Page 74 of Brazen Deceits

She laughs. “You’re interviewing me, Trips? For the job of badass bitch?”

I lean forward, waiting while the waiter leaves our drinks. The whiskey burns all the way down, and I remind myself that despite what this looks like, it isn’t a date, it’s business. One drink only. I have no intention of losing control. I haven’t in a long time.

“We need a face.”

She just sits there, waiting for an explanation. I sigh. “Fine, we need a hot piece of ass that can get us access to places four guys can’t go.”

She plays with her glass, staring at me. The pretzels sliding across the table breaks our eye contact, and I’m not going to lie, I’m goddamn grateful for the interruption. We take turns ordering, shepherd’s pie for me, fish and chips for her.

After the waiter steps away, she shifts, crossing her legs. “So you want a pretty face? Why me, Trips? I’m not the only hot girl in the world, or even in this bar.”

She motions around the room, and while there are a few good-looking chicks around, she’s the hottest by far. I run my finger along the rim of my glass. “We also need someone who can read the situation and adapt to what’s needed. Someone who thinks on their feet.”

She frowns, like that doesn’t describe her to a T. “I’m prone to panic attacks and begging, Trips, not criminal improvisation. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes planner than anything else.”

“We’re not looking for that role, Clara. It’s face or nothing.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. It takes all I fucking have to keep from dragging her across the table to wipe that look from her face—to take that tongue and put it to better use than doubting that she was made for this bullshit. Even if I fucking wish that weren’t the case. She unfolds her napkin, breaking off some pretzel and dipping it in the mustard. “Why would I take what you’re offering, Trips? What’s in it for me?”

“Money. Lots of money.” I grab bread too, dipping it into the cheese.

She takes a big bite out of her pretzel, shaking her head. “Do you really think that’ll be what convinces me?”

“I know you need it. By this June you’d have enough to pay off all your loans and the rest of your tuition, living expenses, everything.”

She blinks, and I can tell she’s adding that up. Then she gets another chunk of pretzel. “Nice, but not enough, not with the risk.”

How did this just happen? I’d wanted to put her on edge, have her work for her place, and now I’m the one convincing her to join us? The fuck? “None of the guys would have tokeep secrets from you. If you don’t join, we can’t include you, because, as you pointed out, there are risks.”

“I thought my ‘involvement’ with your team was a problem, Trips?” She sets down her pretzel, sipping her drink, and all I can think about is what she’d look like with that mouth wrapped around my cock. The same fucking thought I’ve had for two weeks. With her here in front of me? Yeah, that image is impossible to shove away. I focus on the thought of her sucking Jansen’s cock, hoping for some righteous anger. But, for some dumbass reason, my mind twists it to her sucking both of our cocks, her warm mouth alternating with her hand, hot and wet and—

What the fuck has she done to us? To me?

I run my hands through my hair, trying to regain some ground, to wrest control of the conversation somehow. “I just wanted to make you a fair offer. It’s up to you if you choose to take it.”

The waiter comes back, placing our food in front of us. I’m shocked to find both of our drinks empty. I don’t even remember drinking mine. She gets a refill. I guess she’s still in the mood for whiskey ginger, at least for now.

She squirts ketchup onto her plate, dipping a fry. I never thought watching someone eating fucking fries would be erotic, but somehow, she manages it. I’m half hard, my shepherd’s pie just sitting on my tongue as I watch her. This needs to stop. She’s not for me.

“How long would this contract last, Trips?”

It takes me a minute to remember what we were talking about. I swallow, try to sip my empty glass, grimace, and answer. “After a probationary period? Forever.”

Chapter 33

Clara

The fry in my mouth catches as I try to swallow it down, a choked cough turning into manic laughter.

Forever? I met these guys less than three months ago, and I’m being offered forever by the one guy who resents me being here? How? What? Why?

My thoughts spiral around my hysterics, Trips glaring at me, fury lining his features. “It’s not a joke, Clara.”

I shake my head, trying to get this emotional overload under control. “I know,” I giggle, unable to stop.

“Then why the fuck are you laughing?”

I try another sip of my drink, the sweet, spicy burn turning my cackles into snickers. “You pretty much just proposed to me, Trips.”

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