Page 34 of Drunk on You

He leans in slightly, encroaching on my personal space, and I imagine how easy it would be for him to push my panties to the side and make me come.

Jesus, Ana! Get a grip. This man is the damn enemy.

“I don’t know why you’d want to,” I say, a bit confused by his motives. “It’s not like you’re trying to woo me. This whole thing between us is fake.”

At the time we placed the bet, I thought his idea of taking me away was nothing more than a façade to make it look like we were the real deal in front of his friends.

“What if I didn’t want it to be?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What if I wanted to explore the possibility of more between us?” he presses. He stands, and his hands land on the tops of my thighs, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “When you first got here, the attraction was there. If we weren’t both vying for the same position …”

“Then we would’ve never met, and we wouldn’t be fake engaged.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But here we are. So, what do you say?”

“I say it’s probably best to wait until after I get the CEO position.” I push him harder this time, and he backs up, giving me enough room to jump off the table and walk past him. “I can’t imagine you wanting more once I’m your boss.”

“We’ll see,” Julian says with a chuckle as I saunter out of the room, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell I’ve gotten myself into with this man.

chapter thirteen

JULIAN

“Fuck!”

It’s nine o’clock. Four hours after the alarm was set to go off. I shoot out of the bed and rush to my bathroom to take a quick piss and brush my teeth. I don’t have time to shower since my alarm didn’t go off, so I put on deodorant and then grab something to wear. I usually wear a suit, but I’m running late, so I throw on a pair of charcoal-gray slacks and a white button-down shirt and call it good.

The house is quiet, so Red must’ve left already.

I step into the garage and immediately notice one of the tires on my car is flat. I walk closer and see it’s not just one, but all of them.

Shit! Looks like I’ll have to take my truck today.

Only when I walk over to it, I see the tires on the truck are also all flat. And what’s that? I walk over and find a fucking red lipstick imprint on my goddamn window.

Fucking Red! She apologized, admitted I was right, and then turned around and fucked me over. And she’s not even trying to hide it.

I pull out my phone to request an Uber, but of course it says it will be a good hour before one can be here. We live in a small town outside the city, so the place isn’t exactly crawling with people who need a ride.

I scroll through my Contacts and call Ryder, hoping he’s on his way to work and he can swing by and pick me up.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asks, sounding like he’s anything but.

“Anastasia deflated all my tires.”

He chuckles. “I take it, she wasn’t thrilled with you landing the deal behind her back?”

“Even she admitted I did the right thing,” I drawl.

“Yet there you are, stuck at home with eight flat tires. I’ll be right there.”

By the time Ryder picks me up and we get to work, the meeting Samuel requested at dinner last night is over, and I’m fuming.

Since I already know the meeting was to let everyone know the collab with Ronan has been secured, I go straight to my office. About thirty minutes into my morning routine, Josie lets me know Ronan’s on the line.

“Do you not have my personal number?” I ask when I answer.

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