Page 9 of The Fake Wedding Date

I pictured Mark directing my movements with his words and hands while I rode him, and my core fluttered and I definitely felt like squirming.

Emory cleared her throat and I blinked, jerking my gaze from Mark’s. I smiled at Emory, but my entire focus was on the press of Mark's hard body against my own.

“And how was working together after?” Emory asked. Her eyes moved between Mark and me, taking in the way I leaned into him, and his possessive hand on my hip.

“It was fine.” I waved her off, faking nonchalance. “We went to the bar after work and discussed the coworker's thing. We both understood and agreed to each other's terms. The next day was pretty standard. We can separate work and still have fun.”

“Okay, well, good,” she said, but her smile was forced. I could see the concern in her eyes. “Have fun, guys. Need to thank more people for coming,” she sang, pulling Ben away. He followed at a much less energetic pace.

I took a step away from Mark. Things were starting to feel too real. I couldn’t let myself lust after Mark. He was more than my assistant; he was my friend. And I couldn’t lose him.

I needed more alcohol. My buzz was fading too fast and I needed more fortification.

CHAPTER5

Iordered myself a Last Kiss and Mark’s normal whiskey and took a deep breath while I waited. I’d left Mark on the dance floor, needing air I didn’t share with him.

I’d blame the alcohol and wedding atmosphere for my body’s strong reaction, but I knew it was more than that. We’d drank together before. Been to fancy events. We hung out often, and I was fine. It was the words he’d spoken and the looks he’d been giving me that affected me. It didn’t feel like he was faking his attraction, and that was messing with my head.

If I was being honest, my conversation with my sister before the wedding had sparked the change for me. Telling someone that Mark and I had hooked up had made my prior fantasies seem more real, more possible. Then he went and looked at me like I was his next meal, held me like he owned me, and touched me like he was holding himself back from doing more, and my body was responding to that unlike it had with anyone before him.

When our drinks were placed in front of us, I shot the red shooter and immediately ordered the next on the list.

I didn’t need to turn to know he’d come up behind me. I had always been more aware of his presence than others, but not like this. It was like the air itself changed when he approached.

“Fuck, Quinn, you made me sound like a transaction to Emory,” Mark said, sounding legitimately offended.

“Not transactional. Casual, but fully informed and consenting,” I replied.

“Again, I heard transactional,” he insisted.

I gave him a look. “We have never had sex and the relationship is not real, so there was no need to be offended.”

“Who organizes their hookups like that?”

“I do.”

He pauses with his drink half up to his lips. “Really?”

“Yes. I start all my relationships with a disclaimer that I work too much and aren’t really looking for anything serious.”

“That’snotthe same thing.”

“Yes, it is. Two adults talking about being in a relationship and working it out.”

“Still not seeing how ‘we agreed to each other's terms’ doesn’t sound like a transaction.”

“Coworkers would need to make sure they left work at work and kept their private lives separate. It would need to be okayed with HR before pursuing anything serious. It’s even more the case with us since I’m your superior. Em would know that, and knowing me, she’d know I’d have discussed it with you.”

Watching me over the rim of his glass, he took a sip. “What other terms do you usually negotiate?”

I shook my head at him, my face fighting the smile at his jab. “It's not like that. I like to work, and it’s come between every relationship I’ve been in since college. One guy even told me I had to choose.” I scoffed. “I chose work, obviously.”

“I do the same,” he said, continuing to watch me.

I fidgeted with my necklace. “We get out all expectations and it saves a lot of fights down the road. I don’t feel guilty when I don’t call, and they don’t get offended.”

“How long do these types of relationships usually last for you?”

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