Her Dirty Billionaires

Any thoughts I’d had of making myself relax disappeared. I set my alarm and started planning my whole day in my head before eventually falling asleep.

~

For the first time in a while, I went for a run after breakfast to loosen my muscles and clear my head. And when I got back, I decided to clean up as a favor to Denton. I hadn’t seen much of him lately because he’d been so busy with work.

Once I finished

tidying up, I showered and lounged around in my robe until four, giving myself three hours to pick out an outfit, do my hair and makeup, get dressed, and leave. So until it was time to start getting ready, I distracted myself by wondering what they could possibly want with me. There hadn’t been anything on their invite besides the date and time, which I double checked, even to the point of making sure it was in the right time zone.

Finally, I began rummaging through my business clothes when a thought came over me…

I’d watched so many other women in my internships get offered full-time jobs just because they traded in their pant-suits for nice dresses on evaluation or observation day. I contemplated whether I should do the same.

I had the assets and knew how to work them, but could I do it for a job?

I groaned and leaned on my closet door in frustration. I needed this job, but at what expense?

Glancing at my closet, an old dress caught my eye. The fabric deep and blue, I knew it would set off my skin and hair. The neckline was a little low, but my bust would fill it out. It was fairly short, but not inappropriately so, stopping just above my knees.

Sighing, I went to do my hair and makeup—nothing too fancy, just light foundation, a bit of natural blush, and nude lipstick. Once I slipped the dress on and added the black Mary Janes, I was ready.

Ready for whatever the hell lied ahead of me.

With an hour to spare, I spritzed on some perfume and grabbed my clutch purse before heading out. My GPS took me right to the venue, where I got valet parked, as well as some funny stares since my car wasn’t a million-dollar vehicle.

“Hello,” I said to the hostess once I was inside. “I have a meeting with H&P.”

The young woman smiled and led me along. Her hips swayed in a way I was sure she was trained to do for the men who regularly dined here. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, wondering if I had picked the right attire; I felt so exposed.

We rounded the corner, beyond a big private wall.

There they were, Jude and Maverick.

Seeing me, they stood. The two of them looked me over as I did the same to them. Jude had his suit jacket off. The white of his dress shirt stretched over his muscles and the black ink of his tattoos was visible beneath. He spread his legs in a power stance, his hands in his pockets drawing attention to his cock.

Contrastingly, Maverick had his gray suit jacket on, although it was open and showing that he too, had his hands in his pockets. His legs were also slightly spread.

The two of them looked like powerful alphas—Jude with his dark hair and eyes, strong jaw, and pursed lips, and Maverick with his light hair, soft blue eyes, and chiseled face.

How could I work with them and behave myself? I tightened my legs.

“I see you’ve found better shoes,” Maverick said, stepping forward. His scent surrounded me, and I placed his cologne as the softer one that I smelled fresh detergent under.

“I have,” I said, offering a light smile as he extended his hand to me. His hand was calloused and firm, and I could still feel it after our handshake ended.

He cleared his throat and moved toward the table, a half-booth with a high back of brown leather.

I looked toward Jude, the more intimidating of the two. He reached out to shake my hand and I reciprocated. “Good evening, Miss Cates,” he said, his deep voice washing over me. He stepped aside, gesturing to the booth. I slid inside, surprised when they each situated themselves on either side of me. I clenched legs, while the two of them sat with theirs spread wide, leaning forward.

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Maverick said. His blue eyes bored into mine with such intensity, I felt like a prisoner. But what really unnerved me was the fact that I could feel Jude staring at me too. I had a strong suspicion that he was sizing me up, undressing me with his eyes. I could practically feel them moving my zipper down while I concentrated on Maverick. Studying his hard jaws and soft lips, I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination making me think I felt Jude’s breath on my ear.

“Of course,” I finally answered.

I chanced a glance over to Jude, whose dark eyes pinned me in place. I looked at his face long enough to see the lines of age. Long enough to see the falters in his hard exterior.

Long enough to imagine his lips all over me…

What I didn’t imagine was him coming closer, pressing his knee to my legs so much that I had to cross them. The slight shift sang up my groin and I felt myself clenching and seeping onto my lace underwear. I swallowed nervously, hoping it wasn’t getting on my dress. My chest rising faster, my breasts swelled in the tight dress, and when Jude looked me up and down, I nearly exploded.