Page 23 of Illicit Education

First of all, why I need to earn a living and how I do so are none of his business.

Second of all, where does he get off smelling so good?

Turning slowly, I braced myself for my body’s reaction to him.

Yep. There it was.

That tightening of my gut.

That tingling in my veins.

Stupid body.

His dark eyes locked with mine. That annoying smirk pulled at his lips. And the heat of his stare… it somehow seeped down into my bones and tugged at my groin.

It should be illegal to be so sexy, especially when you were as much of an ass as this man right here.

He raised his eyebrows.

I raised mine right back.

Mr. Reed’s lips twitched. “Why are you getting a job application?”

“I’m just an unpaid intern.” I followed that up with a saccharine smile.

His eyes tightened at the edges, emphasizing crow’s feet that made him look even more handsome. It really wasn’t fair how men aged like fine wine. Meanwhile, I wasn’t even twenty-five yet and already getting Botox ads targeted to me on social media.

“We don’t pay our interns?”

“Seriously?”

He just held my gaze, waiting.

Like I was going to explain his own company to him.Ha.Not a second time, thank you very much. I’d mansplained enough for the both of us today.

We remained locked in this silent exchange, time ticking by slowly. Every second that passed stole a little more oxygen from the room. He was impossibly gorgeous with that dark hair and those intense midnight eyes. The plains of his face were hard and defined, lips full, and the dusting of silver hair at his temples begged for my fingertips. He had a good fifteen years on me, sure, but I had to wonder what it would be like to be with a man withexperience. In all areas, but specifically one. The guys I’d dated that were my age were fine, just…

Nothing to write home about.

I’d certainly never had someone look at me in such a way that made me want to be thrown against the wall and thoroughly fucked.

He licked his lips and my gaze fell to his mouth.

Sweet baby Jesus.

“Here’s your cafe americano, Mr. Reed.”

Leaning forward, practically caging me in place, he held my gaze as he retrieved his coffee. Still bent over me, he said, “Good luck on the job hunt, Ms. Blake.” Then he turned and strode away.

And I could breathe again without swooning.

“Jeeeeezus,” I whispered.

“Right?”

Turning around quickly, I met the barista’s gaze.

“Isn’t he something?” she asked dreamily.