Page 37 of #Bossholes

He’s sitting behind his desk, his feet propped up and crossed at the ankles. His suit jacket has been discarded, and his tie ishanging loose around his neck. He’s the epitome of relaxed while I’m so wound up, I’m likely to explode.

Wyatt, who should be working in his own office, is across from him, lounging in a leather chair like he’s at the beach.

“Can I help you?” My clothes are slightly wet, and I can only hope my shirt isn’t see-through. Still, I cross my arms.

Maverick's lips curl into a smirk, giving me an almost predatory look, and I find myself taking a small step back. “I see you managed to dry off.”

“Marginally.”

“Excellent.” Wyatt laces his hands behind his head, his dress shirt pulling across his chest momentarily distracting me. “I’d hate to think you were sitting in your office damp.”

“Nope.” I blow out a breath, hiking my purse high on my shoulder. “I’m good as new.”

Maverick’s chuckle is low, deep, and has my core clenching. “Interesting choice of words.”

Is it? Before I can ask him what he means, Wyatt smiles, nearly bringing me to my knees. I don’t think I’ve seen him or Brantley smile, and now I know why. It’s potent. Dangerous. Hazardous to my wellbeing. “I need you to book dinner reservations for five at Druisie and Darr. There will be six of us.”

I pull my phone from my purse, unlocking it, and glance back his way. “What day?”

His eyes flash with something I can’t quite decipher, and his smile widens. “Tomorrow. We’re celebrating a big win with a couple of the senior associates.”

I’m not familiar with the restaurant, but as soon as I bring it up in my search bar, I nearly have a heart attack. It’s in the Hermitage. There’s no freaking way I can make this reservation. I’d rather hurl myself from a cliff than run into my bosses on my way to lose my virginity.

No way.

No way in hell.

Could you imagine if they caught me after the act walking back to my car? What if my clothes get ripped? Or stolen? What if my hair is a mess? What if it is crystal clear what I just did? Can you smell sex? Would they know?

Of course, they would. These guys are fifteen years older than me with years and years of experience.

They would know.

And then I wouldn’t be able to show my face in the office again.

“This place looks a little…stuffy.” I scrunch my nose, swiping through several amazing pictures of food. It’s definitely fancy, and I have no idea what to suggest as an alternative, but I’m desperate. “Wouldn’t you rather go somewhere more fun? More relaxed?”

Maverick huffs a laugh, his feet swinging from his desk top as he straightens. “Are you saying this place is pretentious? I think we’re being insulted, Wyatt.”

“No…no. I don’t mean?—”

“What do you suggest?” Wyatt quirks a brow, the smile gone from his face. “Dave and Busters? A bowling alley?”

I shift, picking at the bottom of my blouse. “Either would be more fun.”

“Have you met my brother?”

Good point. I can’t imagine Brantley in a pair of bowling shoes. Or relaxed. Or laughing.

“Druisie and Darr. Five PM. Tomorrow.” Wyatt gives me a pointed look, one that definitely says his decision is final.

I cringe with my entire body, my soul. I’m so screwed, and I don’t mean literally.

My three bosses are going to be at the hotel eating a perfect freaking dinner while I’m having sex for the first time. We will be in the same building. At the same time.

I need help.

TWENTY-ONE

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