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“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his eyes studying mine.
I started to let go of his face and took a step away from him. Or would have had my foot not caught on Bayou’s.
Before I could so much as fall backward like I knew I was going to do, Bayou pulled me into his body.
I fell into him with a small ‘oomph’ on my part, and stood there, leaning against him entirely, for a few long seconds.
That was when I felt the distinct hardness that was now against my body—my belly, to be specific.
The way he was leaning on the bike meant my body was bowed into his, and I could feel every single muscle, including the ones in his arms which my hands were firmly attached to.
My face was also inches from his again, and this time I was pressed up against him.
There really was no other recourse.
I had to do it.
I kissed him.
One hot, wet kiss and then I was standing on my own with Bayou an entire ten feet away.
I blinked as I tried to get my equilibrium about me.
Bayou was watching me like Phantom eyed her dinner. His eyes were huge and locked on me, and his hands were clenching and unclenching as if he was trying to will himself to stay still.
I swallowed hard.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
He looked at me as if I’d sucker punched him.
I wasn’t sorry at all.
Kissing him was the highlight of my life.
My first kiss.
My first grope, too.
Oh, God.
I’d just groped my employer!
Shit!
“I didn’t mean to!” I lied quickly. “I swear. I just…shit! I swear. I…fuck. Yeah.”
Then I turned around and started to head back inside.
I needed to leave.
I needed to get the fuck out of here and not look back.
I needed to…
Bayou caught my hand and pulled me to a stop. His thumb swept absently over my tattoo as he whirled me around and forced me to face him.
I closed my eyes and refused to look at him.
Even when his hands found my cheeks and he cupped my face just like I’d done to his a few long minutes ago. Even when he said, “Look at me.”
I shook my head, refusing.
Holy shit, I was so embarrassed.
I would rather shoot myself in the foot with a harpoon than look at him right then.
“Look. At. Me.”
Still, I refused.
“No.”
“It won’t go away.” He sounded amused.
“Maybe it will,” I replied lamely.
“You can’t undo kissing me.” He said laughing.
“It never happened,” I lied.
“It did happen,” he murmured. “Your lips touched mine.”
He sounded so happy that I chanced a peek through half-slitted eyelids.
He was watching me with a grin on his face.
Bayou never smiled.
Not ever.
I opened my left eye all the way and stared at him as if he had a screw loose.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked.
“Because I was waiting for your eyes to open so I could kiss you again.” He paused and looked at my unopened eye. “I guess I could kiss you with one eye open.”
Then his mouth was back on my own, and this time I wasn’t the one in control of anything.
Not my mouth. Not my tongue. Not my lips. Not my hands. Not even my thoughts. He controlled everything, and before I knew it, my hands were up his shirt feeling his muscles, my body was pressed up against his, writhing with need, and he was backing me up until my back was against the brick building.
I gasped when he pressed against me fully, letting me feel every delicious, hard inch of him.
But before I could go any further, such as doing something that would be monumentally stupid seeing as he was my boss and we were standing outside of a building that was so wired that my dad was about to come out at any second and yell at me, I stopped.
Well, technically, he stopped. I didn’t.
I had no choice but to watch him back away from me, one slow step at a time.
“One day, when my life isn’t a complete cluster fuck, we’re going to explore this.” He growled. “I’m giving it a month.”
I frowned. “Why a month?”
“Because, if it’s not fixed by then, then it probably never will be.” He paused. “Not to mention the fact that I’ve been staying away from you since I saw you at a party when you were fifteen. The only reason I was able to stay away was because you never showed any outward signs of being attracted to me. Now that I know differently…all bets are off.”Chapter 9I hate it when that woman acts like a supervisor. Bitch, act your wage.
-Phoebe’s secret thoughts
Phoebe
He walked in and I blushed.
From the roots of my hair to, I was sure, the tips of my toes. But since I couldn’t actually see them to confirm, I had to go on the fact that my toes felt hotter than normal.
