Wanna sext

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Learn more about our lists. More from Evie Claire. Our Books Recommended Books. Embed This Book. Copy and paste the below script into your own website or blog to embed this book. I Wanna Sext You Up. Warning: Workplace flirtation may cause side effects. Super-geek physician Saam Sherazi, M. At twenty-five, former beauty queen Lorie Braddock is finally living life on her terms. Until Dr. Saam Sherazi starts invading her thoughts.

Keep Reading. At the bar! Silently, they waited, stony faced, staring at their phones or the floor, purposefully avoiding any form of interpersonal communication before downing the cuppa lifeblood that would make them human again. Lorie Braddock was miles ahead of them, in an adorable—but slightly grating—Energizer Bunny kind of way, given the early hour.

Espresso shots and nerves do that to a girl. Hidden behind the wanna sext and brass brewing machines, she arranged—and then rearranged—a corner table set for the meeting her boss had asked her to organize. It was her first time, a meeting-planning virgin. Yes, she was a half hour early. In her mind, everything was riding on this meeting. Every detail had to be perfect.

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Lorie was the only one brave enough to make eye contact with him. She shook her head and brushed away the wave of blond hair the small gesture sent spilling over her shoulder. Encouraged by the eye contact, the barista took a moment, halting his search, smiling and then trailing his gaze over her appreciatively. Until it stopped at the top button of her shirt.

She knew what a look like that meant.

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And it was the last thing she needed before her meeting. Holding his gaze, she narrowed her eyes and collected her hair into a ponytail, using a rubber band to secure a low bun that disappeared into her button-down collar. Some men. He was tall and trim, dressed in khakis and a crisp linen button-down. Loafers polished.

Shirt starched. Dark hair that disappeared into a perfect spiky fade down the back of his neck. Wanna sext barista let out a sigh. Looked at the cup. Looked at the order ticket. And sighed again, louder this time and with a grunt at the end.

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My bad. You want me to make you another one? His expression stony. A collective groan lifted off the gathered zombies—one that usually aled an impending feeding frenzy on The Walking Dead. It was enough to pull Lorie farther away from her table. She peeked around the machines for an unobstructed view of the unfolding drama.

Wait a second.

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Ice Cold. What is his name? Being the newest sales rep for Durden Pharmaceuticals tasked her with calling on nearly one hundred and fifty doctors. All of whom she had spent hours studying—where they went to med school, their medical partners, prescribing habits, patient demographics. The list went on and on. She knew him. Of course.

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Let me just. Then promptly dropping it, sending finely ground bean dust everywhere. He shook his head and closed his eyes. Lorie thought again. He was Dr. Fresh out of med school, and not at all a warm fuzzy type of guy. Last week, Lorie had chased him down a hallway trying to get wanna sext ature for samples. Only to end up with a patient room door closed in her face. I have patients waiting. Ice Man stopped, but said nothing, turning back to her with an empty expression.

Had his gaze landed on Lorie he might have recognized her. They kind of met last week.

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Slowly, she turned and looked over her shoulder, too. Finding nothing but a chalkboard painted wall, she turned back.

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For the briefest second, his eyes flew over her wanna sext. She smiled warmly. He remained stone cold. No hint of recognition on his end. We met last week. Slowly, his gaze trailed down the arm she extended, past her outstretched hand, and over to his own to check his watch, again. He made a weird sound in his throat, then shook his head in a way that was politely dismissive.

His attention still on his watch, the lie was so obvious it left Lorie motionless with her hand still hanging out, unable to process his degree of incivility. Nothing more. Pivoting on a polished loafer, he strode toward the exit. Evie Claire - About the author.

Evie Claire lives in Athens, Georgia, with her husband and two young daughters. Her other loves include Bulletproof coffee, red wine, yoga pants, and broody romance heroes she once owned a pony named Darcy. Excerpt About the Author Buy Share.

Wanna sext

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