Style (Dressing a Billionaire Book 2): A Romantic Comedy by Jamie Lee Scott Page B

me. You can’t fire me now.”
    He kissed down the side of my neck. “I haven’t done this.”
    Oh, no, he definitely hadn’t. And it felt so good.
    “I need this job.” I protested weakly. So weak, in fact, it sounded pathetic.
    “I need you,” he moaned, pushing me toward my room and closing the door behind him.
    “But we haven’t even had a real first date,” I pointed out.
    I needed the logical part of my head to shut the fuck up. I needed to zip my lips, but if I did that, I couldn’t kiss him back and enjoy the taste of whiskey on his tongue. Wait, whiskey!
    “How much have you had to drink, Hugo.” I push away hard this time.
    “I’m celebrating. We tripled expectations for release day. The watch is a mega hit! My parents called earlier. Proud parents, so proud.” He ran the words together.
    I tried to smile. He wanted someone to celebrate with. Not necessarily me, but he didn’t have anyone else at that moment.
    “I’m so happy for you, but I’m not doing this.” I shoved at him.
    “I need to relieve years of balled up stress, and I need you.” I heard the slur in his words this time.
    May as well say what I want, because wouldn’t remember in the morning. “And I want to fuck your brains out, lick every inch of your body, and suck…but I’m not going to do it when you’re drunk. Besides, you probably can’t get it up if you’re this drunk.”
    I looked down at his jeans. “I can. I think.” The enthusiasm waned.
    I kissed him on the mouth, unable to stop myself. “Let’s go back to your room.”
    I kissed him all the way to my door, opened it, then pushed him through.
    The look on his face when I closed my hotel room door on it made my heart ache and reminded me of a hurt little boy. It took everything in me not to open the door and jump his body.
    I waited for him to leave, then put the “do not disturb” sign on the door and walked back to the bedroom. I put on my noise canceling headphones and went back to bed. The idea that he could only hit on me drunk made me sick to my stomach.

Chapter Nine
    I fell asleep with the headphones on and dreamed of Hugo. Only he’d been a watch that kept ticking in my head, then the big hand on the watch turned into a penis, and the little hand into a tongue, all at the same time as the alarm kept moaning over and over, “I need you.” I tossed and turned, trying to turn off the thoughts in my head.And yet, every time I fell asleep, I’d see that damned big hand. The least he could have given me was a wet dream, not this watch and penis nightmare.
    The bedroom had blackout curtains, so I didn’t know if I’d woken to middle of the night or early morning. I picked up my phone to see it was neither. I’d slept until eleven! What was it with me and sleeping so late? Had I really not adjusted to the time changes and my “drive lag” from the trip home? It had been weeks, and I knew it couldn’t be the time change or lack of sleep from the cross-country trek.
    My mind had gone into hibernation. It wanted to sleep, so it didn’t have to think. Only my brain didn’t know how to turn my mind off. The dreams creepy, and reality a mess. Maybe the only answer to my problem: get falling down drunk, act on my whims, and regret nothing.
    Also on my phone, messages from two possible new clients. Via Derek! And one from Orlean: You can stop hating me now. Bruce and I split the sheets .
    What? I didn’t hate her. It had just been a weird episode the other day. I could easily see her as my sister-in-law. Or maybe not. I liked Orlean, but not as much as Gwen. If I could tear Gwen away from Ian long enough to make her like Bruce, I’d go for that combo.
    I loved my brother, and even though we fought, I knew he’d be going places. He had ambitions. He didn’t share his thoughts and ideas the way I did. But I knew he’d been working at something. Coders are stealthy that way. They hide out for months, then emerge from their cave with the next Grand