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“Holy fuck . . . he’s hot,”
“Shut up,”
“Don’t speak,”
“Can I whistle?”
“I totally want to wolf whistle the fuck out of this guy...
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“If the conference part of the trip is boring, just ditch it, and have a week to yourself in France. You need this break,”
“Claire Anderson,” he calls from the stage. My horrified eyes meet his. “Sit back down.” “I . . .” I take another step toward the exit. “Claire,” he warns. I glance around at the 120 pairs of eyes fixed firmly on me and then back up at him. “I said sit. Back. Down.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m getting a massage, actually.”
“W...
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“Your lecture was intolerable and comp...
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“Change of plans.”
“How so?”
“I was only going to stay at the conference for t...
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“...
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“I’ve decided that I’m staying on ...
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“Because one day very soon, I predict that you’re going to be moaning it.”
“Five years ago, my husband was riding a bike early one morning.” I smile as I remember Wade in his full riding kit. “He was training for a triathlon.” I pause. “Go on.” “He was . . . hit by a drunk driver at five fifty-two a.m.”
He rushes me and grabs my face in his hands and kisses me. His tongue swipes through my lips, and he pushes me up against the wall.
“Is this seat taken?”
“Be my guest.”
He has a rippled abdomen and a V of muscles that disappears into his pants. Holy shit.
“Do I look like a man who doesn’t like what he sees?”
“You’re beautiful,”
“So fucking beautiful.”
“Spread them.”
“Clench, baby,” he whispers. “Give me a taste of what I’m about to get.”
“This isn’t funny,” I whisper. “Quick. Get out.”
“You’re hurting my feelings, Anderson.” He smirks as he climbs out of bed. “Kicking me out of bed in the middle of the night. I’ve never heard of such coldheartedness.”
“Shut up,” I whisper. “Go.” I point to the d...
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He smiles and pulls his trousers up. “How dare you use my bo...
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“You’re such an...
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He leans over the bed and smiles down at me. “And you...
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“Is that so?”
“Uh-...
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“I would have done it better,”
“Oh, well, you didn’t.”
“Move over. I’m getting in.”
Fuck . . . how many times can the female body come in one night? This is insane.
WE HAVE UNFINISHED BUSINESS. COME TO PARIS FOR THE WEEKEND. xoxoxox
“That a girl.
He towers above me. He must be six foot three at least. His dark hair is messed to perfection, and his lips are a perfect shade of come fuck me.
“I do love your smart-ass mouth.”
“I may have to fuck it later.”
“My brothers Elliot and Christopher and I share the operations of the French, English, and German offices. We take turns so that one of us is always at each place.”
“Why don’t you just take one office each?”
“Because then”—he sips his wine—“we would all live alone on the other side of the world from one another. This way, we’re all doing the same job and sharing the responsibili...
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