STEP BY STEP by Clarissa Black Read Free Book Online

keyboard as I fired
back a response.

 
 
 
    Mirabelle,

 
    I’m
never “off the clock”. You forget that I own the place? If you need something,
come in my office. You’ve never hesitated to barge in here before.

 
    Mr. Woodfield

 
 
 
    I hovered over the send button for a few
second, half-debating whether or not I’d been too harsh, before sending it. I
sat back in my seat and waited for her to enter, and within seconds, the door
slowly swung open.

 
    “Yes, Mirabelle,” I said, annoyed that
she was being so apprehensive around me. Where was the take-charge girl I’d
caught a glimpse of that morning? The one who was so sure of herself? The one
who owned her intelligence? Oh, yeah, I’d destroyed her with one sentence.

 
    She stepped towards my desk, her tan
slacks hugging every curve of her thighs, and stopped just short of one of the
leather chairs.

 
    “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she
said. She wouldn’t look at me. “I’ve been racking my brain all day. I talked to
some other employees here. I talked to a couple interns.”

 
    “You consulted with other interns?” I
balked.

 
    “I really feel that the marketing plan I
presented this morning, the one I’ve been working on all week, is the best
one,” she said. Her gaze turned up to meet mine as I stood from my desk. She
had a lot of nerve telling her boss she wasn’t going to do what he’d asked. “Do
you mind if we just wait to hear back from them before I try to revamp this
thing?”

 
    She bit her lip, perhaps a nervous twitch
of hers since childhood, and waited for my response. Never in my five years of
owning the firm had an intern dictated to me what they would and wouldn’t do.

 
    I studied her face as I forced her to
wait for my response. I didn’t want her thinking I was giving in too easily.
That wasn’t my style, and I rarely made exceptions. While I forced the long
pause, my eyes took in every curve and amble of her body. The way her jacket
cinched in at just the right part of her waist and the way her pants hugged her
hips and thighs were enough to make me want to throw her on the table right
then and there.

 
    “That’s fine,” I replied, adding a little
extra annoyance to my tone. “Just this once, Mirabelle. Going forward, you are
to do as I tell you to do. You understand that?”

 
    A relieved smile crossed her lips. “Yes.”

 
    As relief washed over her, her body
relaxed a little and her face lit up the way it usually did when she was in her
element. I of all people knew what deadlines did to a person’s creativity. I
should’ve known better than to stifle her creative juices so abruptly.

 
    In the dimness of my office, with the
sunset casting a warm glow on us and Mirabelle standing there
so full of passion and fire and eagerness to please, I couldn’t help
myself any longer. Maybe I was a damn, weak fool for thinking I should do it,
but something in me had to have her.

 
    I moved closer to her as she stood there,
eyes locked into mine desperately seeking approval, and placed my mouth onto
hers. Much to my relief, her full, pillow-soft lips kissed me back.

 
    My hands slipped down around her hips,
pulling her towards me as her lips parted to make way for my tongue. My hand
moved up, just below her jawline as I kissed her passionately, hungrily. She
wasn’t my kid stepsister. She was a beautiful, sexy, smart woman, and I wanted
her.

 
    In the flash of my mind’s eyes, I’d
remembered a night, ten years ago. I’d come home drunk from a party and stumbled
into the living room where 13 year old Mirabelle was
waiting up for me, worried. She cared so much about me, and I never knew why. I
treated her like shit. She covered me up with a blanket, got me water and a
snack and then stared at me like a schoolgirl with a crush. In a half-drunken,
half-asleep state, she kissed me. And against my better judgment, I kissed her
back. The next day our parents