I have no idea what to order him for lunch.

I’ve been around Mr. Carver a few times, but never enough to pay attention to what he eats.

Men like meat and sandwiches, I suppose. I decide to order him a club and fries. I opt for a burger. My stomach grumbles a little at the thought. I’m freaking starving. I was too nervous to eat breakfast.

I want to do my best to make a good impression here.

If I do well, maybe they’ll offer me a job when I graduate. A low, entry-level job, but it would be an awesome start.

Carver Global would be an amazing company to work for.

I sit in his office and watch him devour the sandwich while I pick at my burger. Apparently, I chose well. I can’t help but be intrigued by the man in the suit.

He lets his guard down, and laughs. Ketchup drips down his chin. Without thinking, I take a napkin and wipe it away.

When he smiles, my heart drums in my chest.

His hand reaches out and covers mine. “This was perfect. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You do this every day, I may have to keep you around permanently.”

His tone is light, but his stare smolders me. God, he looks like he could throw me over the desk and do unspeakable things to me. Every time he talks—Jesus. He’s powerful, experienced, charming—and just too fucking hot for words.

* * *

I step out of the shower, and my body welcomes the cool air. Today couldn’t have gone better. I spent most of it running errands for Mr. Carver. I really should call him Tom like he requested. It’s just that I’ve always known him as Hannah’s dad.

He’s the president of a multi-billion-dollar company. Calling him by his first name seems so—I don’t know—informal or insulting. Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing. My mind does that sometimes. But the man just oozes power and sophistication. I’ve never seen a more gorgeous man for his age. He could be a model for Dior.

Thinking about how he looked in his office today, how he looked at me, it sends a tingling sensation between my thighs. I could swear a few times when he looked at me, there was something between us.

I shouldn’t think about him like this, but I can’t stop myself.

The man is fine.

A real silver fox. His eyes are steely grey and penetrate my core like armor-piercing rounds. And his smile—fuck, his smile.

I walk over to my door and crack it open, barely. I don’t think he’s home from work yet.

I stroll over to my nightstand, open the top drawer, and pull out my B.O.B.

I can’t get Tom’s searing eyes out of my mind, and I need to release this tension before it destroys me.

Biting my lip, I drop my towel and lie down on the bed.

My fingers trail over my breasts, caressing my nipples, imagining my hands are his.

It’s not the first time I’ve gotten off to the thought of Tom Carver. It’s even more intense now, knowing I’m staying at his apartment. It’s like his presence is all around me. He’s been in this room, probably sat on this bed. He could be home any time.

The first time I met him was a party at their house in the Hamptons. We arrived early, and he was out by the pool. He definitely works out and takes care of himself. He’s muscular but not overly thick. He has a trim build, like a swimmer’s frame, and that damn vee that cuts down below his shorts. It took everything I had not to gawk with my mouth wide open.

Arching my back and spreading my thighs, I circle my fingers over my clit. My body burns with need. There’s an ache between my legs that only thoughts of Tom can heal.

It’s too bad I can’t have him.

Spreading my fingers through my slick folds, my pussy is ready for B.O.B. to do his job.

I power him on and glide him inside while fantasizing about my new boss—my best friend’s dad.

I work it in and out, the entire time imagining it’s Tom’s thick cock pumping in and out of me.

I’ve fooled around before, and I have B.O.B., but I’ve never been with a man.

I came close with my ex, but found out he was cheating on me. It was actually a relief, even though I cried myself to sleep for a week. Thank God I didn’t give him what he wanted before I found out.

I’m saving myself for someone I can trust.

A man who knows what I need and won’t shatter my heart into a million pieces.

A man like Tom Carver.

I’m so close to finding my release when I hear a door close. I yank the covers up over my body.

“Rose? You eat dinner yet?”

Oh my God.

B.O.B.’s vibrations and the sound of his voice sends me over the edge, and my eyes roll up in my head.

A knock on my door sends it wide open.

I freeze, legs spread on my bed, completely exposed beneath the covers, and in walks the man I can’t stop thinking about.

The orgasm rolls through my body, which moves on its own accord. My hips buck as his eyes narrow on me.

There’s no way he doesn’t see what I’m doing. Well, what I was doing.

Jesus, I could die right here on the spot, but it feels so fucking good.

Tom doesn’t move or speak, but a tiny muscle jumps in his cheek, and his chest heaves and falls with each breath. He’s lost the jacket of his suit. His button-down stretches tight across his broad chest, tie loosened around his neck. His hungry eyes sear into me.

What the hell am I going to do?

Does he know I was thinking about him? Does he know I want nothing more than for him to close the distance between us and fuck me?