My Dad's Best Friend (A Touch of Taboo #3) - Katee Robert Page 0,5
were too young.”
But I’m already shaking my head. “You were forty, not seventy. This argument doesn’t make sense.”
I don’t realize Jonas is moving until he’s right in front of me. I take a step back without meaning to, a pure reflex, and he follows me. So I do it again. We engage in this strange little chase until my legs hit the couch and I lose my balance, landing on my ass on the cushion. Jonas follows me down, bracing his hands on the back of the couch and towering over me. “Listen closely, Blake because I’m only going to say this once.”
My smirk is pure bravado. “Your high and mighty grandfather sage tone is really impressive.”
He gives me a long look and I have the sneaking suspicion that he’d like nothing more than to put me over his knee and paddle my ass for mouthing off. The very thought sends a bolt of heat directly to my core. We didn’t get very long alone on that night, barely enough time for a short conversation and an illicit kiss. Not nearly long enough for me to realize I might get a perverse enjoyment out of pushing Jonas’s buttons.
He makes a rumbling sound that might be a low laugh and might be just a flat out growl. “You father is my best friend and, at the time, he was my boss. What the fuck do you think I was going to do when his precious little princess rubs herself against me and kisses me?”
“I don’t know, Jonas,” I match his dry tone. “Fuck her like she wanted you to.”
The muscles in his arms stand out and I don’t have to look to know that he’s white-knuckling the back of the couch. “You were a baby and you are my best friend’s daughter. Fucking you was never on the menu.”
“Don’t infantilize me. I knew what I wanted and I went for it. If you’re not into me, that’s fine, but don’t act like I didn’t know exactly what I was doing when I kissed you.” I’m getting angry now, truly angry. “And yeah, you might be friends with my dad, but that doesn’t make you my dad.” I glare. “Unless you want me to call you Daddy, in which case I’ll consider it.”
“Blake.” Oh, the warning in his tone.
He’s close to snapping and I’m a bitch because I want to keep mashing that button until he explodes. What will happen when he does? Will he rip off my clothes and fuck me right here on this couch? Will he haul me out of his house and slam the door in my face? I don’t know, and because I don’t know, I can’t stop myself from inciting him. “Jonas.”
“I might be an asshole, but even I have lines. Fucking the college-aged daughter of my friend and boss under his roof crosses that line.”
He’s right, and I know he’s right, but that doesn’t stop me from saying, “We’re not under his roof now.”
Jonas pulls back the tiniest bit, staring down at me like he’s sure I’m joking. I should be joking. If sex was a bad idea at that Christmas party six years ago, it’s an even worse idea now. If I want him to say yes to working with me for this account, fucking him will muddy the waters irreparably. And if I do and then he says yes and it gets out…
Our industry isn’t particularly large. I’ve never worried overmuch about image or tried to play a role to get me ahead. But even I can’t deny that reputation matters.
Why would it get out?
I shut down the little voice, because I can already see the answer written all over Jonas’s face. The rejection. He sure does like telling me no, and he confirms it when he shoves back. “No.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Blake.”
“I get it. Really, I do.” My body might be a little slower to come to terms with it. A steady heat pulses through me and I feel simultaneously too light and far too anchored in my skin. I push to my feet and try not to hold it against him when he takes a measured step back as if determined to preserve the distance between us. “I think it’s best I, uh, go to bed.” It’s not late, but the alternative is staying in his presence a moment longer than strictly necessary. I’ve already proven I have garbage self-control when it comes to this man. There’s no need to press