STEP BY STEP (7 page)

“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 announced their separation, and my father and I
moved out of their house. It was the last time I’d ever seen Mirabelle, and I
pretended not to notice the tears streaming down her face as we hauled boxes
out to the moving van.

Without warning, Mirabelle pulled away.
Her eyes both scared and wanting at the same time. I’d seen that look once
before…

“I-I’m tired,” she stammered as she paced
backwards towards the door. “I haven’t slept in days. I-I should go.”

MIRABELLE

I nearly tripped on my own feet as I
stumbled out of his office, my lips still warm from his kiss. I hadn’t seen it
coming, which was odd for me. Normally I see everything coming from a mile
away. Not that. I’d seen Preston look at me before, but he looked at me
differently just then.

Part of me wondered if he remembered the
kiss we shared that night when he came home drunk from a party. I kissed him. I
figured he wouldn’t remember. He was drunk after all. But he kissed me back,
whether or not he realized it in his drunken stupor.

I’d never seen such hunger in a man’s
eyes until that moment, kissing in his office. His need to kiss me was almost
animalistic, and in a moment of sheer weakness I kissed him back. I couldn’t
believe I’d done that.

My cheeks burned hot as I gathered my
things and tried to get out of the office as quickly as I could. Monica’s words
from earlier about not blurring lines echoed through my head. Was that what he
did to Sapphire Hart? Did he kiss her the way he kissed me? Did he keep her
close? Control her? Give her impossibly high expectations and then kick her to
the curb the moment she couldn’t satisfy his needs any longer?

I threw my purse over my shoulder and
locked up my office, my heels clicking towards the elevator and my mind
desperately hoping I wouldn’t run into him on my way out.

Why
did I have to kiss him back?
I kicked myself, repeatedly, as the elevator carried me down to the main floor.
I’d been kissed before, but never like that. The thought of his hands on my
body while his lips pressed hungrily against mine sent a jolt of electricity
through my body. His kiss lit me on fire, whether or not I chose to accept
that.

There was something about being desired
by someone like Preston that set my soul on fire. He was undeniably attractive,
as much as I tried to ignore that, and impossibly rich. He was one of the most
powerful advertising executives in the country. He could have anything he
wanted. He could have anyone he wanted. And he chose me.

***

“Good morning, Mirabelle,” Ruthie said
the following day as I scurried into my office. I hoped to go unnoticed. I
wasn’t ready to look Preston in the eye just yet. I went to bed thinking about
that kiss, and much to my dismay, I woke up thinking about it too. I could
practically still feel it.

I plopped down at my desk chair and fired
up my computer, thankful and relieved for not running into him. I couldn’t
concentrate that morning, and I could barely dress myself.
 
My pink blouse was slightly wrinkled,
and my pants were a size too tight, which was evidenced by the way they clung
to my behind a little too much. At least I’d taken the time to slip on my
single diamond pendant. It dipped to a point just above my cleavage as if it
were almost an invitation to stare at my chest. My grandmother, who’d gifted it
to me before she passed, would be rolling in her grave if she saw how low my
blouse was that day. I couldn’t help it. Being
well-endowed
in the chest department left very little options for conservative clothing.

The phone on my desk began to ring,
startling the coffee cup I’d held up to my lips out of my hands. Hot coffee
spilled down my pink blouse, leaving a disgusting trail of brown liquid.

“Hello,” I said into the receiver,
exasperated.

“Mirabelle.” It was
him
.
Of course it was. “I need you to come into my office.”

“Um,” I stalled. “I’m kind of indisposed
right now.”

“Indisposed?” he echoed.

The warm coffee that glued my blouse to
my skin was beginning to cool, leaving a sickeningly gross sensation on my
skin. I was going to have to figure out a way to get out of there, run home,
and change clothes, without anyone noticing.

“Can I meet you in an hour?” I asked.

“An hour? No, no,” he said. “We need to
talk now.”

“I can’t,” I said to him. I didn’t want
him to see me looking like a drowned rat. I secretly loved that he found me
attractive, as confusing as that was, and I’d have been mortified for him to
see me looking less than put together.

“You’re acting weird,” he said. I paused;
not knowing what to say, and then I heard the click of his receiver as he hung
up.

Relieved that I’d bought myself a little
time, I stood up and grabbed my purse. The second I reached for my door handle
to leave my office, I felt a little resistance on the other side. As I pulled
the door open, Mr.
Woodfield
was standing opposite
me, his hand also gripped on the doorknob.

His eyes scanned me up and down, resting
for a moment on my soaking blouse that was practically see through at that
point.

Suddenly vulnerable, I crossed my arms
across my chest and took a step back. “I need to run home and change.”

He stepped into my office, shutting the
door behind him. He had that hungry, insatiable look in his eyes again.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice
meek and unsure.

He stepped closer towards me, reaching
his hand over to grab my delicate wrist and to pull me into him. His eyes
locked into mine, he unbuttoned my blouse, one button at a time. Standing in
his space, breathing him in, it took everything I had not to completely submit
to him.

When my blouse was fully unbuttoned, he
slid it off, pulling it softly down my shoulders and inadvertently tickling a
trail with his fingertips in the process. I closed my eyes, half wanting him to
kiss me again like he did the night before, but have chiding myself for being
so unprofessional and inappropriate.

Standing before him, shirtless and at his
mercy, I saw something different in his eyes. I watched as he reached over to a
closet behind the door. I’d seen it before, but I never bothered using it. I
didn’t have much to put in my office yet, and since I was only going to be here
a few months, I didn’t want to make myself too much at home.

“Here,” he said. He pulled out a silk,
Aztec-print blouse that had been hanging on a hanger in the closet. “Put this
on.”

I grabbed it, holding it out in front of
me. It was a size 6, perfect for me, and I slipped it on. The soft, silk felt
wonderful against my skin, and I could tell it wasn’t a cheap top.

I opened my lips to ask him where it came
from, but then I remembered. We were in Sapphire Hart’s old office. That was
her old closet. I was standing there in her old shirt.

“Thank you,” I said. I smoothed the
blouse into place, grateful that it went with my tan slacks, and tried to
collect myself in his powerful presence. Seeing a softer side of him gave me
hope: hope that maybe he wasn’t such a controlling asshole all of the time.

“So you needed me?”
 
I asked, trying to pretend that that
hadn’t just happened.

“Yes,” he said with pause in his voice as
his icy blue eyes studied mine. “We need to talk about last night.”

“Last night?” I played dumb, but I knew
exactly what he meant.

“The kiss…” he said. His brows furrowed
as he licked his lips and stared deep into my eyes. He cleared his throat and
pressed his hands into his hips, trying to stifle something. He seemed
conflicted.

“Oh, the kiss,” I echoed, trying to act
casual and hide the fact that it was all I could think about. “What about it?”

“Perhaps I was a little less than
professional,” he said. “I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression.”

I shook my head. “Let’s just pretend it
didn’t happen.”

He paused again, staring at me, trying to
read me. “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

My heart fluttered. Preston
Woodfield
wanted me. He really wanted me. And he was
standing there admitting it.
The jerk, older stepbrother who
never gave me the time of day.
The boss who told me I was amazing but
still not good enough. He wanted me.

“It’s all I’ve thought about,” he said.
He tossed his head back as if it was an inconvenience to think about me so
much. “Damn it,
Miri
.”

Miri
was his nickname for me once upon a time,
and hearing him call me that warmed me over in an instant.

He walked past me and headed towards the
floor to ceiling windows behind my desk, bracing himself on the window ledge
and peering down onto the city sidewalk below us.

Standing there in his navy suit with his
skinny black tie and his brown hair slicked to the side so perfectly, I
couldn’t ignore the twinge of attraction I felt towards him that was burning
inside me brighter than ever before.

“I’ve thought about it a lot too,” I
admitted. “If we’re being completely honest…”

He turned around to face me, revealing
the tiniest hint of relief upon hearing my words. Within seconds, he’d flown
across the room, back into my space. His hands gripping my ripe behind while
his lips pressed hard into mine once again. The air was charged and something
had taken over Preston once again. I was powerless in his presence and he was
uncontrollable in mine.

His hands worked their way up and under
my blouse as they fondled my swollen breasts and worked feverishly to unhook my
bra. With his lips peppering soft kisses all over my neck, I reached down to
unbuckle his pants and release his throbbing cock from the confines of his
designer boxer briefs.

“
Miri
,” his
husky voice whispered. I loved the way my voice fell from his lips, so
intentional, so wanting. He pulled me over to my desk, turning my body away
from his and placing my hands flat on the desktop. He slid my pants down,
followed by my panties, and let the flesh of my curves fill his hands.