I couldn’t contain my shiver and a small smile lifted his mouth.

He lowered his head until we were sharing our breaths. My blood roared in my ears as his eyes dropped to my mouth.

What the hell are you doing, Cora? Pull away!

But I couldn’t move. My limbs felt heavy and lethargic and I had to lean against the wall. His cheeks and chin were darkened by stubble. Instead of looking disreputable, he looked sexily scruffy. My eyes locked on his hard mouth. Only it didn’t look hard right now. It looked soft and inviting.

I didn’t know who closed the gap, but the moment our lips touched, I felt an electric shock run through me. White-hot desire flared, destroying very drop of common sense. Rationale wiped out. Sanity obliterated.

His lips were soft and unyielding at the same time. My eyes fluttered closed and I opened my mouth to taste him. Our tongues tangled and I moaned softly as my taste buds shuddered in delight. No man could be this delicious. I sucked on him as he invaded my mouth and I realized this one man– Jake Weston– could and did taste like ambrosia.

His fingers clasped the back of my neck to angle my head for deeper contact and I wrapped my arms around his broad back. His muscles bunched under my palms as he pressed his body against me. My shoulder blades jammed painfully against the wall, but I pulled him even closer, reveling in the contrast of our bodies. My softness against his unforgiving hardness. His masculinity against my femininity.

Involuntarily, my thighs opened and he pushed his pelvis into the space, letting me feel his thick arousal. Unbearably turned on, I rubbed my soft belly against his hard-on and keened when he bent his knees and thrust against me, hitting me right where I needed him most. My cry was smothered by his mouth. My sex pulsed in need, feeling empty and achy. And only Jake could assuage that ache.

My lungs were starved for air, but breathing didn’t seem as important as licking the space behind his even teeth. Or as important as his tongue seeking the deep recesses of my mouth. Our raspy breathing and muffled moans heated the air around us.

“Cora! Are you okay?”

Marcus’s voice jolted me to reality and I frantically pushed against Jake’s shoulders. He abruptly released me and took a step back. If it weren’t for the wall at my back, I would have crumpled to the ground. I panted for air and I took grim satisfaction in the sound of his ragged breathing. I had to swallow a couple of times before I could trust my voice. “I’m fine! Go back inside. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Okay.”

I was never more grateful for the super’s laziness. If the lights had been on, Marcus would have gotten an eyeful.

The apartment door closed. The back of my head banged against the wall with a twack. Tears seeped from the corners of my eyes. I had royally screwed up my life with my impulsiveness. The lump in my throat felt like it was choking off my air supply. “I’m sorry, Jake. You don’t need to worry about firing me. I’ll give you my letter of resignation first thing tomorrow.”

“The hell you will,” he said hoarsely before he opened the door and stalked out.

Chapter 8

I walked into work the next day and looked around nostalgically. Today would be my last day of work and everything took on a rosy tint. Even Alana’s disdainful face did not manage to annoy me. She looked like I jabbed her with a cattle prod when I smiled sadly and greeted her as if we were old friends.

In spite of Jake’s cryptic remark, my resignation letter was in my purse.

After he left, I had wiped my cheeks and climbed wearily up the stairs. My brother was too excited to notice how withdrawn I was. He had prattled on and on about how “cool” and “awesome” Jake was. When he talked about seeing Jake again, I didn’t have the heart to tell him the probability of that happening would be the same as finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

I still couldn’t believe I had gotten myself fired because I couldn’t control my libido around my boss.

The crazy thing was I didn’t realize I had a libido until I met Jake.

I enjoyed reading romance novels, but I always knew in the back of my mind that it was fantasy. Surely, women wouldn’t want to rip their clothes off at the mere sight of a good-looking man, no matter how dashing they were. After last night, I finally understood what the heroines must have felt if their heroes were anything like Jake.

Not only had he been incredible with Marcus, he had dropped everything to help me. I never thought I had a Cinderella complex, but I had to admit there was something intensely gratifying about a man putting my needs first.

“When I hire an assistant, an assistant is all I am looking for. I don’t want to mix business with pleasure. I take it you wouldn’t have a problem with that, Cora?”

His words echoed in my head and I cringed, remembering my then contempt for his arrogance. I was so confident I would be immune to him. Now I was just one of many ex-assistants who couldn’t resist the magnetism of Jake Weston. It was humiliating.

The memory of the kiss at the bottom of the stairs kept me tossing and turning all night. The way his hard body pressed against mine. The way our mouths fit together hotly and hungrily. The way arousal flashed through me like lightning.

I kept telling myself I should have put a stop to it, but the tide of passion had dragged me down in its undertow so fast, I couldn’t think straight. The truth was if Marcus had not interrupted us when he did, I would have let Jake fuck me against the wall.

When I looked at my reflection this morning, I saw a hungover raccoon, with blood-shot eyes and dark circles under my eyes.

I felt sick to my stomach. I had lost my job because I couldn’t control myself. And my selfish actions affected my brother as well. Not only did I need to hustle to find another job before we were out on the streets, but Marcus would never see the inside of Robotrex.

The only bright spot– more like a speck– was that Ms. Woodsen was willing to reduce Marcus’s suspension from three days to one. Flayed with guilt, I couldn’t meet his eyes when he told the principal his side of the story. I knew he would refuse to say anything if he realized the reward of visiting Robotrex was off the table. The hour of reckoning would come when I returned home early today.

I bypassed my desk. There would be no point in booting up my computer when I would be leaving in five minutes.

I guess I never made it to the one-month mark after all.

Less than four weeks ago, I walked into this office and did everything to avoid working for Jake Weston. Today, I’d do everything to keep the job.  One day, I’d probably find the irony darkly amusing, but right now it was painful.

With letter in hand, I knocked on Jake’s door, which was ajar.

He looked up, his face unreadable.

Closing the door behind me, I walked up to his desk and placed the letter in front of him. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Weston.”

My formal address seemed to push a hot button because fury contorted his face. He stood up and planted his fists on the table, body leaning aggressively toward me. “Don’t you dare call me that after last night,” he growled.

I had hoped to leave without him bringing up the humiliating incident. My cheeks turned pink and I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry about everything, Jake. I know how you feel about your assistants… um…” I clasped my palms together, “so um…I’ll just clear out my desk and get going.”

He rounded the desk and manacled his hands around my upper arms, fingers biting into my flesh. His grip was tight, borderline painful. “No! I’m not accepting your resignation.” His voice was gritty and harsh.

My eyes popped open in surprise. “What?”

He looked deadly serious. “I’m not accepting your resignation.”