"We
shouldn't do this," I whisper, but my body is waking up and
ignoring my mind all the same. My free hand reaches up and nervously
touches his shirtless, muscular torso, hovering tentatively at first
as if afraid before finally making contact. I linger on the strong
contours of his abs, tracing his perfect body with my fingertips, and
then I rest my hand gently against his chest. I can feel the pounding
of his pulse against my palm—his heart is racing just as quickly as
mine right now.
Terrence’s
eyes are closed, but I can still feel his desire in his tight
shoulders and see it on his lips. He stares at me with his eyes shut
as his imagination paints me in his mind. Even though I’m fully
clothed—even though he can’t even see me—I’ve never felt so
bare, so exposed and vulnerable before than now, lying beneath him as
he gazes at my imaginary beauty.
"Everything
about you excites me, Irene," he whispers, his voice shaking
with longing. "Every word you say, every last thing you do… I
see it all in my mind and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt
before."
He
caresses my cheek again and my legs start to shake. I can’t do
this. I want to so badly, but I can’t! He’s Terrence in my heart,
but in my mind, he’s one of my mother’s customers and I’m just
like her.
"Let
me up, please," I squeak, my voice barely audible through my
fear. I want him, but I’m too scared to let myself have him. He’s
my boss—I can’t let myself make love to my employer, no matter
how much I want to, no matter how much my body screams for me to give
in to the pleasure.
He
nods slowly and then releases his grip on my hand, sits up and pulls
away from me.
"I'm
sorry," he whispers, turning away as I stand up and straighten
out my tank-top. "I shouldn't have done that to you. Please
forgive me."
He
sounds sad at my decision, but behind that sadness I catch a
different, almost heartbreaking meaning. He’s sad that I rejected
him, but he’s even more upset because he thinks he’s hurt me
somehow. He thinks that he’s
the
problem. God, he couldn’t be more wrong if he tried to be.
The
way the moonlight illuminates half of Terrence’s face and blankets
the other in shadows is stunning beyond words. The moonlight streams
in the window and makes his muscles stand out in sharp contrast,
rippling bands of dark and light so gorgeous, so sexy that it’s all
I can do not to kiss him again.
"Terrence…"
I start, but my voice catches in my throat. I shouldn’t do this. I
can’t do this. If he was anyone else in the world, yes, but not my
boss. If I take this step, I’m no better than my mother.
"Yes?"
he asks.
What
did I want to tell him? I don't even know. I have no idea why I spoke
up.
Yes,
I do. I totally do. I'm just scared to say it.
"You
and I… um…" I stammer, knowing what I want to say but unable
to find the words. I stutter, flail in frustration for the words I
want to say, and just as I’m certain they’re going to elude me
forever, I finally find them.
"I
don't work for you tonight, okay?" I blurt out.
He
looks at me confused, as if he doesn't understand what I mean.
"Terrence,
I'm not your employee tonight," I tell him again, inching closer
to the bed.
"Irene,
I don't—"
"Say
it," I urge him as I close the gap between us and trail my
fingertips down the rock-hard curve of his shoulders. "It's just
Terrence and Irene tonight—no bosses and employees, no jobs or
paychecks, just us."
His
eyes widen in comprehension. He finally understands me.
"It's
just us tonight," he whispers, and before he can say another
word, I crash my lips into his, setting free all the passion and
longing pent up inside me, and I push him down onto the bed…