The Bed Is My Territory
Juhee had seen Taemin’s bare upper body countless times. But perhaps because she had watched it since childhood, she had grown immune. After all, looking at him had never left her this flustered or flushed with heat.
Was the problem the man, or the body itself? If Han Taemin was a hulking, muscular lion, then Yoon Jeha was a sleek jaguar—one that could devour a lion without effort.
Ah, this is hardly the time to be appraising him. Reality crashed back in, and Juhee slowly opened her eyes.
“Representative-nim.”
“……”
“Representative Yoon Jeha.”
Even though she had called quite loudly, Jeha remained utterly silent, sleeping as if dead to the world. As she drew closer to the bed, the vivid, sculpted lines of his muscles filled her vision without restraint. His defenseless, sprawled posture looked unbearably sexy.
What kind of man could be this seductive at any hour of the day?
Juhee quietly clutched the sheet. If Yoon Jeha was completely naked, she intended to pull it up to his shoulders so that even if he sat up, his lower body would remain covered.
But the instant she carefully began to draw the sheet upward—
Whoosh!
Before she could even cry out, her body was yanked downward as if gravity itself had claimed her.
Thud!
Jeha stared down at Juhee, now pinned to the bed with her wrist trapped in his grip.
“Is this a dream… or what?”
His voice was low and gravelly, still thick with sleep. He narrowed his eyes, looking as though he were lost in thought—or perhaps wrestling with a dilemma.
She needed to tell him it wasn’t a dream, push him away, and climb off the bed. Yet the rope-like intensity of his gaze left her utterly immobile. This absurd situation, unlike anything she had ever experienced, left Juhee frozen, barely able to breathe.
A large hand suddenly reached out and removed her glasses. The back of it brushed her cheek like a caress, then that warm, broad palm gently cupped her face. His fingertips moved again, grazing her long lashes and carefully tracing every contour of her features.
Juhee had been helplessly offering her face as if spellbound. But when Jeha’s thumb pressed firmly against her lower lip, her mind snapped back into focus.
“……Stop.”
She whispered the word, her lashes trembling as she forced her eyelids open.
“Stop what?”
Jeha’s eyes glittered sharply, like a blade catching light. He was wide awake now.
“Stop touching me.”
“I don’t want to.”
She had expected him to bolt upright as if burned the moment he realized it wasn’t a dream and demand to know why she was there. Once again, her prediction was wrong.
“The bed is my territory.”
Wearing a languid, seductive smile, Jeha lowered his face as though he meant to kiss her. She knew better than anyone that this man would never actually kiss her. Yet an inexplicable fear made Juhee speak in a rapid, breathless rush.
“You said you weren’t enough of a bastard to lay a hand on your friend’s woman.”
Jeha paused at a distance where she could feel the warmth of his breath.
“If I am a bastard… does that mean I can do whatever I want?”
“No.”
Juhee answered in a whisper, then squeezed her eyes shut in horror. Anyone who wasn’t a fool would understand. The blunt, rigid pressure against her tightly pressed lower belly could only be one thing.
It was hard to believe, but Yoon Jeha was unmistakably, intensely aroused.
You’ll probably be able to endure it. But Yoon Jeha can’t. A man can’t do it if he isn’t turned on, you know.
Taemin’s humiliating words echoed in her mind, and the anger that surged past her fear summoned an absurd fantasy—closing her eyes and simply letting it happen with Jeha.
But the thought lasted only a heartbeat before Juhee swiftly abandoned it. She refused to cheapen herself. She would take revenge through nothing but her own competence.
“I would like to get down. The representative’s body is pressing on me… and it’s very uncomfortable.”
“Try wetting your lips before you lie. I haven’t put any weight on you at all.”
When she cautiously opened her eyes, her gaze locked vertically with his. Beneath his tousled hair, those long, slanted eyes were dark and unfathomably deep. She could read nothing of his thoughts.
“Not your body. The thing pressing against my lower abdomen……”
Juhee’s voice trailed off. There was simply no polite way to describe what was pressing against her.
He should have understood on his own. But the utterly unordinary Yoon Jeha simply waited with perfect composure for her to continue.
God, I hate Yoon Jeha. She hated this mortifying situation even more.
“The representative’s reproductive… in other words, your middle leg.”
“Ah. This.”
Ah. This? The words should have embarrassed him, yet Jeha remained perfectly at ease.
“I don’t think that’s something a princess who fearlessly jumped into a man’s bed first thing in the morning should say.”
Dismissing the matter as trivial, Jeha slowly sat up. Thankfully, he was still wearing underwear. He watched with a bored expression as Juhee scrambled off the bed and put her glasses on first, then folded his arms.
“Now tell me why you’re in my bedroom.”
He was the one wearing only underwear, so why did she feel as naked and exposed as if she were the one undressed? Jeha, by contrast, was not merely nonchalant—he was utterly confident. Of course, she had to admit his body looked far more impressive without clothes than with them.
“I’ll explain once you’ve washed up and come to the living room.”
“Washing up is a hassle. There’s no reason to.”
“Then I’ll wash you so it isn’t a hassle.”
“What?”
Jeha frowned as if he had heard something outrageous. But Juhee, whose determination had reached its peak, stepped forward with a resolute expression and began unbuttoning her sleeve.
“I’ve never washed an adult man before, but I’ll do my very best.”
Reading the steel in her eyes and the sincerity behind it, Jeha pulled a disgusted face.
“Just don’t put your hands on my body.”
“I’ve prepared honey water instead of the clean juice you usually drink. If you finish it, your stomach should feel better.”
Even as he looked at her incredulously, Jeha drank the honey water in silence. Juhee watched him calmly. It seemed his stomach really was bothering him.
She had expected him to come out fully dressed, but he emerged wearing only a bathrobe thrown loosely over his frame. Was it because he had a perfect body and was something of an exhibitionist? Or did he simply not see her as a woman? She was still pondering which it might be when Jeha spoke.
“Say it again. What am I to you?”
“Starting today, I am the personal secretary who will provide close care for the representative and assist with all work duties.”
“Who decided that?”
“It was the chairman’s directive.”
“Hey, Secretary Gong. Do I look like the kind of crazy bastard who would keep his friend’s woman as a secretary?”
Yoon Jeha must have assumed she had been one of those who recommended him to Chairman Yang. Juhee was just as confused by his incredulous reaction as he was by the situation.
“Is that my only disqualification?”
“I don’t hire women. They look at me too lustfully.”
“Is there anything else?”
Jeha narrowed his eyes at Juhee, who asked the question calmly without so much as blinking.
“While I’m still speaking nicely, why don’t you go back to Executive Director Han’s side like a good girl?”
“If you dislike me as a secretary, please go directly to the chairman and tell him so.”
“So the boss’s words don’t sound like words to you, is that it?”
Jeha’s gaze turned lethal. It was an expression she had never seen before, and cold sweat trickled down her spine. Still, Juhee held her ground with stubborn resolve.
If she could simply get Yoon Jeha to attend the breakfast meeting, her first mission would be complete. After that, no matter how much chaos he caused, Chairman Yang would protect her position.
“There is a breakfast meeting at Baegunjae at seven o’clock this morning. Please begin by doing something that will please the chairman and earn his recognition of my presence. After that, I will serve you with complete respect as my direct superior.”
“If I tell you to quit, you’ll quit?”
“Since it is the superior’s order, I must obey.”
It was a polite way of saying you are not yet my superior, so you have no right to command me. Jeha, who understood the implication perfectly, frowned and asked.
“Princess, can you drive?”
“I am the best driver.”
With a perfectly composed smile and impeccable posture, Juhee answered politely. She had no intention of mentioning that her license had been gathering dust in a drawer for seven years. How difficult could being the best driver be?
Only then did suspicion leave Jeha’s face. He turned away.
“I’ll change and come out. Wait here.”
Juhee quietly followed him toward the dressing room. At the threshold Jeha whirled around and looked down at her with an expression that clearly asked why she was following. She answered with complete sincerity.
“I will choose your clothes. I’ll help you put on your shirt and tie as well…?”
“Was seeing it with your senses not enough? Now you want to see it with your eyes too?”
She looked up at him, utterly bewildered. Jeha leaned his face down close.
“I’m not wearing anything under this robe.”
To Juhee, who stared up at him in shock, he flashed a bright smile and slammed the dressing-room door shut.
“Yoon Jeha, you son of a bitch.”
The moment he opened his eyes, Taemin spat out a curse.
He had no idea how many times he had clung to the toilet vomiting throughout the night. His stomach burned as if stripped raw, and his head throbbed like it might split open. He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten home. When he opened his eyes, he was in bed. The clothes he had worn yesterday lay scattered across the floor, and several glass ornaments had shattered miserably on the ground.
Clutching his aching stomach, Taemin rose from the bed and prayed fervently that Yoon Jeha would have to crawl out of bed on all fours.
When he stepped into the living room, he called out a name from habit.
“Gong Juhee.”
There was no answer. Not only that—the fragrant smell of pollack soup that usually filled the house on nights he drank too much was absent, and there was no sign of Juhee emerging from the kitchen wearing an apron and smiling. What on earth was going on?
Irritably sweeping his hair back, Taemin muttered as the events of the previous night came back to him.
“……So Juhee found out.”
That was why she was angry and hadn’t come today.
After a cursory wash, Taemin entered the dressing room and let out a bitter laugh. The hanger where Juhee always selected and hung his clothes according to his schedule was completely empty.
He grabbed whatever was closest, threw it on, and stuffed the tie into his pocket. He would ask Juhee to tie it for him once he reached the office. No matter how angry she was, Gong Juhee—who always drew a clear line between public and private matters—would never forget her duty.
Taemin knew this anger wouldn’t fade in a single day. It might take a week, perhaps even a month. But he believed with absolute conviction that Juhee would eventually return to him.
Once he had finished preparing for work, Taemin headed to the convenience store near his house. The moment he bought honey water and took a sip, he nearly spat it out again.
“Disgustingly sweet.”
It tasted nothing like the honey water Juhee made. Could store-bought honey water really be this bad? He tossed the bottle into the trash and was leaving the store when his shoulder collided with a passing pedestrian.
“Watch where you’re going! Young people these days—eyes glued to their feet!”
Taemin stared at the old man who was yelling after his own mistake as if he were nothing more than an insignificant insect. He didn’t avoid filth out of fear but because it was dirty. This was exactly why people with nothing never amounted to anything. Their inferiority complexes made them raise their voices at the slightest provocation.
Brushing off his shoulder as though something dirty had touched it, Taemin ignored the old man’s continued ranting and hailed a taxi. Swallowing down the bitter fluid that kept rising in his throat, he arrived at the company and immediately checked his watch.
Seven-thirty in the morning—the time when Gong Juhee would normally have arrived. But contrary to his expectations, the secretary’s office was empty. Even after nine o’clock, the official start of the workday, there was no sign of movement beyond the door of his executive office.
No matter how angry she was, she should still separate personal feelings from professional duty. Unable to contain his rising irritation, he reached for the phone—only to hear a knock at the door.
Taemin set the receiver down with deliberate casualness, as if he had never anxiously picked it up at all. But the person who opened the door was not Juhee. It was another secretary.
The secretary stared at his usually impeccable superior with unfamiliar eyes. To be precise, his gaze lingered on the bare skin of Taemin’s neck where no tie had been knotted.
When Taemin shot him a frigid glare, the secretary finally looked away and cleared his throat.
“Good morning, Executive Director. I’ll begin the schedule briefing for today—”
“Where is Chief Gong?”
Taemin cut him off savagely, his eyes clearly asking why this man was giving the briefing.
“Chief Gong has not come in today.”
The secretary’s answer sent another wave of irritation through him, sharpening his headache. Eyes closed, pressing hard on his temples, Taemin asked through gritted teeth.
“……Reason.”
Gong Juhee. So this is how you want to play it. Taking personal leave without even informing your superior.
“As far as I know, Chief Gong was reassigned to the new representative’s secretarial office starting today.”
At that moment, Taemin’s closed eyes flew open.