Page 19 of His Off-Limits Christmas Gift

The long, lazy look he gave me had me wondering what he envisioned. When he said he wanted to teach me, was he talking about rehearsing pickup lines? When he insisted on being my mentor, did he mean guiding me through the bases? Demonstrating things… physically?

My skin felt too tight, and once more, I felt the damning warmth of a blush spreading up my cheeks.

“What do you want out of this supposed deal?” I asked. My voice was breathy, and I didn’t try to repeat myself with a clearer, more professional and no-nonsense tone. Professionalism had left the chat the moment I told him I was a virgin.

I’d been so determined not to think about him, not to dwell on what seemed to be instant attraction between us. Yet, here we were, talking about a naughty sort of tutoring and mentoring to make me less clueless about finding a man.

“I’ll teach you how to find a man who can pleasure you,” he said slowly, “and you can be my plus-one at the party I am not looking forward to.”

He watched me, not saying a word. I waited. Then I waited some more. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he confirmed.

“Wait. I’m not sure I’m hearing this right. You are offering to be my mentor about getting a guy—which is totally, irrevocably inappropriate to begin with since you’re my boss?—”

“And your brother’s friend,” he added. “Completely inappropriate.”

Well, we’re on the same page there.

“And all you want in return for, uh, that service, is my presence as your plus-one to the company’s holiday party?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“That’sit?” I scrunched my face, wondering where the catch was.

“Yes.” He leaned closer over the table. “Were you hoping to offer me something else?”

Now that he’d said it, so many filthy, naked things filtered through my mind’s eye.

I licked my lips and fanned my napkin at my face. “Does your mentoring abilities include teaching me how to avoid blushing like this when a man says something… like that?”

He grinned, slow and sexy, like he was having the time of his life. Like the devil, wicked and naughty. “Your blush fascinates me.”

“If you say it makes meadorable…” I warned, narrowing my eyes.

“No. I know better than to call you adorable. That’s TDAH’s mistake, not mine.”

“You don’t think I’m adorable?”

“I think you’re sexy, Rachel.” He smiled wider, raking his hungry gaze over me again. “Gorgeous. Alluring. Tempting. Not adorable.”

Oh, shit.He was going to make my panties wet at this rate. It wasn’t just the fact that I was hearing a man tell me these things. It was the utter conviction that shone on his face as he said them, as if he truly believed them.

“Your blush is pretty,” he clarified. “It’s the sort of reaction that shows me how much I affect you. How much my words affect you.”

I laughed nervously. Once.You’re affecting me, all right.

“That blush,” he said as he cleared his throat and shifted his weight in his seat, “makes me curious how far it spreads down your?—”

“Okay. Okay.” I held up my hand again to silence him as I gulped water. “Slow down.”

He chuckled as I recovered and tried to cool down. It was taboo to think of him inappropriately, but to know that he was doing it as well felt risqué.

“But yes, Rachel. All I ask is that you’ll be my plus-one to the party.”

“I’m just surprised that you wouldn’t have a date already.”

“I told you. I haven’t been emotionally or romantically available for six years.”

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