Junk Mail(54)

“I love you too, Peyton.”

As we fall into bed, Josh still in his tux and me in nothing but my lacy white panties and bra, I pull back momentarily from his kiss to pose the question that’s been on my mind for some time now.

“Babe? When we have kids, how are we going to tell them we met?”

Josh snickers, then pauses to give it some serious thought. “I guess we should probably leave out the part where I accidentally sent you a picture of my dick, right?”

“No shit.” I laugh, pressing a kiss against the line of his jaw. “I suppose we could just say we met at work, right?”

“Well, I’m not sure that would make us sound very professional, now would it?”

Josh squeezes my side and we both erupt into laughter again. We spend the next ten minutes offering up different phallic excuses, saying we bumped into each other buying bananas at the grocery store or at a Mets game waiting in line for hot dogs.

After plenty of giggles, Josh finally snaps his fingers, a devilish look in his eyes.

“I’ve got it,” he says with a wicked smile. “We’ll just tell them a message from me popped up in your junk mail.”

? ? ?

I hoped you enjoyed Josh & Peyton’s story! Up next is a decidedly steamy book called THE TWO-WEEK ARRANGEMENT with some majorly angsty vibes. Dominic Aspen is a grumpy-pants CEO single dad to twin little girls, who has zero time or inclination for a flirtation with his girl-next-door intern, Presley. But she’s never been very good at following instructions. Read an exclusive sneak preview on the next page.





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“You don’t have to be uncomfortable.”

She nearly jumps at the sound of my voice.

Nice work, Dom.

“Don’t I?” Presley asks, laughing softly.

“I understand if you are.”

“No, I . . . I’m uncomfortable with how easy it was.”

“How do you mean?”

“Sitting there, talking business. Flattering the client. Being your date.”

There’s that word again. Why don’t I want to correct her when she uses it?

“You were good at it,” I say in a low voice. Arousal stirs in my veins, and I take a breath to remind myself why this is a terrible idea.

“Thank you,” she says with a soft smile. Even in the dark of the limo, I can see her eyes sparkle. “It was my first time. Doing something like this, I mean.”

She’s a good girl, just as I suspected. She’s probably never broken one rule, done anything outside of her straight-A, Miss Responsible routine in her entire life. So, why does that thought make me want to bend her over my desk and spank her ass?

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I say, trying to keep my tone cool.

“No, I just wasn’t sure how it would go. Pretending with you, I mean,” she says, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so chatty about this with you. Duh.”

She’s so fucking cute.

“It’s no trouble. I’m interested.”

“Well, thanks. I’m glad you were my first.” She blushes immediately. “Can you pretend I didn’t just say that?”

“Sure.”

I say one thing, but as usual, my body does another. My cock sure can’t forget that little piece of treasured knowledge.

This dinner was incredibly successful on the business front. Not exactly a personal victory for the front of my pants, however. I’m still as horny as fuck, if not more than before. Goddammit.

We pull up to her apartment complex. I climb out of the car, walk around, and open her door. She quietly steps out. The distance between us is maddening, but I maintain it all the same.

“Have a good night,” she says softly, almost breathless.

Am I making you nervous, Presley?

“You’re not done with me yet.” I offer her my arm.

“Oh, I’m not—”

“Don’t worry. I just want to walk you to your door.”

“Oh. All right.” She bites her lip, stifling a soft laugh, as she loops her arm through mine.

I can’t remember the last time I walked a woman to her door. It should bother me that this feels much more like a date than It should. Presley’s my employee for Christ’s sake. But I guess I’m still riding a high of how well she did winning over Roger.

We walk in silence up to her apartment door. It reminds me of where I lived in college, an old brick and mortar with a buzzer next to the door. Nostalgia fills me with a thousand memories of the younger me. Bold. Reckless. Carefree.

It seems like a lifetime ago.

I hold her hand up the steps until we reach the top, enjoying how soft her skin is as it rests lightly against my palm. At the door, she turns back to me. I’m on the stair below, our eyes at the same level. For a moment, we just take in the sight of each other. She really is beautiful with her high cheekbones, wide eyes, and full mouth.

“Thank you, Dominic. I had a nice time.” It’s almost a whisper. She isn’t quite looking in my eyes anymore, but rather her gaze rests on my lips.

Interesting.

“No. Thank you,” I say softly.

Her hand is still in mine, and I lift it to the lips she’s been staring at to press a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. I swear I can feel her take in a breath. With my lips still touching her, I meet her eyes.