Page 1 of Flirt Like A Pin-Up

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MARGOT

I’m standing at the library windows in Coulter Manning’s mini-mansion, watching one of my close friends, Brooklyn Pierce, become Mrs. Manning. Actually, she became Mrs. Manning about thirty minutes ago. I know because I was standing next to her as they exchanged their vows.

Unfortunately, also standing up with the bride and groom was Camden Manning, Coulter’s younger brother and the bane of my existence—hence why I’m hiding in the library looking down at the party versus mingling with the guests and flirting with cute, single men.

This is crazy. I’m a born mingler.

A professional flirter.

The party personified.

But that man makes me so crazy, I feel the need to hide until I can leave this beautiful party without insulting anyone—specifically the bride and groom.

“You want to see something cool?” I’d know Camden’s silky smooth voice anywhere. I’ve been masturbating to his sensual voicemails for months. Voicemails he should not be leaving me. Voicemails asking and telling me about all the things he wants to do to me.

The man is delicious and filthy, which is why I avoid him. I can’t tell him no when we’re face to face. All I can do is make sure I’m walking away whenever he looks at me in the office, or listen to his voicemails ad nauseam, but never return his calls.

“From you? No,” I say without turning around. I will not make eye contact with him. We cannot engage or else I will lose control.

He’s hot—like off-the-charts hot. Number six on Spring City’s top ten most eligible bachelors chart-style hot. And when he gets close, he knows how to turn my insides into molten goo.

We’ve never had sex, but we’ve fooled around a couple of times. The first time was at the company Christmas party last December in this very room. Then after the Matchmakers speed dating event on Valentine’s Day at the Overlook Hotel. And then last June at Coulter and Brooklyn’s engagement party—again in this very room.

Why did I choose this room to hide? It’s like I’m asking for him to find me.

Maybe I am.

A latch clicks and then he’s standing behind me, his chest pressed against my back, warm breath caressing my neck. “You look beautiful, Margot,” he says as he slides his palm up my bare arm.

“Don’t.” I shrug out of his hold, taking a few steps away before turning to face him. “What are you doing in here?”

“Looking for you.”

Shaking my head, I flash him a placating smile. “I’ve already told you, I’m not going to fuck you in your brother’s library, Mr. Manning.”

“Did I ask to fuck you?” Camden leans against the window frame with his hands in his pockets.

“No, but—”

“I have, however, asked you out on many dates, and you’ve turned me down every time. Why?”

“You know why.”

“Because—” he uses his finger and performs air quotes while rolling his eyes “—I don’t really want you. I just want to fuck you like every other man.”

I frown. I’ve only said that to him a couple times, but apparently that was enough. “And you’re my boss.”

He shakes his head and pushes off the window frame. “I’m not your boss. I’m the VP of Public Relations at the company you work for.”

“You’ll be everyone’s boss for the next month while Coulter is on his honeymoon.”

A sinister smile spreads across Camden’s perfect lips as he takes a step toward me. “That’s right, and I’ll need an assistant. I wonder who that should be?”

“No.” I take one step back for every step he takes forward until I’m backed up against a stack of books. Camden doesn’t stop, removing the space between us, his broad chest pressed against my full breasts. He sticks his nose into the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent and sending blood rushing to my clit. Fuck, this man makes me crazy. “Having me as your assistant would be a bad idea, Camden.”

“Because no matter how hard you try to resist me, you can’t. Not really. Not when you’re forced to deal with me—which, as my assistant, you would be—daily.”

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