“You sure you don’t need it?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m buzzed, and it wasn’t tequila. So, I should be fine.”
I scoffed, envying her.
“What?” she asked, eyelashes fanning over her skin.
“I remember when I was in my twenties. I never got hungover. Not so much now that I’m an old man.”
“You’re not old,” she said, swatting my chest playfully.
“I am, compared to you.” She arched an eyebrow, and I wondered what she was thinking. “What?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted her shoulder, a coy smile gracing her lips. “I guess I never see someone’s age or title—I see them. And to me, you’ve always just been Jonathan.” She shook her head. “Does that make any sense?”
It made a lot of sense because when we were alone, away from the office, away from Ian, it was easy to forget she was his daughter. It was easy to see her as a woman I was attracted to and not my intern. She was so mature and wise; it was easy to overlook her age, especially with all the deep, soul-searching conversations we’d had this summer.
“It does.” I leaned in to kiss her cheek, unable to stop myself. Alarm bells blared in my head. I needed to go before I did something stupid. Something unforgivable. “Good night, Sumner,” I whispered, lingering there a moment after I’d pressed my lips to her skin.
I told myself to move, but it was as if I were tethered to her, unable to break free. The smell of her shampoo filled my lungs, clouding my vision. The heat rolling off her body made me delirious. Made me believe I could have her, even when I knew it was impossible.
I was standing on the edge, peering down into the abyss, but I wasn’t sure which was scarier—stepping back or forging ahead. Stepping back was safe. Boring. But forging ahead…
“Jonathan,” she whispered, moving ever so slightly so our lips were lined up, noses touching.
My blood sang from her proximity, but my mind reeled. I clenched my fists at my sides and closed my eyes, inching closer to that invisible edge. But when her lips brushed against mine, pillowy-soft and inviting, I was a goner. I fell into the abyss, not caring if or when I’d hit the ground. All I cared about was kissing her.
I groaned when her tongue flitted out to meet mine. She tasted even sweeter than I’d imagined. Kissing her was like the high I’d get after a good workout, but better. And I craved more.
I took control, gripping her hips and backing her into the room. The door closed behind us, but my focus was on Sumner. She felt so good in my arms, so right, and I couldn’t stop exploring her with my hands, my tongue. I was a dying man, and she was my salvation.
My salvation and my damnation.
Oh fuck. What am I doing?
“Kissing me,” she said, making me realize I’d spoken the words aloud. “And doing it quite spectacularly, I might add.” She grinned, lips plump and red from where mine had been moments before.
“I-I—” I gripped her biceps, prying myself off her. We stared at each other, panting.
This was wrong. She was my intern. She was…fucking stunning. My thoughts were muddled from the alcohol, but mostly from this woman. She made it difficult to think clearly because all I saw—all I wanted—was her. Ineededher, consequences be damned.
“What do you want?” A sexy smile I hadn’t seen before. “All you have to do is ask.”
I couldn’t resist her. Not anymore. I yanked at the material of her dress, impatient, desperate. “Off. Need this off.”
“Yes,” she hissed, unzipping it before allowing the material to fall to the floor.
Her blush-colored bra was similar to the one she’d been wearing on the plane, the lace cups kissing the curves of her breasts. The color so close to her skin tone, I’d almost thought she was naked. I was so busy watching her that it took me a minute to realize she was sliding my jacket down my shoulders, loosening the buttons of my shirt.
Her small fingers fluttered about my chest like butterflies, her hands shaking ever so slightly. Was she nervous?Oh shit.My chest constricted. Was she a virgin?
I blinked a few times, clearing some of the fog of lust clouding my brain. “What are we doing?” I asked. “We need…?” She palmed me through my pants, and any attempt at coherent thought went out the door along with any remaining morals. “Fuuuuck,” I said, dragging out the word.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I slid my hands up her torso, teasing the bottoms of her breasts, lifting her bra ever so slightly and prompting her to gasp. I loved how responsive she was. How needy she was.
“This is a terrible idea,” I murmured between kisses. Someone had to say it.
“Is it?” She giggled as I kissed my way down her neck. “Oh god, that feels so good. Don’t stop, Jonathan.”
