I was three months from twenty-one when I walked in for the interview. He was fifty-two. And it didn’t matter. I entered his office, our eyes met and we both knew. We knew he would offer me a position, I would accept it and the physical would follow. Words weren’t necessary, but we exchanged them anyway.
I sat across from him, a brown wood—real, not laminate—desk separating us. I crossed my legs in the beige leather chair and smoothed the skirt of the black Casual Corner suit my mother had bought me the week before. He leaned across the desk as I handed him my resume, brushing his fingertips against mine. Lightning.
He reviewed my qualifications and asked me the appropriate questions, but I didn’t hear. Not really. My body’s chants of desire drowned out everything but the tiniest fragment of my coherent and rational self. The chemistry and lust was so thick that, had people walked in, not only would their senses have been assaulted by the smell of sex, but they would have walked out reeking of it as well. I was just too young and inexperienced to realize it at the time.
With the interview complete, he escorted me on a tour of the building, guiding me with a hand to the elbow or shoulder. At its conclusion we stopped so he could point out further detail and he stood just slightly behind me and to the side. The heat was overwhelming. All I had to do was back up one tiny step and the ridge I could just make out under the pressed, lightweight khaki pants would be against me. I took a deep breath and removed my suit jacket instead.
The sharp intake of air must have triggered him to my thoughts because he stepped to the side, raked his eyes over my face, pausing at my lips then continued down my throat and stopped. By removing the jacket I had revealed something else. And the heat had made them cold. I felt a peculiar combination of weakness and power. Weakness because my body had betrayed my want for him. Power because he wanted me. I lifted my chin and waited for him to raise his eyes.
“Well then,” he said, gray eyes piercing my green ones a pleased smirk on his face, “I’ll call you with a decision.”
“Yes, you will,” I agreed, with an equally smug expression.