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Eleven.
Fuck … fuck … fuck …
She continues talking. “I couldn’t go through with anything but dancing.”
I step forward and take her shoes from her hand and walk into her room. “Good.”
Her eyes narrow as she watches me sit on her bed. “No, it wasn’t good. I really wanted to, and I’ve got a guy’s number, and I’m going to stop thinking about you kissing me and call him back.”
“You kissed me back.”
Twelve...
“You’re not helping.” She huffs. “I’m going to stop thinking about it, and then I’m going to live my life before my mother tries to marry me off.”
“Thirteen…” I grunt.
“You missed loads of numbers out. I never heard...”
I take her waist and drag her toward me. “Thirteen years age difference. But I still can’t find a reason to stop this.”
She stands in front of me, mouth open, as I sit on her bed, running my hands from her waist to her hips and back up again. Trying to contain myself by rubbing the material of her dress between my fingers. Anything to stop myself from going any further.
There are so many things I want to do to her, things I shouldn’t want to experience with my best friend’s daughter.
“Just show me what to do,” she whispers.
My eyes roam up her body and meet hers. “What do you mean?”
“Sex. Show me. Then I’ll be braver than I act when I meet a man.”
“You’re asking me for a one time fuck?” I ask crudely, trying to hold my anger back.
“I’m asking for you to teach me what I need to know.”
“To get you experienced to be with another man.”
“I’m not stupid. I know this is not just a thirteen years age gap, Bast. You’re also my father’s best friend. Like you told me at the function, the kiss was a mistake. This time, we know what we’re doing. It’ll be an arrangement I’ve asked for. And we won’t make the mistake of pretending we can be anything other than boss and employee after tonight.”
“No way.”
Her shoulders sag as she lets out a defeated sigh. “Okay, but can you leave my room now, please?”
“No.” If she thinks I’ll fuck her and let her get away, she is so sadly mistaken. “Turn around.”
“Why?”
“Because I am trying my hardest not to touch you, Bree. Do you know how many times I envisaged this moment? Can you even comprehend what you do to me?”
“No. I just thought it was me…”
“Well, it’s not. Turn around.”
She gasps but obeys.
My jaw tics as I clench my fingers in and out of fists. It’s like the ritual I have before every operation. The need to make sure every part of my body is working before I begin.
“What now?” she asks. “Can’t you face seeing me when you tell me I’m a stupid girl for asking what I did?”
