Page 21 of Shifted Desire

8

Hells, what am I doing? I could’ve kept my mouth shut and finished up the interview. Pretended that HR would call her with an offer and then come up with an excuse why the role can’t be hers when my mind isn’t flooded with guilt and hunger and agitation.

The second she sat down across from me in that tight skirt, I knew this was a mistake.

At least at Shane and Elle’s house, there was a buffer of other people. Now we’re alone and the smell of the pancakes and coffee isn’t enough to drown out my desire to haul her over the desk, spread her thighs and run my nose over her pussy. Push her panties to the side and taste her again.

I’ve tried to clear my mind, but it refuses to cooperate, and now I’m blathering about something I didn’t want to bring up.

Samantha’s violet eyes narrow into harsh pinpricks. She uncrosses and crosses her legs, and my wolf slavers at the flash of her pale thighs.

“You don’t have to say it. I can feel you.”

Oh gods, of course she can. She’s part-succubus. Has she been able to tell the whole time and is just much better at ignoring it? Did she notice at dinner the other night?

I scrub a hand across my face with a pained sigh, hating this. Hating myself even though it isn’t my fault that we fucked. That was the cruel whim of random chance.

“It fucking figures.” She lets out a rueful laugh. “You’ve never shown a hint of interest, and now you’re hot for me? Is it because I’m desperate?”

“No, that’s not⁠—”

Samantha sneers. “I bet you’re thinking about me getting on my knees to show you how much I want this job. I’m a succubus after all, so I must be willing to use my body to get ahead.” She waves a hand at me flippantly. “Well, go on, unzip and let’s get this over with.”

Her taunt can’t disguise the raw hurt in her voice. Potent anger and disgust wash over me, taking me aback.

Those aren’t my emotions. They’re hers. She’s so upset that her powers are broadcasting her pain to me.

“Samantha, no. I don’t want that.”

She scoffs. “Sure seems like you do.”

“I…Fuck, I’m sorry. Yes, I want you. I can’t stop thinking about you, but it’s not because of this.” I make a sweeping gesture at the office.

“Then what? You finally want the thrill of fucking your friend’s daughter? That’s even worse. You can fuck me as many times as you want, but I’ll never be them.”

“What?” I blink at her, dumbfounded. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

She rolls her eyes, her cheeks flooding a bright, indignant red. “Seriously? Grow a pair and tell my parents how you feel, instead of getting me wrapped up in your shit.”

A low growl rumbles out of me at her sharp words, disliking that she’d think I wanted her for such a cowardly and twisted reason.

She gives me a dark smile. “Hit a nerve, did I?”

“No. I don’t want your parents. If I did, you’d already be calling me step-daddy. I didn’t wait forty years harboring a secret crush, and I certainly never thought about you until⁠—”

“Until what?” she snaps.

“If you’d stop interrupting me, I’d⁠—”

“Oh, don’t start with that condescending bullshit, I’m not⁠—”

“We fucked! There, are you happy? We fucked, and I didn’t know it was you, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

There’s a long silence, Samantha opening and closing her mouth a few times. I see the moment she understands as her confusion melts into horror.

“No. No way.” She pushes her chair back as if she needs more distance between us, then holds a hand up to block out the top of my face. “Fuck.” She scrambles out of her seat.

“Where are you going?” I call out, standing.