a rasp against her spine.
"You think I don't know what you're doing?"
His eyes rake over her.
Not casual.
Calculating. Claiming.
"Rule number three and nine, Winters. You're not supposed to look at me like you still want me, and you can't call me Ben in front of others."
Hersmirk doesn't fade.
"And yet… here we are," Kath replies, cool and soft, but there's something beneath her words—a current of electricity that makes his skin burn. She turned to face him.
Benjamin's gaze drops, taking in every inch of her.
Her blouse—fitted just enough to hint at what's beneath.
Her skirt—professional, but the way it clings to her curves is anything but. Her mouth—slightly parted, the ghost of that infuriating smirk still playing at the corners.
Everything she knows he notices. Everything shewantshim to. The realization makes something dark curl in him.
"I've been generous," he says, voice lower now, dangerous, sexy. "Haven't even counted how many times I should've punished you for it."
He steps closer, eliminating what little space remained between them. His hand drags down her hip—slow, deliberate, measured. A touch that leaves fire in its wake. Benjamin feels her body tense under his fingers, but she doesn't step away. Doesn't even try.
She remains frozen in place, caught in the gravity of his presence. Not a retreat, not a surrender—a deliberate choice that makes Benjamin's pulse quicken beneath his skin.
His mouth is near her ear now, close enough that his breath stirs the loose strands of hair at her temple. He can smell her perfume—that vanilla that's been haunting him for weeks.
"So tell me, Winters," he murmurs, a smirk forming as he speaks, voice like a razor, "are you at least following yourotherpunishment?"
Kath's breath stutters. Just for a second—a tiny, revealing hitch that betrays her composure.
"Which one?" she asks, voice soft, hesitant.
