"I can’t still believe it," Erica said as she took another bite from her steak.
"I believe everyone has the same reaction," Thomas said nonchalantly as he also took another bite from his steak. "But I don’t have the time to convince them that I am the real leader, and not some figurehead."
"So before you got into my building, you were fighting the zombies outside, and got caught by what you call Reapers?" Erica inquired.
"That’s correct. If not for the Reaper, the two of us wouldn’t meet."
"And if that didn’t happen, I guess I would die alone in my office," Erica said, realizing Thomas’s presence in her life.
"Well you can thank the Reaper for putting me in that building," Thomas chuckled, and Erica followed.
Then—there was silence, they enjoyed the food that was in front of them, and they savored every bite of it as they knew it would be a luxury in the near future. Not unless Thomas decided to raise cows and other domesticated animals, which is he was considering.
It took them ten minutes to finish their meal, and Erica let out a sigh of satisfaction.
"That was so delicious! Thank you, Thomas," Erica said with a smile. "Ahh~you have done so many good things to me. Is there a way for me to repay you?"
Thomas contemplated for a moment. She doesn’t have anything that he wants from her aside from the fact that he is a boost to his balance in experience and gold coins.
"No we are even, you saved my life back there, so you don’t have to do anything," Thomas said.
Erica leaned back in her chair, her fingers trailing along the rim of her empty wine glass, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"You know, Thomas," she mused, her voice smooth and almost sultry, "I don’t think my conscience can rest until I properly repay you."
Thomas exhaled, pushing his plate aside. "Like I said, we’re even. You don’t owe me anything."
Erica tapped her lips with her finger, tilting her head slightly. "Hmm… But it doesn’t feel right. You’ve given me so much—a safe place, food, a hot bath… Surely, there must be something I can do to make it up to you."
Thomas took a slow sip from his glass, keeping his expression neutral, but he could already sense where this was going.
Erica was playing a game.
And she was good at it.
He set his glass down carefully. "I don’t think I need anything from you, Erica."
She hummed in thought, stretching her arms, and tilting her body slightly towards him. "Are you sure?" she purred, her tone playful yet dangerously inviting.
Thomas shifted slightly in his seat. "I’m sure."
Erica smirked, clearly enjoying his uneasy confidence.
"You know," she mused, standing up gracefully, "there’s one thing I’m really good at."
Thomas raised an eyebrow, watching as she walked around the table, her fingers lightly tracing the polished surface, her hips swaying just enough to be noticeable.
"I thought you were that."
She stopped just behind his chair, placing a hand on his shoulder, and then reached down.
"I am that, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t have a knowledge of it," Erica whispered so softly that it’s caressing his ears. "You don’t have to act tough, I know you want me."
Thomas gulped as he could feel his thing down there was getting hard—and she noticed the bulge.
"See…" she whispered, her breath warm against his skin, "even your body says that you want me."
Thomas clenched his jaw, willing himself to stay composed, but it was getting increasingly difficult.
She was good at this—too good.
"I think you’re misinterpreting things," he muttered, his voice lower than usual.
Erica chuckled softly, her lips just inches from his ear. "Oh? Am I?" Her delicate fingers trailed down his arm, barely grazing over his skin.
Thomas inhaled sharply.
His restraint was hanging by a thread.
"You’re playing a dangerous game," he warned, his tone steady, though his pulse betrayed him.
Erica pulled back slightly, moving around the chair to stand in front of him. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she rested a hip against the table, arms crossed, watching him like a predator toying with its prey.
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"Oh, Thomas…" she sighed dramatically, tilting her head, her hair cascading over her bare shoulders. "You act so disciplined, so controlled… but I wonder…" she trailed off, her eyes flickering downward for a split second before meeting his again. "Just how much willpower do you really have?"
Thomas remained silent, his fingers curling into fists on his lap, fighting the urge to react.
Erica leaned forward, too close—her silky skin illuminated by the warm light, her lips teasingly parted.
"Tell me," she whispered. "If I sat on your lap right now… would you push me away?"
Thomas gulped.
That damn smirk of hers widened.
"You wouldn’t, would you?" she teased, running a finger down his chest, feeling his tense muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.
Thomas’ heartbeat quickened, and he could feel his body warming. He couldn’t control himself anymore. She may be five or six years older than him but he would pounce at her.
His gaze shifted, from her collarbones, to her ample bosom, and her thick thigh. She has all the qualities that would make any man fall for her charm.
"Well—don’t say I didn’t warn you," Thomas suddenly rose and lifted her up before she could react, hoisting her effortlessly into his arms.
Erica let out a small gasp, her mischievous expression flickering with a brief moment of surprise before it morphed into something far more sultry.
"Oh?" she breathed, looping her arms around his neck. "So you do have limits."
Thomas carried her toward the bed, and dropped her onto it, , hovering over her, his arms braced on either side of her.
Erica bit her lip, her eyes filled with daring amusement. "Guess I pushed you too far, huh?"
"You wanted to play games," Thomas said, his voice lower, rougher than before. "I just decided to stop holding back."
Erica leaned in, brushing her lips dangerously close to his, but she didn’t close the distance. Instead, she smirked. "So… what now, young Commander?"
Thomas’ jaw tensed. He could feel the heat radiating off her, her body pressing just slightly against his, enough to drive his senses wild.
He let out a low chuckle, eyes locked onto hers. "You tell me."
Erica’s fingers trailed up his chest, then to his collar, playing with the fabric. "I thought you were supposed to be the one in charge."
Thomas smirked. "Then I say you’re getting way too comfortable in my territory."
Erica chuckled, eyes gleaming. "I like being comfortable."
Then, she pulled back just slightly, teasingly. "But I don’t think you can handle me."
Thomas raised an eyebrow at that, amusement flickering in his expression. "Oh? Is that a challenge?"
Erica tilted her head, grinning. "Maybe."
Thomas exhaled, the restraint he had been holding onto slipping further. His eyes darkened, his pulse pounding.
Then—without another word—he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him.
Erica gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as their bodies pressed together.
"You’re playing with fire, Erica," he murmured, his breath fanning against her lips.
Her smirk never faded. "Then burn me."
And in that moment, Thomas lost all hesitation.