it isn’t cool for you to research my par—”
“Background check,” I cut her off.
Damn her, she’s too cute.
“I know, Mag, but you can’t just buy my mom’s books. She’ll think she has real sales and living, breathing fans. She’ll start thinking she can count on those sales to—”
Screw resisting.
Screw her worries, too.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out and grab her, pulling that lithe body into my lap. I bend my head, facing her lips.
She doesn’t complain.
In fact, she sighs.
And every muscle in my body hardens.
“Save it for another time,” I whisper. “We’ll talk about it, I promise, but right now, we can’t save this magnificent sunset.”
“Oh.”
One word, and not even that, just a hot sigh pouring out of her, cascading against my mouth from the sliver of space left between us.
This woman will end me, and I’ll die smiling at her beauty.
Perfect sunsets aside, there’s something else I can’t save.
The narrow gap between us closes.
Her eyes go wide, all anticipation, an energy whipping through her.
My tongue flicks across her bottom lip.
She opens her mouth. This time her sigh is longer, higher pitched.
So much for a prayer of holding back.
I devour her then, slipping my tongue in and tasting her mouth, exploring her winding tongue, the inside of her lip, her top palate, and every airy breath she gives.
It’s a fuck-hot kiss for the ages under the tinted desert sky, as if we’re part of this landscape of sorcery and sin.
Her hands move to my head, her fingers attacking my hair, those nails that once wanted to slash ribbons across my face now begging for more. She shifts her weight over me.
Right over my hardness.
It’s a sweet hell, agonizing, and if it doesn’t stop now, it’s going to go too far. I deepen the kiss, pull her closer, claiming her with my hands, my teeth, my tongue.
My grip around her tightens, savoring the last few seconds, one last hurrah.
Because I know damn well what I have to do next.
I’m almost snarling as my head snaps back, jerking away, gasping for air.
I’m not alone. She’s panting, struggling to catch her breath while every bone in my body soaks up this sickness.
Fuck.
I’m just like my old man. I can’t lose the best EA I’ve ever had—not like this—and I won’t let her suffer through a scandal I probably deserve.
Office scandals follow women, and for her, it isn’t fucking fair.
“Sorry. We’ve both been drinking,” I say, trying to brush it off as the reckless, godawful wine-fueled error that it is, without making her feel ruined.
Right.
She stares at me wide-eyed but doesn’t say anything.
“I had to do something to calm you down. You were acting like a lunatic because I bought a few books.”
She’s confused. “Mag?”
I shake my head.
“Forget it. I meant every word of what I said; your bonus paid to your mother was well deserved, and you shouldn’t worry about it. Umm—” I wag a finger between us. “This thing that happened...too much wine and not enough water. I always forget how dry the air gets out here, even in the cooler months. Again, I had to do something to calm you—”
Her eyes bore into me, and she cuts me off.
“Got it. It’s not like I asked you to.”
Shit. Is she talking about the money or the kiss? Does that mean she didn’t want it?
“We’ll never speak of it again, and you’re still the best EA I’ve ever had. Deal?” I ask, offering my hand.
She doesn’t answer.
She storms away.
Downhill in flip-flops.
My gut clenches and my heart jumps into my throat. She almost fell several times on the way up, and going down, she’ll only have more momentum.
I race up behind her and scoop her up again, tossing her over my shoulder. She’s like a down pillow in my arms. She fights at first, her face crimson, but then she relents, shifting to stare at my lips like she can’t believe we went there.
I’m such an unholy jagoff.
“I thought we were done? Never speaking of that stuff again?”
“We won’t, but I’m not letting you break your neck either, woman. I have too much work for you to do.”
“I hate you.” Her words are humorless, menacing, a tone I haven’t heard her use before, and fuck, do I deserve it.
Let her loathe the ground I walk on and surround herself in barbed wire.
It’s the reminder I need, before I do the unspeakable.
If Sabrina Bristol hates me, maybe that’s the best thing I could hope for.
Years Ago
To: Magnus Heron
From: Jesy Cho
Subject: You People Are