Marry Me, G. Hauser [ereader for textbooks .txt] 📗

and cell phone working.”

“You got it.” He smiled and as he headed back to his office

he stopped short. Braxton’s door was open and he could see the

man inside, his shirtsleeves rolled up, talking on his hands-free

phone as he typed on the computer keyboard. Fabian was

smitten. The man was so damn hot. Look at that head of hair.

Fabian imagined running his hands through it while he fucked

this wild whore.

He heard a giggle from Brianna.

Fabian snapped out of his gawking and returned to his office

before Brianna figured him out, unless she already had.

Back at his desk, getting to the emails, an instant message

popped up from her. Fabian read, ‘ He’s trouble with a capital

‘T’- you know that right? ’

Fabian’s cheeks grew rosy. He replied, ‘ Yes. I do. Thanks.’

Just as he expected an end to the topic she added, ‘ but he’s

hot for you too! ;)’

“Shit.” Fabian didn’t reply back and dove back into the work.

~

An empty salad bowl sat on his desk, where he had eaten his

lunch. Braxton heard Brianna saying, “Mr Todd? Don’t you have

a dinner date?”

“Yeah.” He frowned and checked his watch. It was nearing

five-thirty.

She popped her head into his office and spotted the empty

bowl, tossing it out for him. “Go. Don’t let the charity down.”

“I don’t want to go.” He peeked up and noticed Fabian

behind her. “You’re still here? Go home, newbie!”

“I wanted to get the emails taken care of,” Fabian said,

moving closer to Braxton’s open door.

“You never will. Get used to it.” Braxton sighed and shut his

computer down.

“He’s got his first auction date tonight,” Brianna said to

Fabian, staring up at his height.

“Oh? Someone good?”

“No. A fucking aging CEO of a car firm.” Braxton rolled his

sleeves down and buttoned the cuffs, growing frustrated. Brianna

came to his aid and did both cuffs for him. “I feel like a helpless twit.”

“No. You’re just overworked and undersexed.”

Braxton immediately looked to see Fabian’s reaction. Fabian

appeared to bite his tongue. When Brianna was done, Braxton

put his suit jacket on. “Contrary to popular belief, Mr Rhys, I do

not sleep with a different person every night.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Fabian held up his hands and feigned

innocence.

“He hasn’t been laid in months.” Brianna straightened

Braxton’s tie.

“Missy?” Braxton grew embarrassed. “No need to share my

personal data with the newbie.”

“Just want him to know the rumors about you being

promiscuous are completely wrong. I know you go home and

work all night.”

“Brianna.” Braxton died of humiliation. “I have to go. I’m

already going to be late.”

“Fashionably,” she said, tongue-in-cheek.

As Braxton made sure he had everything he came to work

with, patting his pockets and heading to the lobby door, he heard

Brianna say, “So?”

Braxton spun around, wondering if she was addressing him

and spotted Brianna and Fabian staring at each other for some

kind exchange of opinion.

Not having the time to even ask, and not wanting to, Braxton

hustled out to the elevator and pushed the call button. He heard

the other two talking and Brianna locking up the office behind

him. Now the three of them were waiting for the elevator.

Braxton had no idea what Brianna may have said to Fabian

behind his back, though it would be favorable, Braxton didn’t

want Fabian to know he would fuck him…in a minute.

The three of them were dead silent in the elevator, and as

other office workers, done for the day, entered with them,

Braxton backed up to the wall. Fabian caught his eye. Braxton

had no idea what Fabian thought of him.

Not offering a smile, Braxton instead gave him a pleading

look. It wasn’t intentional, but in so many ways Braxton felt

helpless, and a man as intelligent and confident as Fabian? So

sharp he not only dove into the work instantly, without a baby-

sitter, Fabian was neither smitten nor intimidated by him. Not the

case with so many men and women he’d met before.

The elevator opened to the parking area and though he was

about to push his way out to not be late, Braxton waited for the

area to clear out before he jogged to his car.

“Good luck!” Brianna yelled as he did.

Braxton looked over his shoulder to see Fabian approaching

an older model Lexus, glancing quickly at him. When they met

gazes again, Braxton wanted him. He could imagine kissing him,

roughing him up in bed.

Fabian entered his car and Braxton had to stop thinking about

him in that way. He did not hire Fabian to make him a conquest.

Did he?

“No!” Braxton shook his head at his own stupidity and tried

not hit anything with his car as he headed to The Palm.

~

Fabian waited as Braxton’s gold Porsche squealed its tires as

it raced out of the parking garage.

“What the hell?” Fabian sat still to recuperate before he

backed out. Brianna left next, and Fabian sat alone in his car

trying to interpret the look. Predatory. Oh yes. Braxton Todd was

on the hunt.

“Jesus. That easy? First day on the job? Get the new guy in

the sack? Are you kidding me?” But the sexual potency of

Braxton was amazing and very hard to resist. Resolved not to

become the next victim ambushed by this known playboy,

Fabian backed out of the space, frowning in annoyance. “All

business, buddy. Sorry. I am not losing this job because your

dick-compass is pointing my way.” He peeked down at his lap.

“Shut up,” he said to his own cock, which was throbbing in his

slacks.

Chapter 7

As the valet opened the door of his Porsche, Braxton used his

cell phone earpiece and left the car running as he spoke. “Yes,

Sophia, I’m here. Are you telling me Drew Persely called you to

complain?”

“Darling, you are late!”

Braxton checked his watch. “Seven minutes. Seven minutes!”

He took the claim ticket for his car and walked into the

restaurant. “Goodbye.” He disconnected the line and removed

the earpiece, fuming mad but trying hard to adjust his attitude.

The hostess immediately recognized him and approached

him. “Mr Todd. Your party is waiting for you.”

“So I’ve heard.” He scanned the crowded restaurant, which

for a Monday night was packed with diners. She led him to a

white-haired heavyset man, scowling, holding a martini to his

lips.

“Mr Persely, your companion has arrived.” She addressed

Braxton, “What may I get you to drink?”

Thinking he was not going to consume alcohol,