smoke.
His face is perfect. As if sculpted lovingly by an artist who regarded the task as his life’s work. His granite jaw is locked, making him appear almost… irritated. His piercing blue eyes are locked on me, pinning me to the spot. I want to move, but I can’t.
I can’t look away.
Then his perfect lips lift the tiniest bit—in amusement or disdain, I can’t tell.
“Kindly remove your hand from my employee’s dick and come with me. It appears we need to talk.”
CHAPTER TWO
Foster
I knew this was a terrible fucking idea.
But how was I supposed to tell Mason I didn’t want his daughter interning for me?
“Sorry, man, but your little girl’s ass is a tempting distraction I absolutely don’t need in my life right now.”
Hell no.
I’d wanted to tell him no—even had the two-letter word sitting on the tip of my tongue—but he fucking begged.
Mason Landon Parker pleaded for a simple favor.
I owe him so much and he’s never once asked for anything in return. He’s a good guy. Wears charisma better than the ten thousand dollar suits he dons each day. Smart and business savvy and a fucking go-getter if I ever saw one. For most of our friendship, I’ve aspired to be as well-rounded as he is. I’d promised myself if he ever needed anything, I’d find a way to give it to him.
Except this.
Fuck.
Of all the things he could ask, this was the one that was almost too much.
Chelsea Parker.
The same stunning little temptress I’d flirted with when she was barely old enough to drive. Stupid and out of character. Yet, my dumb horny ass thought there was no harm in teasing the smiles out of her.
It’s not like I planned to kiss her or fuck her.
Harmless.
But it wasn’t harmless because I couldn’t get her out of my head. Two years later and my dick still reacts to the gorgeous young woman.
She’s untouchable, though, for a multitude of reasons. Not only is it against company policy to bend the hot new intern over my desk, fucking her until she screams, but she’s also Mason’s goddamn daughter.
“I, uh, it’s not what it looked like,” Chelsea croaks out, her cheeks flaming pink and her neck turning splotchy red. Her sea green eyes plead for me to understand.
I’ve never seen eyes that color green. Exactly like the Caribbean Sea that surrounded Saona Island in the Dominican Republic. The color, when I’d visited seven years ago, stood out to me. I took the time to really appreciate the fruits of my labor, enjoying every detail of that trip, even down to the color of the water. When I was a kid, I would have never imagined I’d leave Dad’s scummy apartment in the Bronx and one day be sitting on a boat marveling over the most beautiful scenery I’d ever seen—probably in the world.
And, yet, there I was.
Hard work and perseverance got me there. I’m not weak. I won’t allow myself to be sidetracked by a gorgeous socialite with a nice rack and legs that go on for a mile.
“Mr. Foster,” Ryan grumbles as he pulls his pants back up. “She spilled my coffee. It’s not whatever it looked like.”
I narrow my eyes, darting my gaze between the two of them. Ryan wilts under my stare while Chelsea simply seems mortified.
“Why don’t you run home on your lunch and take care of your situation?” I suggest, gesturing at the horror show that are his slacks.
Ryan sighs but nods. “I don’t have time for this, but I guess it’s out of my hands.”
“I’m sorry,” Chelsea blurts out as he passes.
His irritation melts away when he walks past her, unable to keep his lecherous eyes out of her cleavage. The urge to grab hold of his tie and yank him to his knees to remind him he serves me in this company is strong. Instead, I allow him his creepy peep show. Then, he’s gone, leaving nothing but the scent of cheap cologne and hazelnut in his wake.
“Mr. Foster—”
“We’ll discuss this in my office.”
I turn on my heel and storm out of Ryan’s office. Several women who are gathered nearby smirk at Chelsea. Unfortunately, I work in a den of vipers. Each female at this firm make up for their lack of cocks with razor-sharp fangs that are always poised at each other’s jugulars. I tip my head at the group, earning a few starry-eyed gazes in return.
Chelsea’s designer heels clack furiously behind me as she rushes to keep up with my intense stride.