Unmatchable
Page 29
“A massage?” The words sound like a jumbled mess. I'm so focused on his large hand caressing mine, the way his fingertips trace lightly over the pads of my fingers.
He glances at my face, and our eyes meet. It feels like my heart is in my throat. He's looking down at me with a strange eroticism. I want so much to stand up on tiptoe and kiss his lips. They're slightly parted and oh so delicious. “Yes. A massage,” he repeats slowly as if I don't understand English.
I wish he would back away so my senses can return to me. But he stays firmly rooted in place, giving me that panty-melting look that makes me want to shed my clothes and jump on his cock. I cast a glance downward. He's still erect. How has he managed to stay erect this whole time?
I bite my bottom lip, jerking my eyes up to meet his. If he points out that I'm staring at his dick again, I might die from embarrassment. This has already turned into the most intense interview of my entire life. “I came here to interview for the receptionist position,” I remind him.
“The massage therapist position pays better.” Now he's kneading my palm with his strong fingers. It feels so good that I fear I might melt right in front of him.
“How much better?” My voice sounds too aroused for the situation. I wish I could suck the words back into my mouth and make them come out different.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?” I gaze into his eyes as a tremor of nervousness rolls down my spine. Did I say something wrong?
“Bite your bottom lip.” He's staring at my lips now, and there's a wanton look on his face that's unmistakable. The air between us is so heavy with desire. Part of me is waiting for him to pounce on me. I want him to so badly.
“Why not?” I take my bottom lip between my teeth again. It's an uncontrollable nervous habit I have.
“Because then I'm going to want to bite it,” he growls, leaning into me. My entire body tenses as I realize he's about to kiss me. I close my eyes and part my lips, waiting with silent gleeful anticipation. This is like a fantasy come to life. What woman wouldn't want to be seduced by an incredibly gorgeous naked man in an office? I wait for impact, but instead of his mouth, the pad of his thumb brushes lightly over my bottom lip. “You're so beautiful, Kira. I'd like to offer you a job.”
“A job.” My eyelids flutter open. While I'm disappointed that he didn't kiss me, the thought that I might get to see him again is promising.
“Mm-hmm.” He nods. “You never answered my question.”
“What question?” I can't remember anything he's asked me. All I can think about is the way his thumb felt on my bottom lip. I trace my tongue over it, tasting the salt of his skin.
“Have you ever given a massage?” He retreats back to the massage table, giving me room to breathe. I inhale deeply, like I haven't taken in oxygen the entire time I've been with him.
“No.” I shake my head. “Well, I mean, I've given some fake ones to my friends and family.”
“Fake ones?” He grins.
“I'm not licensed.” I wrap my arms around myself as if it will protect me from his mocking.
“There's no such thing as a fake massage.”
“I'm not qualified, is what I mean.” I frown at him. He doesn't need to rub it in.
“I don't really care if you're qualified or not.” His serious disposition returns.
“I didn't apply to give massages.” He seems to keep losing sight of that fact. I've never even considered being a massage therapist before. Sure, I'd love to put my hands on his body, but not in that way.
“I'm offering you a better job than the one you applied for.” He grips the side of the massage table with both hands to put more of his weight on it.
Did he just say he's offering me a job? It takes a moment for my mind to snap to that realization. He hasn't even really interviewed me, and he's offering me a job. This is beyond surreal. “How much does it pay?”
“Considering you don't have any experience, I'll start you at ten dollars per hour until I can get you enrolled in classes, which I'll pay for. While you're going to school, I'll pay you twenty dollars an hour. And when you graduate, I'll raise you to forty dollars an hour.”
Forty dollars an hour? There's no way I could ever make that much money without a college degree. And he's offering to pay for my schooling. Suddenly, I wish I had something to lean on to steady myself. This has to be a dream.
“Are you interested?”
Who wouldn't be interested? “What are the hours?” Does it really matter? Forty dollars an hour and free schooling is way more than I'm willing to pass up.
“That's the crux of the offer. It's just part-time. I would only require your services one hour a day, Monday through Friday.” His eyes lock onto my face as he waits for my reaction.
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. They say if it sounds too good to be true, it usually is. This is no different. There's no way I can survive on what he's offering. The fantasy melts away as I shake my head. “I'm afraid that won't be enough. I need a full-time job to pay my rent.” My rent, which is almost due, which my parents are going to have to pay for the second month in a row. This is the last time they're going to let me borrow money from them before they force me to move back home. I have to get a full-time job; I have no choice.
He shifts his weight, realizing he's losing me. “We might be able to work something out. I can probably find somewhere to stick you when you're not servicing me.”
“Where would you stick me?” I have to fight to keep myself from frowning. Just repeating it makes me think of an old broom being put in a closet until it's needed again.
“I would not want you to be my receptionist,” he says boldly, stinging me to the core. Does he think I'm too flaky to be his receptionist? Just because I'm blonde doesn't mean I'm stupid. “You're too beautiful to share with the world.”
I catch myself biting my bottom lip again. What's with him? He's a mixture of sweet and asshole. I'm not sure if I like it or not.
“I'll have to look at your resume and see what you're suited for,” he continues. “So, do you want the job or not?” There's an impatient twinge to his voice, as if he feels I've wasted enough of his time.
“I'd really need to know what else you would have me do first,” I respond timidly. I still have no idea what his company is about. He could sell sex toys, for all I know.
“I'm too busy to pull your resume right now. Come back next week at the same time, and I'll give you a second interview. I'll have a better idea of what you're qualified for then.”
I cringe at the thought of having to wait another week for employment. This is too bizarre anyway. Getting a paycheck is much more important than seeing his gorgeous face again. If something comes up between now and then, I'll take it. It never hurts to keep my options open though. “All right. I'll be here next week.”
“Excellent.” He pushes himself off of the table and goes over to a chair in the corner of the room where his business suit is lying, perfectly folded. I shamelessly watch the muscles of his butt flex while he walks, thinking about how much I'd love to dig my nails into that ass. “I'm a very busy man, so if you'll excuse me while I dress. I'll look forward to seeing you next week.”
And I'll look forward to seeing you too, Mister Naked. I don't bother to respond as I open the door and prepare to slide out.
Before I've reached the other side, he pauses, casting a lazy glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and Kira?”
“Hm?” I give his naked backside one last lingering look.
“Don't be late next time.”
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue