Only on Company Time

MM Office Romance
by Jace Wilder

Available at all major retailers

Pairing: MM
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Friends with Benefits, Office Romance, Forced Proximity, Grumpy/Sunshine, Secret Relationship, He Falls First, Control/Surrender, Touch Starved

They had one rule: keep it between 9 and 5. They broke every other one first.

Adrian Vale is the Director of Operations who runs the office like a military installation. Pressed shirts, color-coded calendar, inbox zero by 8 AM. He keeps his relationships strictly professional — even the one that happens twice a week in a locked conference room with a man who makes him forget every rule he’s ever set.

Leo Cruz is the top sales rep who treats the office like his personal stage. Loud, charming, reckless — and completely, hopelessly in love with a man who has a rule against feelings. He agreed to the terms because having Adrian on Adrian’s terms was better than not having him at all.

Their arrangement is simple: only during work hours. No texts after 5 PM. No dinners. No weekends. No feelings. It works — until their company’s biggest client threatens to leave and Adrian and Leo are assigned to the same emergency task force. Suddenly they’re working late nights, early mornings, weekend sessions — and the boundary between “company time” and “real life” dissolves.

Now they have to confront what they’ve been doing, what they’ve been feeling, and whether they’re willing to risk the only safe thing either of them has — for everything.

You’ll love this book if you enjoy:

✅ Friends with benefits to lovers (the slow, agonizing kind)
✅ Office romance with locked-door heat
✅ Grumpy/sunshine with “he falls first, he falls harder”
✅ Possessive jealousy (“he can’t have you” energy)
✅ Forced proximity that breaks every rule
✅ Slow burn that EXPLODES (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ — graphic, explicit, emotional)
✅ A hero who learns that needing someone isn’t weakness
✅ HEA guaranteed (with a proposal that will wreck you)

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⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic MM scenes), strong language, workplace power dynamics, and depictions of emotional vulnerability and family estrangement. Intended for readers 18+.

📖 Read Chapter One Free

Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.

Chapter One: Adrian

The alarm went off at 5:15, but Adrian was already awake.

He’d been staring at the ceiling for six minutes, running through his calendar like a pre-flight checklist. 8:00, department sync. 9:30, budget review with Maya. 11:00, Claire’s standing leadership meeting. 2:00, the Whitman account follow-up in Conference Room B.

His jaw tightened on that last one.

Conference Room B wasn’t about the Whitman account. It hadn’t been about the Whitman account for four months. But it lived on his calendar that way — a clean, professional line item that nobody would question, sandwiched between a vendor call and a facilities review.

Adrian rolled out of bed and silenced the alarm before the second pulse. His apartment was dark, quiet, organized. Bed made in under ninety seconds, hospital corners, because that was how his mother had taught him and old habits outlasted the women who built them. Gym clothes were already laid out on the chair. Coffee was pre-set to brew at 5:20. His life ran on rails, and the rails were polished to a shine, and that was exactly how he wanted it.

Shower. Black coffee, no sugar — he added sugar sometimes, but only when nobody was watching, and at 6:15 AM in his own apartment, the only witness was the spider plant on the windowsill that he’d been accidentally keeping alive for two years. He allowed himself the sugar. It was a small, private weakness, and he collected those carefully, like a man who understood that too many of them would bring down the architecture.

Shirt: white, pressed, French cuffs. Pants: charcoal, flat front, tailored. Belt: black, simple, no logo. Watch: his grandfather’s Seiko, the only sentimental thing he owned. He checked himself in the bathroom mirror — not out of vanity, but quality control. Everything in place. Everything managed.

He looked at the man in the mirror and thought, for exactly one second, about Leo Cruz’s mouth.

Then he picked up his briefcase and left.

Ridgeline Consulting occupied the sixth and seventh floors of a glass-and-steel building in Midtown. Adrian had worked there for seven years, climbing with the methodical patience of a man who understood that competence, applied consistently, was more powerful than ambition. He was Director of Operations now. The sixth floor ran like a Swiss movement because Adrian Vale did not tolerate entropy.

He badged in at 7:02. The elevator was empty. Adrian pressed 6 and checked his inbox. Fourteen emails since midnight. Two from Claire. One from Maya with the subject line don’t open this until you’ve had coffee. And one from Leo Cruz — sent at 11:47 PM — with the subject line RE: Whitman Account – Updated Notes.

Adrian opened it.

Attached are my updated notes for the Whitman follow-up. Also I ate your yogurt from the break room fridge. The one with your name on it. It was strawberry. You should’ve gone with mango.

— L

Adrian stared at the email for the rest of the elevator ride. It was nothing. It was completely nothing. And yet he could hear Leo’s voice behind every word — that lazy, warm, half-grinning tone that Leo used when he was being charming on purpose, which was always, because Leo Cruz had never met a room he didn’t want to seduce.

Adrian locked his phone. He did not smile.

He did not think about Leo Cruz’s mouth again for almost forty minutes, which was practically a record.

He walked back to his office and Leo Cruz was leaning against the doorframe.

Not inside. Not passing by. Leaning. Shoulder against the frame, coffee cup in hand, looking like a man who had all the time in the world. Navy button-down that fit too well, sleeves shoved up past his forearms, tie already loosened.

“Morning, boss,” Leo said.

“I’m not your boss.”

“Director of Operations. That’s pretty bossy.”

“And yet here I am.” Leo sipped his coffee. “At your door. Like a stray cat you made the mistake of feeding once.”

“Just confirming the 2:00. Conference Room B. Whitman follow-up.” His eyes flicked down Adrian’s body so fast that anyone else would have missed it.

Adrian didn’t miss it. Adrian never missed anything Leo did, which was becoming a significant operational problem.

“Confirmed,” Adrian said. “Bring the updated notes.”

“Already printed.” Leo pushed off the doorframe. “Your snack game is weak, Vale.”

He walked away. Adrian watched him go — three seconds, no more — and absolutely did not think about the way Leo’s shoulders moved under that shirt.

The 2:00 was four hours away.

Adrian started counting.

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Off the Clock — The Honeymoon — A scene TOO HOT for retailers

Adrian and Leo on the Amalfi Coast. A private villa. A balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. No schedules. No rules. No clocks. Just two married men discovering exactly how many times they can wreck each other before checkout. Outdoor sex, role reversal, and the filthiest, most tender chapter in the series.

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