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I sat on my bed. We’d come back from the interview, and I’d told Tammy what I could, said I had the offer, and did not mention that I’d be turning it down tomorrow. She’d want to talk me into it, but there was no way I could, no way that I could risk any of this. What if Brandon… um, Mr. Duncan, tried again?
Do you want him to?
No, I couldn’t think like that.
I could not.
My best friend, the closest thing to family I had, was his daughter. I didn’t want to start my career out like this, and it was too much. I’d been upset. There was the complete exhaustion, and shock, from what Kevin had done to me. Then Mr. Duncan had the audacity to say I didn’t want this too; that I didn’t even want my dream job. Sorry if I was acting like a zombie when my heart was broken, and I was humiliated. It didn’t seem to stop Duncan from digging into me. Then the fight and the kiss.
Dear lord that kiss!
How did I even go from screaming at him to having his lips on mine?
I shivered again and leaned back against the headboard. It was only through intensive persuasion that I’d been able to get Tammy to go out with her mom without me. I promised her we’d celebrate this weekend, which was a huge lie, considering I had to turn the job down tomorrow. I couldn’t even explain to Tammy why I couldn’t do this. How do you tell your best friend that you were kissing her father?
And that you liked it.
“Damn it,” I swore under my breath.
That was the problem. I liked it. I loved the way he’d made me feel, the way I’d gotten wet for him so fast, the fact my heart had fluttered a million miles an hour, the way my breath had hitched… All of it. I’d been shocked, at first, but I wanted him. Jesus, the worst thing about all of this was that I was attracted to him too. I’d been alone in my room for almost thirty minutes, and the only thing I could do was think about him, that hint of cinnamon on his breath in my mouth, and regret that I couldn’t have gone further.
Walking in on Kevin must have broken my brain.
If this had happened yesterday, I’d have said no in a hot minute. But it hadn’t. And it was nice for once to feel wanted, to have such a powerful man who knew exactly what he wanted— to kiss me. Plus, there had been something else; something lingering between us. I’d never been kissed like that by anyone in my life, never felt that depth of a connection. A huge part of me wanted more, but that wasn’t something I was allowed to have.
Not unless I wanted to break my bestie’s heart, and be a publishing world punchline before I even had my byline.
Sighing, I surged to my feet and headed to the bathroom. A cold shower would help; it would have to do. Anything else was crazy.
***
The do
or opened.
I sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard. The silhouette wasn’t Tammy’s tall, thin frame. No. The light from the hallway, what dim amount there was, cascaded over the shoulders and broad body of someone else.
I stilled, and my mouth grew dry. I wasn’t sure what to do. It was possibly Tammy had got home in the early hours with a date who’d accidentally mistaken my bedroom for the bathroom. But then the stranger sauntered into my room and my jaw dropped. It wasn’t a new guy in Tammy’s life. No. It was Mr. Duncan. He was dressed in a pair of loose fitting slacks and a dark-hued silk shirt with a button or two undone at his neck.
The dryness in my mouth stopped, and perhaps nuts as this was, my clit throbbed and my pussy grew wet. I’d wanted him since that kiss, which had deepened between us earlier in the day. I’d been thinking about him obsessively, even in the shower. Now he was here as if I’d conjured him from thin air.
“Is this real?” I asked.
He strode into the room, moving with the agility of a jungle cat, and it took every bit of self-control I had to keep my fingers from reaching for my clit; to massage the bundle of nerves that seemed electro-charged, yearning for his touch.
“Does it matter?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made my panties wet.
“No,” I replied.
At that moment, I meant it. I didn’t care if this was a dream or a hallucination. I didn’t care if he’d come to me in real life, completely out of nowhere, to make my fantasies a reality. After how much I’d tossed and turned thinking about Mr. Duncan—about Brandon—and now he was here.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
He smirked, a look that should have been outlawed, and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. Heat flared through my body, my pussy throbbing more with need and desire, the thin cotton of my panties soaked through. God, he was gorgeous. Even at close to fifty, he was a total Adonis. As he let the shirt fall from his shoulders, the light of the moon hit his chest and torso. It illuminated his abs in startling relief, and I wanted to lick and trace secret patterns over the ridges with my tongue.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
I swallowed hard. “For me.”
