The update schedule for this book is
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.
_
Jungkook blew a bubble with his chewing gum, his lips forming a playful pout as he watched the fragile pink balloon expand before it burst with a satisfying pop, echoing through the bland confines of his office cabin. It was just another mundane day in a space that Jungkook found unbearably dull.
His thoughts drifted to Taehyung, the one bright spot in his otherwise monotonous existence. Taehyung had injected a sense of excitement and passion into Jungkook's life, and the mere thought of their encounters sent a thrill coursing through his veins. Yet, it had been a week since their return to Korea, and Jungkook had yet to cross paths with Taehyung.
The possibility that Taehyung might be avoiding him gnawed at Jungkook's insides, a pang of hurt mingling with his frustration. He couldn't shake the feeling of longing that consumed him—the desperate desire to be near Taehyung once more.
As Jungkook reached for his phone, hoping for some distraction from his tumultuous thoughts, the shrill ringtone shattered the silence of the office. His father's name flashed across the screen, and Jungkook's heart sank. Another lecture and another round of scolding awaited him; he was sure of it.
"Jungkook, come to my cabin," his father's voice commanded before abruptly ending the call.
Entering his father's cabin, Jungkook found himself on the receiving end of unexpected praise.
His father spoke of Taehyung's commendations, highlighting how Taehyung had spoken highly of Jungkook's abilities at a recent party.
Jungkook's bunny teeth peeked out from behind his lips, a rare sight that illuminated his face with infectious joy. For the first time in his father's presence, he felt a sense of happiness—a glimmer of pride that shone brightly in his eyes. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one that he savoured as if it were a precious gem, and he couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events.
His father's praise was like a beacon of validation, a confirmation that perhaps he was worthy of more than just criticism. Jungkook had always harboured a deep desire to make his father proud, to prove himself capable and deserving of his acknowledgment. And now, as he basked in the glow of his father's approval, he felt a surge of gratitude towards Taehyung, whose influence had undoubtedly played a role in this newfound recognition.
"Thank you, Appa," Jungkook uttered, his voice tinged with genuine happiness and gratitude, his heart brimming with an unfamiliar warmth.
Returning to his own cabin, Jungkook's anticipation for lunchtime grew with each passing minute. He couldn't wait to seek out Taehyung and express his gratitude for the role he had played in making this day so special.
The two hours dragged on like an eternity for Jungkook, the wait stretching his patience to its limits. Finally, when the clock struck lunchtime, Jungkook wasted no time in making his way to Taehyung's office.
Parking his car outside the KM's office building, Jungkook's steps quickened with excitement as he entered the familiar surroundings of Taehyung's workplace. With determined strides, he made his way towards Taehyung's cabin, his heart racing, sweetly.
He stood outside Taehyung's cabin, excitement coursing through his veins. Today, gratitude swelled within him. His heart danced with glee, eager to express his appreciation to the man who had become his treasure of happiness.
Knuckles rapped gently against the wooden door, a rhythmic opening to the symphony of emotions within. Silence greeted him, causing a soft exhale to escape his lips, tinged with a hint of disappointment.
Undeterred, he grasped the doorknob, a silent plea for entry, his eagerness overriding any concerns about privacy.
The door opened, and Jungkook's smile vanished
as he saw the scene of Taehyung's absence.
Yet, undeterred, he stepped into the cabin, where the golden rays of afternoon sunlight painted the room in hues of warmth and possibility.
With measured steps, he traversed the space, his eyes scanning every corner in search of the inaccessible Taehyung. Where could he be? Jungkook pondered, his thoughts a whirlwind of impatience.
Then, a faint sound, barely audible yet distinct in its presence, emanated from the direction of the washroom.
Jungkook's heart skipped a beat, a radiant smile blooming as he approached the closed door, filled with eager excitement. His hand hovered for a moment, poised to knock. "It's the washroom, kook." Jungkook sighed at his stupidity and stepped back.
and he stood silently, fingers deftly knotting his tie as excitement coiled in his chest like a dormant serpent, awaiting the moment of revelation. Thoughts danced in his mind, each one a tantalising possibility of how to express his gratitude to Taehyung.
A cheek kiss, perhaps? The mere thought sent warmth rushing to Jungkook's cheeks, his heart fluttering like a startled bird in his chest.
Or maybe a kiss?
The idea ignited a fiery sensation within him, his lips, as he unconsciously wet them in preparation.
But as the rhythmic cadence of Taehyung's approaching steps filled the air, a sudden rush of uncertainty gripped Jungkook's heart like a vice.
Should he surprise Taehyung in different ways, or should he not doubt cloud his thoughts?
Panic seized Jungkook as he frantically scanned the room, his pulse thrumming in his ears like a relentless drumbeat. What should he do? His mind raced, each second ticking by with agonising slowness as Taehyung's approaching steps drew closer, his presence a palpable force in the air.
In a desperate bid for refuge, Jungkook's feet carried him to Taehyung's desk, his movements swift yet silent as he slid the CEO chair back with trembling hands.
With a quick, almost frantic motion, he positioned himself beneath the sturdy wooden surface, his heart hammering against his ribs like a caged bird seeking escape.
"What the fuck are you doing, you idiot Jeon?" Jungkook chided himself, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to regulate his breathing. His brow furrowed in consternation, and his mind was awash with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
Pressed against the cool expanse of the table, Jungkook found himself contorted into an uncomfortable position, his limbs protesting against the confined space. Yet, despite the discomfort, he remained hidden, his gaze fixed on the narrow gap between the floor and the edge of the table.
"Okay, it's not a good idea, I admit," Jungkook murmured, his voice a whisper in the suffocating silence of the cramped space. With a sigh, he reached for the chair legs, his fingers curling around the cool metal in a gesture of finality, ready to abandon his impulsive plan.
But before he could execute his retreat, hesitation stayed in his hand, his grip faltering as the telltale creak of the washroom door pierced the air, reverberating through the confines of the cabin with a sense of impending inevitability.
"Fuck!" Jungkook recoiled with a curse, his movements frantic as Taehyung's footsteps drew nearer.
A sudden reprieve came in the form of Taehyung's ringing phone, the sharp trill slicing through the tension like a knife, momentarily diverting attention away from Jungkook's precarious predicament.
His heart thudded a frantic rhythm, nearly leaping out of his chest as the cabin was pierced by the shrill ring of Taehyung’s phone.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Kang." Taehyung's voice resonated deeply, rolling through the small room like a gentle wave. His tone was rich and authoritative, a stark reminder of the wisdom and experience woven through his years.
Underneath the table, Jungkook's heart skipped, stilled, and then resumed in double time, his body responding instinctively to the sound of Taehyung's voice. It had been a whole week—a torturous span of time—since he’d last heard that deep, compelling timbre.
Each word from Taehyung felt like a brush of silk against Jungkook's skin, awakening a yearning he’d tried to bury.
Unaware of the younger man's presence, Taehyung continued his conversation. His chuckle—a low, husky sound—filtered through the air, and Jungkook bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. The sound of that laughter made his body thrum with heat, his mind swirling with memories of shared whispers and laughter.
Jungkook’s breath hitched as he felt a sudden warmth against his ear—a ghostly caress that seemed all too real. Wet lips seemed to move against his skin, biting and sucking softly, sending a wild rush of blood coursing through his veins. 'Clench around me.' Taehyung’s voice husked directly into his ear, breathy and laden with desire.
Jungkook's entire body tensed, his legs involuntarily stretching out beneath the confined space of the table. He shook his head, trying to dispel the vivid hallucination. No, Taehyung wasn’t there; he wasn’t whispering these sultry commands into his ear, not here, not now.
Sweat trickled down Jungkook's spine as his mind betrayed him. softness of the bed, and the hard lines of Taehyung’s body pressing him into the mattress. The older man moved on top of him with a practiced rhythm, each thrust designed to bring them closer to oblivion. 'that was good; now clench again.' Jungkook felt his body react, his entrance clenching around nothing but air.
"urmg," A soft moan slipped through his lips, muffled quickly by his own hand. His cheeks burned with embarrassment and desire, the cocktail of emotions intoxicating and overwhelming.
The memory of Taehyung’s dominance mingled with the stark, thrilling fear of being discovered in his hideaway. Each passing second under the table with Taehyung unknowingly commanding the space just beyond felt like a tightening coil in Jungkook’s stomach—a mix of dread and anticipation.
The phone call continued, with each word from Taehyung unknowingly fanning the flames of Jungkook's desire. With each passing second, the room seemed to shrink, the air charged with an electric tension that made Jungkook's skin tingle with the need to reveal himself and bridge the chasm of those unspoken, unseen desires.
"Okay, I'll email you. Have a good day." Taehyung's voice filled the cabin, smooth and decisive, as he ended the call.
Jungkook blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sudden stillness that followed. He knew Taehyung would now settle into the chair, his presence looming over the room like a comforting shadow. With a hesitant slide, Jungkook shifted backward, finding no remaining space under the table yet still yearning for the shelter it offered.
His gaze fell to his lap, discomfort prickling at the tightness of his pants. A soft sigh escaped him, his body already betraying him with arousal at the mere sound of Taehyung's voice. What if Taehyung caught him in this state? Jungkook's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the thought.
And there was a faint rustle of clothing and footsteps; Jungkook was wrapped around a scent like a blend of spice and serenity, comforting yet energizing—a subtle allure that left Jungkook enchanted by its captivating essence. o-oh Taehyung
Summoning courage, Jungkook dared to steal a glance, his eyes fluttering open to drink in the sight before him. There, sprawled before him, were Taehyung's long, inviting legs, stretching out tantalisingly close yet just out of reach. The fabric of Taehyung's pants hugged his form, accentuating every curve and line, a sight that both thrilled and tortured Jungkook.
his posture radiating confidence and authority—a commanding figure that left Jungkook both awed and unnerved. Those legs always formed the perfect lap for Jungkook.
It had been far too long since he had felt the heat of Taehyung's gaze, the electric charge of his touch. One fucking whole week.
With a shaky breath, Jungkook yearned to close the distance, to sink into the warmth of Taehyung's embrace, and to lose himself in the intoxicating scent of his skin.
Just as Jungkook was lost in the haze of his own desires, a sharp knock shattered the silence, jolting him back to reality.
"Come in," Taehyung's voice sliced through the air, authoritative and commanding, pulling Jungkook from the depths of his longing.
The sudden intrusion broke the spell between them, reminding Jungkook of the promise he had made in New York—that he would never approach Taehyung in a sexual way in Korea. With a heavy sigh, he pushed aside his desires, burying them deep within himself as the door creaked open and the sound of footsteps approached.
Taehyung straightened his posture, his demeanour shifting effortlessly as three employees entered and took their seats.
The girl with blonde hair, clad in an elegant red dress, beamed at Taehyung as he praised her working skills. She bowed gracefully, gratitude evident in her eyes as she uttered, "Thank you, sir."
Two male employees, one in a sharp grey suit and the other in a sophisticated nude suit, exchanged proud smiles as they listened to their colleague being commended.
Meanwhile, Jungkook's gaze remained fixed on Taehyung's half silhouette. His thoughts drifted to the events of the previous night, the memory of fucking with a stranger still fresh in his mind. But despite the physical satisfaction it had brought, Jungkook couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered within him. It was Taehyung he craved—Taehyung whose touch ignited a fire within him unlike any other.
As the meeting continued, Jungkook struggled to maintain his composure, his fingers tapping nervously against his thighs.
Every exchange between Taehyung and his employees only served to fuel Jungkook's yearning, with the gap between them feeling more pronounced than ever. He longed to bridge that divide, to lose himself in Taehyung's warmth and forget about everything else.
As his gaze lingered on Taehyung's bulge, Jungkook's body responded instinctively, a surge of arousal coursing through his veins. His lips parted in a silent plea, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he remembered the nights in New York when their bodies were entwined, Taehyung's girth filling him and stretching him in ways that left him breathless.
The memory of their passionate encounters left Jungkook feeling empty and hungry for more.
Despite his resolve to respect the boundaries he had set with Taehyung, Jungkook couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him.
The warmth of Taehyung's skin beckoned to him, tempting him to throw caution to the wind and give in to his desires.
But Jungkook knew he had promised not to disturb Taehyung in Korea and to keep their relationship clean like a washed condom.
He struggled to contain the longing that threatened to consume him, his heart torn between loyalty and desire.
With a defiant spark in his eyes, Jungkook justified his actions by telling himself that he wasn't breaking his promise; he was simply expressing his gratitude. After all, Taehyung deserved to be appreciated.
The thought of teasing Taehyung in front of the other employees sent a thrill coursing through him, his heart racing with anticipation. Yes, there would be consequences, but the thought only fueled Jungkook's desire further, igniting a sense of rebellion within him. Taehyung would throw him onto the table and fuck him senseless. What else could happen?
...to be continued...