(while sober) at my boss and now he’d have no choice but to fire me.
I pulled back, tears stinging my eyes. I’d ruined everything, and now I’d lose him. The tangled longing inside my chest felt like a thousand knives ripping me from the inside out.
I couldn’t bear to look at him, mortification now creeping over me. Jerking my hands away from his chest as if they’d been scalded, I stumbled backward and his arms loosened.
“I’m sor—” I began, but couldn’t continue, because Parker was kissing me.
He hauled me against him with one strong tug, startling a gasp from me, and then he was pressing my lips open farther to deepen the kiss.
His lips were soft, his tongue hot as it slid against mine. The kiss was urgent, overwhelming, everything I’d wanted, and I was lost in it.
My hands crept up, my arms winding around his neck, until I could bury my fingers in his hair. The long strands were damp and silky soft. I could feel the heat of his skin as it leached through the thin fabric of my blouse. He’d moved a hand up to cradle my jaw; the other still pushed against my back, holding me close. As if I needed additional encouragement to press my body against his.
Months of pent-up yearning poured from me into him, and they felt returned tenfold. All the daydreams I’d denied having about what it would be like to be kissed by Parker were a pale imitation of the real thing.
His mouth claimed mine, marking me, the hold he had on my jaw gentle but firm, keeping me in place. As if I was going anywhere. Please.
Then, as abruptly as it began, it stopped.
He was gone, out of my arms, and I opened my eyes in confusion, bereft at the sudden loss.
Parker was standing in front of the windows, staring out. His shoulders were rising and falling with the breaths he took and I watched as he pushed a hand roughly through his hair.
I wasn’t sure what to do. What had just happened? Why had he stopped? He’d obviously enjoyed kissing me, I wasn’t naive enough not to have noticed that, so why quit?
I took a few tentative steps toward him, staring into the windows that reflected our images. His arms were crossed over his chest and he seemed to be looking at nothing.
“Parker?” My voice was small in the expansive space, and he didn’t answer.
Deciding to gamble a little more—at this point, what did I have to lose?—I moved until I stood right behind him. The bare skin of his back presented a temptation I couldn’t resist. Sliding my arms around his waist, I nestled against his back.
I pressed my lips to his skin, slowly scattering soft, open-mouthed kisses across the tight muscles in his back and shoulder blades. A shudder ran through him at the touch, which encouraged me. I rested the side of my face against him and just held on. My eyes slid shut.
“Sage.”
Parker turned and stepped away. My arms dropped to my sides and I looked up at him. His eyes were crystal blue and beautiful, but they were filled with pain, and I knew before he spoke again what his words would be.
“We can’t do this,” he said.
I stared at him. “Why not?” I asked. “Because of work?”
“Partly,” he replied. “But that’s not the only reason.” But he said nothing further.
I felt vulnerable—too vulnerable—with my shirt untucked and the bruises showing in stark relief on my face. Crossing my arms defensively across my chest, I said, “I think I deserve a better explanation than that.”
Parker was quiet for a moment while I held my breath, waiting. “You’re right. You do,” he said.
I slowly let my breath out, then wondered if I’d made a mistake. Maybe what he had to say would be worse than anything I could’ve imagined. Then what would I do? Perhaps the outright rejection would’ve been easier to live with.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” he began.
Okay, good so far.
“And we make a great team. I couldn’t ask for a better assistant than you.”
Not exactly what I’d been hoping for, but okay.
“But I’m…not relationship material, Sage. I’m toxic to relationships. Take you, for instance. All you do is work for me and look at what you’ve gone through because of that.” He stepped toward me as though compelled, his eyes glued to the bruises on my cheek. Lifting his hand, I thought he was going to touch me again, but he stopped. His