"Your parents know about us? I thought you said they didn't—"
"My dad figured it out."
Slowly, Jordan puts the car back into park and kills the engine. His eyes search mine, and I can tell he’s trying to mask it, but he’s rattled. I can see the flickers of panic beneath his calm exterior.
"And he wants to meet me?"
I roll my eyes. "He's already met you, silly."
Exactly. As his boss. Not as his daughter's boyfriend.
I nod. "True, which means he's willing to trust you with me."
"Or that he wants to bury me in your backyard." He laughs, but there's no humor in it. He runs both hands through his hair, gripping the back of his neck. "Christ. Your parents must think I'm the creep who’s been sneaking around with his daughter.”
“We haven’t been sneaking,” I lie.
“Sabrina.”
I sigh. “Okay. Light sneaking.”
He keeps his eyes on mine, even though I can see how much it costs him. "Your father is going to look at me and see a predator."
What?"Jordan—" I unbuckle my seatbelt.
"What are you doing?"
Instead of answering, I slide across the center console and climb into his lap. His eyes go wide as I settle there, my knees bracketing his thighs.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, hands hovering like he doesn’t know where to touch me.
“You’re not a predator,” I say, pressing my forehead to his. "You didn’t take advantage of me, Jordan. You protected me."
"Did I? Or did I just lie to myself so I could fall for you anyway?"
"You waited," I roll my hips once, and feel his length jump beneath me. "You held the line even when I didn’t. I tried everything. I begged, I cried, I even showed up to your house in nothing but a coat."
"Don’t remind me." He groans, head falling back. "I almost had a stroke that night."
"I've never seen you so angry. You immediately sent me back home. That's not predatory. That's honorable." I roll my hips again, and his fingers tighten on my hips.
"Fuck—Sabrina, stop—" But his hips buck up involuntarily, contradicting his words.
"Why?" I grind down against him. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong," he grits out, "is that we're in a parking lot—"
"It's dark."
"Someone could still see—Christ!" His breath hitches when I start rolling my hips in slow circles.
"I need you," I whisper, leaning in to bite his earlobe. "I need you inside me. Need to feel you lose control. Please, Jordan."
His hand comes up to tangle in my hair, yanking my head back so he can look at me. His eyes are wild. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
"Show me," I challenge.
For one desperate, electric moment, I see him cave. His grip tightens in my hair and his other hand slides up under my skirt to grip my ass. He pulls me down hard against him at the same time he surges up. The friction is so perfect, I want to sob.
