Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1)(60)



But I’d trusted her with everything.

Her tone brought my attention back to reality. There was a sharpness to her voice. We had a meeting in about ten minutes, but she was talking to someone in the conference room. It sounded like Damian Fillsburg, head of sales.

“Mr. Calloway needs those figures by Monday.”

“By when?” Damian sounded distracted, like he was only half-listening to her.

“I’m standing right here, Damian,” she said. “So I’m sure you heard me say Monday. Just as it said in the email I sent.”

I peeked around the partially open door. Damian stood in front of her, eyes on his phone. She had her arms crossed around a stack of blue folders. I could practically feel the irritation coming off her. Not that I blamed her. Damian was fairly new and his arrogance was already grating on me.

He looked up as if only just now noticing she was there. “You can just fudge something for me, right? Make me look good for the boss-man?”

Everly pressed her lips together as she shook her head. “No, I can’t fudge something for you.”

“Everly, help a guy out here,” he said, tilting his head. He took a step closer. “How about this. Come to dinner with me on Friday and we can work on it together.”

A bolt of anger flashed through me. How dare he hit on my woman. I was about to step in and fire the fucker, but Everly didn’t miss a beat.

She clicked her tongue. “I’m sorry to hear that, Damian.”

“Sorry to hear what?”

“That Autumn broke up with you. Autumn was your girlfriend’s name, right? The one with pretty blond hair, wore a sundress to the company picnic? In fact, didn’t you propose to her a few months ago? It’s too bad it ended.”

“Wait, what? No. I mean, Autumn is her name, but we didn’t… What are you talking about?”

“Well, you just rather inappropriately asked me to dinner, which I assume means you and Autumn broke up. Or did I misunderstand what you were asking?”

“No, I didn’t mean…” Damian fumbled for words. “We didn’t break up.”

“Oh, I see,” Everly said. “So you weren’t asking me to dinner, because of course you wouldn’t cheat on your lovely fiancée.”

“No, of course not.”

“So you also didn’t just ask me to falsify data in the sales reports. I must have misunderstood that too.”

He stared at her, open-mouthed, for a few seconds. “Right, no. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I didn’t think so,” she said with a friendly smile. “So how about you have those reports to me by Friday instead of Monday, just so I can make sure everything is accurate and ready on time.”

“Uh, yeah, Friday.” He straightened, flashing a fake smile, as if he could possibly recover his dignity. “Sales reports will be in your inbox.”

“Excellent. Thanks, Damian,” she said.

I stepped into the conference room. Damian didn’t make eye contact with me as he left.

Everly started placing a blue folder in front of each chair. “You’re early.”

She was right. I was. But she hadn’t been at her desk. Her pull was like gravity to me. I’d come down to the conference room early because I figured she’d be here.

“I know.” I looked her up and down, enjoying the way her yellow dress showed off her curves. But it wasn’t her gorgeous body that was impressing me right now. “You really put Damian in his place.”

Glancing at me from the corner of her eye, she set another folder down. “You heard that?”

“Some of it.”

She gave me a little shrug. “He thinks he can push people’s boundaries and get away with it. I’m happy to disabuse him of that notion.”

“You’re something else, Miss Dalton.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Calloway.”

I wanted to do a hundred dirty things to her on that conference table. Bend her over and hike up that pretty dress. Finger fuck her until she was wet, then sink my cock in deep. I could lay her down and bury my face between her legs. Lick her beautiful pussy until she came in my mouth.

Someone walked in behind me, once again snapping me back to reality. I was doing far too much fantasizing lately. But I couldn’t help it. This woman was consuming me.

The development team filed in and took their seats. I sat next to Everly, casually letting my leg brush against hers while we listened to the presentation.

Above the table, we were all business. Below, I slid my hand along her leg. Her face didn’t show even a hint of a reaction—at least not that I could see—but she gently tipped her legs apart. It made my heart pound, my blood running hot. I barely resisted the urge to lean in and breathe the strawberry scent of her hair. I couldn’t reach much without moving closer to her, so I settled for caressing the soft skin of her thigh.

Without losing her attentive posture, she gently nudged her pen off the table with her elbow. Her eyes flicked to me and she gave an apologetic shrug before leaning over to pick it up.

On her way down, she swiped her hand over my dick. Instead of reaching for her pen, she grabbed my cock through my slacks and gave it a good, firm squeeze.

I grunted at the pressure—holy fuck, that felt good—then cleared my throat to cover. Everly sat up, set her pen on the table, and went back to her note-taking.

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