The Virgin Intern

By: Penny Wylder

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I say, smiling into my glass.

“Definitely.” He unbuttons his shirt and takes it off before reaching for the glass, and even though I know I shouldn’t stare at him, I can’t look away. The v-neck T-shirt he’s still wearing is soaked through, and I can see everything. If there were wet T-shirt contests for men, he would win. Hands down. The man is cut like a diamond. I can count his abs through the shirt, and my eyes drift down to where it’s ridden up and showing skin that’s perfectly tan.

Suddenly I realize that I’m staring, and he knows it too, because he’s staring at me. He’s not smiling anymore. Instead he looks…curious. I feel myself blush from head to toe. Yes, I swear even my toes are flushed at the thought of what that body could do to me. My imaginings haven’t been doing him justice. I’ll need an upgrade.

I clear my throat and say, “I should go unpack, since we’ll be here for awhile.”

I don’t actually run, but it feels like it. I retreat into my pretty room, and attempt to take a breath. Cool down. I get my suitcase open and start sorting through the mess that I made this morning when I was late. I jump at the sound of a floorboard behind me, and turn to see Andrew at the door. He walks over to where I am, and I can feel his eyes on me. I try not to look, because if I look again I’ll stare, and the staring will lead to wanting. Instead, I start to talk.

“I know, this is totally a mess. I got really distracted this morning by this song, and then I ended up not having much time to pack.” I yank the suitcase over to the wall next to the armoire, and Andrew follows me. “Now I’ll have to organize everything. Re-fold, re-hang, re-wash, whatever. I’m not usually this disorganized.” I find my bag of toiletries in the wreckage of my suitcase and grab it. I turn to go and put it in the bathroom, and Andrew is there. “I should put this away,” I blurt, holding up the toiletries.

He stretches out his arms on either side of me, blocking the doorway with his perfect body. “It’s not a crime to look, Naomi.”

My eyes snap to his, really looking at them for the first time since we bumped into each other in the hallway. “I wasn’t.”

His mouth quirks up. “You were. I don’t mind. If I didn’t have other things on my mind I’d let you look at me all day.”

“What other things?” My mouth has gone entirely dry, and I find it hard to speak. He’s so close, and every nerve in my body is begging to find out what it would be like to have him touch me.

He leans forward until our faces are almost touching. “How much I want you. I told you in the copy room I would think about you. I did.”

Oh god. My heart is beating so fast now, I swear I can hear it pounding. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. I think I make some sort of sound though, because he smiles again. “What was that?”

“It’s not real. Not true, I mean. You have no reason to think about me.”

Our faces are still close, and his cheek presses against mine as his lips brush my ear. “I promise that when I am with you I will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And I want you.”

His words make me shiver. He takes a step back and peels his T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside. I let myself look at him. Like he said, it’s not a crime. His body reminds me of a surfer’s, long and lean with unexpected muscles and definition, all leading my eyes down to his belt. His face is all mischief as he moves back toward me. “Now that you’ve finally seen me without a shirt on, don’t you want to see the rest of me?”

The familiar feeling of my blush hits, and I don’t have time to answer because he kisses me. His lips aren’t on my mouth by next to it, barely a press against my skin. The sensation travels across me and leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“Naomi, tell me if you want me to stop.”

I swallow, find my voice. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Tell me what you want.” He pulls back to look into my eyes, and I am stunned by his gaze. His eyes are so blue, and I can see the earnestness pouring out of them.

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