Page 5 of Boss of Me
What else do you call a guy who lets a woman think he’s someone else?
I’ve been deceiving Marlowe for the past ten minutes, and there’s absolutely no excuse for that.
But in my defense, I didn’t ask for any of this. I was sitting here minding my own business when one of the hottest babes I’ve ever seen walks right up to me, introduces herself and parks her sweet ass at my table.
What was I supposed to do? Tell her she’s got the wrong guy? Tell her to get lost?
Out of the fucking question.
Her last words hang between us, both a challenge and an invitation.I guess that’s for me to know . . . and you to find out.
Holy hell.
“So, Dawson,” she says casually, “how do you like working in finance?”
I don’t know how much she already knows about her blind date. I’m afraid to say the wrong thing and blow my cover. The less I reveal about myself, the better.
“It’s cool,” I answer with a smooth shrug. “Nothing exciting.”
She nods, running a manicured finger around the rim of her glass. Glossy dark hair frames a perfectly oval face with bright hazel eyes, a slim upturned nose and plump pink lips that have me thinking the filthiest thoughts.
Those lips are moving again, forming another question. “How long have you worked at Deloitte?”
“Long enough,” I say with a wink.
Her thick-lashed eyes twinkle at me.
“What?” I murmur.
“Nothing. It’s just . . . you’re not what I was expecting.”
I give her a lazy smile. “What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.”
“Liar.”
Her throaty laugh sends heat curling through my veins.
“Okay, okay,” she relents. “Maybe I was expecting someone a little . . .”
“Boring? Pasty? Pencil-necked?”
She laughs again, her eyes sparkling. “Fishing for compliments?”
“Maybe.”Fuck, she’s beautiful.“Do I exceed your expectations, Marlowe?”
“I think that’s a safe assumption.” The way she stares at my mouth makes my dick hard.Harder, I amend. Damn thing’s been practically saluting her ever since we locked eyes across the bar.
I watch as she picks up her glass and takes a sip of whiskey. I’ve never been more turned on by the sight of a woman swallowing.
“So what about you?” I ask, forcibly steering my mind back on track. “Do you enjoy your work?”
“Very much. I mean, it’s not something I’d want to do forever,” she admits. “But for my first job out of college, I really can’t complain.”
“What do you do?”Shit! Should I already know that?
Her smile puts me at ease. “I’m a data specialist. Basically, I maintain a database of festivals happening around the world.”
