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The dream Hank stood tall and powerful, dominating the setting with an aura I had never experienced in waking life. His eyes now bore into me with a kind of intensity that left me breathless. A sensation of fear and excitement fluttered within me, an intoxicating blend that gave birth to an unexpected arousal.
His voice was different, too. Each word was a command, wrapped in a tone that was somehow both stern and suggestively arousing. He'd tell me to move, to shift positions, and my dream self would obey without a moment's hesitation.
He let me explore him, allowing my hands to wander over the contours of his body. Each touch, each trace of my fingers against his skin, elicited responses that set my senses on fire. His strong arms, the firmness of his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my touch - everything about him stoked the growing flame within me.
But just as our encounter was reaching a point of no return, I woke up abruptly. The harsh light of reality stung my senses, and I was left with the bitter truth that it was all a fantasy.
With a single glance at the bright red numbers on my alarm clock, my heart sank. I was late, incredibly late. I hurried through my morning routine, my thoughts racing as fast as my actions. But no matter how much I tried to concentrate on the tasks at hand, my mind kept wandering back to the vivid remnants of the dream that had starred a naked Hank.
As I rushed out of my apartment, my coffee hastily poured into a to-go mug and breakfast forgone entirely, I couldn't stop the blush that creeped up my cheeks. No sooner had I made it into the Apex Creations office, I was summoned by Jess, our boss. She beckoned me into her private office. In the room, I found Hank already seated, his stern features softened by surprise at my late arrival.
"Good, you're here," Jess began, her voice firm and business-like. "We've just landed a new client - they're launching an eco-friendly electric car and want us to handle the advertisement."
I felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of the new project, but my attention was divided. I could feel Hank's gaze on me, and it made me self-conscious, the memories of my dream making me wonder if he could somehow sense the change in me.
Jess continued. "This client is very important to us, and I want our best on it. That's you two."
Hank seemed taken aback. "With all due respect, Lina and I... we've had our fair share of disagreements. Are you sure this is the best idea?" he asked.
Jess merely chuckled at his concerns. "I've seen the two of you in action," she countered. "Lately, you've been arguing less. I'm confident in this decision."
I couldn't help but wonder if the man I'd once viewed as arrogant and a bit mean was someone I could actually get along with. Maybe even someone I could... care for? For a brief moment, I allowed myself to entertain the possibility. It was a dangerous thought, especially considering Hank's apparent aversion to me. I couldn't help but remember our past disagreements, his harsh words still ringing in my ears. But then there was also his gentler side, the one he'd shown me in fleeting moments when he thought no one was looking.
Could it be that he was afraid? It wasn't a crazy notion. After all, age play relationships could be complicated, even painful if things went wrong. Maybe Hank had been hurt before and was now avoiding anything that could lead him back to that place.
Jess cleared her throat, pulling my attention back to the matter at hand. "This project is on a tight deadline. You two will have to pull a few late nights, I'm afraid," she informed us.
A spark of apprehension lit up in Hank's eyes as he responded, "Jess, maybe it would be better if I worked with someone else. For both of our sakes."
It felt like a punch in the gut. Was he really trying to avoid me that desperately? But Jess wasn't having it. She leaned back in her chair, her serious gaze fixed on Hank. "Look, we don't have the luxury of losing such a big client right now. If we don't sign on this client, we may have to let go of one of the junior staff members. And I really don't want to do that."
A heavy silence filled the room. Hank’s gaze met mine, and I saw a resigned acceptance in his eyes. With a deep sigh, he nodded. "Alright, we'll make it work."
That evening, with the day winding down and the sounds of the bustling office fading to a quiet murmur, I gathered my courage and ventured into Hank's office. We were meant to start our work on the new project, and despite my offer to host him in my own office, Hank had insisted we meet in his. The twinge of annoyance at his high-handed decision was hard to ignore, but I swallowed it down as I stepped into his domain.
"Was it too much for your ego to step into my office?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
Hank looked up from his desk, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, please. This has nothing to do with ego," he replied. "You and I hold equal titles here. It's simply about environment preference."
I scoffed, taking in the stark contrast between our offices. While mine was a vibrant collection of color and personal mementos, his was a study in minimalism, all sleek lines and muted tones. "Let me guess, my office is too 'Lina-esque' for you?"
His chuckle echoed in the quiet room. "I wouldn't put it that way," he started, leaning back in his chair, his gaze fixing me with a cheeky grin. "But it does resemble an explosion in a party supplies store, doesn’t it?"
I gasped, offended. "Are you subtly criticizing my choice of decor?"
He snorted, shaking his head. "There's nothing subtle about it."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh, really? Pray tell, what's wrong with my office?"
Hank steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Where do I start? The neon pink desk lamp, the fluffy unicorn pen holder, or the giant rainbow-colored bean bag? It's a wonder you get anything done in that carnival."
Feeling the need to defend my space, I retorted, "Firstly, the pink lamp gives a calming ambiance. Secondly, the unicorn pen holder is adorable and makes me smile. And thirdly, the bean bag is incredibly comfortable for brainstorming sessions!"
His laughter echoed through his office. It was these moments, when he wasn't being overly professional or serious, that I found him hardest to resist.
"Oh, are we having a decor-off here?" Mike quipped with Joe by his side, sauntering into the room with a devilish grin.
"This isn't just about décor," Hank countered, "This is about working in an environment that inspires productivity, not preschool playdates."
