The Intern

22

I reached for my coffee, needing something to put out this fire, and when I went to take a sip, I realized the mug was empty. I gripped the ceramic in my hand and stood, heading for the door.

“Declan …”

Her voice.

It never stopped.

It just echoed.

I paused in the doorway and faced her. “What?”

“I can get that for you.” She nodded toward the mug. “A cup of coffee, I mean.” She held out her hand even though she was still on the other side of the room. “Give it to me; I’ll do it.”

She’d done enough.

My f*****g d**k was hard.

Unless she planned to get on her knees and open her mouth, I needed her to stay put.

“I’m good,” I told her, and I went into the kitchen.

I filled the mug and took a long drink of the strong, bitter black brew.

As I went back to my office, I stalled in the doorway, watching Hannah on her knees in front of the cabinet. The fabric of her dress was tight across her ass, showing the outline of her thong.

She glanced over her shoulder, catching me staring. “Everything all right?” She waited. “Do you need something?”

So giving.

Attentive.

All it did was make me angrier.

“I need you to finish that filing,” I barked. “I have weeks’ worth of work to catch up on, and I need access to those cases.”

“I’ll move faster.”

As I neared my desk, she rose from the floor and must have gotten up too fast because she wavered on her heels, her arms shooting out at her sides as she attempted to gain her balance.

I didn’t know if she was going to fall, but I surely wasn’t going to let that happen.

With one hand still gripping my mug, I wrapped the other arm around her back and hauled her up against my body to steady her.

My c**k instantly pounded inside my suit pants.

My heart f*****g exploded as she molded against me.

As she glanced up, her lips wet and open, her eyes wide, it took everything in my power not to brush the hair out of her face.

Not to grab the back of her neck and smash our lips together.

Not to place her on my desk and thrust my face up her dress.

What the f**k is wrong with me?

“Thank you … for catching me.” She was breathless. Her expression spent, like I’d just finished giving her an orgasm.

I swallowed. “You need to watch where you’re going.”

Those words didn’t even make sense.

I didn’t care.

“Right. Sorry … again.”

My arm dropped, and I backed up until I reached my desk, placing the coffee on top of it.

When I glanced across the space, she was digging into the box to add more files to the cabinet, the dress now high in the back, showing her gorgeous legs.

Legs I wanted wrapped around my face.

I needed to focus.

Not on her.

I opened the top drawer of my desk to grab a legal pad, so I could jot down some notes on a client, and her thong was sitting inside it. The one I’d found in my suit pocket on the day I started at the firm, that I’d set in here because I didn’t want to carry it around all day.

I shut the drawer, shoving my hands through my hair to stop them from shaking.

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t look at her every day, remembering what had happened and what I wanted to happen again.

I needed to get the f**k out of here.

“Do you want me to organize the Drake folders when I’m done?”

I stopped at the sound of her voice, turning toward her when I reached the doorway.

Drake was a client of Ford’s—a case that I should be working on now.

“Why would you do that?” I asked.

“It’s a lot of information, and your paralegal is sorting through mountains of—”

“Just focus on the filing.” The frustration was making its way into my skin. I could feel myself starting to sweat. “I’ll give you your next assignment once you’re done.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Boss … f**k.

Followed by a smile that was far too satisfying on her gorgeous face.

This wasn’t okay.

I couldn’t have her.

And that wasn’t okay either.

My clients needed my full attention.

They needed me at my best.

And for three days, I’d done nothing but fantasize about her.

“I’ve—” I cut myself off, staring at her, wondering what the hell to say. “I’ve got to go talk to Dominick.”

I headed toward the opposite end of the floor. Dominick’s door was open when I arrived at his office, and fortunately, Jenner and Ford were sitting in there with him.

I went in and closed his door behind me, taking the only open seat.

“Everything all right, Declan?” Dominick asked. “You look … on edge.”

“I need a new intern.”

Dominick laughed. “For what reason?”

What the hell can I say to them?

“She’s your cousin. She’s probably going to become a partner here. I don’t want that kind of pressure. You know me; I do things unconventionally. I’m reckless. I’m unethical at times, immoral even. Having her learn from me”—I shook my head, thinking of all the upcoming one-on-one time I’d have with her—“is a bad f*****g idea. I’m no role model, Dominick.”

“You’re the top litigator in the state for a reason,” Ford said. “Why the hell wouldn’t we want you mentoring our cousin?”

They weren’t buying my bullshit.

I needed to be more persuasive.

“Listen, I’m just not the right person. You’ve got a whole department of litigators. You’ve got Christopher Allen, who’s excellent.”

They knew I’d never call him that. Christopher was far from excellent. He lacked balls and charm, and I could destroy him without even saying a word.

“He follows the book; he’d be perfect to mold and coddle her. This isn’t what I do. I produce evidence, I defend, I raise hell in court.” I glanced around at all three of them. “I don’t mentor … I just f*****g don’t.”

Jenner folded his hands on his lap. “You’re not the typical mentor—I won’t deny that fact. Patience certainly isn’t your strong suit, but I want Hannah to learn from the best. I want her to see every angle of litigation—whether that’s straddling the line or going directly by the book. She’s one of the brightest women I know, and when it comes time for her to enter the courtroom, you’ll make sure she’s ready.”