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I Wanna Sext You Up




  I Wanna Sext You Up is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Loveswept Ebook Original

  Copyright © 2019 by REC LIT, LLC

  Excerpt from Sext with Me by Evie Claire copyright © 2019 by REC LIT, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Loveswept is a registered trademark and the Loveswept colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  This book contains an excerpt from Sext with Me by Evie Claire. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  Ebook ISBN 9780525621072

  Cover design: Caroline Johnson

  Cover photograph: 4x6/iStock

  randomhousebooks.com

  v5.4

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1: Lorie

  Chapter 2: Lorie

  Chapter 3: Lorie

  Chapter 4: Saam

  Chapter 5: Lorie

  Chapter 6: Lorie

  Chapter 7: Saam

  Chapter 8: Lorie

  Chapter 9: Saam

  Chapter 10: Lorie

  Chapter 11: Lorie

  Chapter 12: Saam

  Chapter 13: Lorie

  Chapter 14: Saam

  Chapter 15: Lorie

  Chapter 16: Lorie

  Chapter 17: Saam

  Chapter 18: Lorie

  Chapter 19: Saam

  Chapter 20: Lorie

  Chapter 21: Lorie

  Chapter 22: Saam

  Chapter 23: Lorie

  Chapter 24: Saam

  Chapter 25: Lorie

  Chapter 26: Saam

  Chapter 27: Saam

  Chapter 28: Lorie

  Chapter 29: Lorie

  Chapter 30: Lorie

  Chapter 31: Saam

  Chapter 32: Saam

  Chapter 33: Lorie

  Chapter 34: Lorie

  Chapter 35: Lorie

  Chapter 36: Lorie

  Chapter 37: Saam

  Chapter 38: Lorie

  Chapter 39: Lorie

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  By Evie Claire

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Sext with Me

  Chapter 1

  Lorie

  “Dirty chai latte! At the bar!” A burly barista’s voice boomed over a stodgy but sparse morning crowd of coffee shop patrons. 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 chrome 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. No, she hadn’t slept much at all. In her mind, everything was riding on this meeting. Every detail had to be perfect.

  “Small dirty chai latte!” the barista barked again, peering over the coffee machines at the motionless group of zombies impatiently awaiting their orders. 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. No, the drink wasn’t hers.

  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. Lorie’s stomach tightened.

  She knew what a look like that meant. 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. Ugh.

  “Err, S…Sam? Saame? Saaaa—I don’t know how to pronounce this…” The barista turned his head sideways, craning his neck, trying to make sense of the marker scribbled down the cup’s side without spilling it.

  “I ordered a large.” A voice rose above the crowd and a man stepped forward. 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. “A large dirty chai latte,” he corrected again when no one else spoke up.

  The 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. “Sorry, man. My bad. You want me to make you another one?” He was so casual over an error that was so obviously his. Lorie waited to see what the customer’s reaction would be. A person’s morning coffee wasn’t something to mess with.

  “I want what I paid for.” The customer’s response was chilly. His expression stony. A collective groan lifted off the gathered zombies—one that usually signaled 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…she knew Mr. 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. She couldn’t immediately place him.

  “Yeah, man. Of course. Let me just…” The barista fumbled with his tools behind the counter, quickly but sloppily repacking the espresso machine cup to make another shot. Then promptly dropping it, sending finely ground bean dust everywhere. “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Oh, come on!” A zombie found her voice and protested the holdup.

  Mr. Ice Cold’s jaw muscles clenched. He looked at his watch, then out the window and across the street at the medical campus of Atlanta’s largest hospital coming to life. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

  What is his name? Lorie thought again. He was Dr. Dukes’s new partner. Young. 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 a signature for samples. Only to end up with a patient room door closed in her face.

  “There’s no time. I have patients waiting.” He grabbed the small latte off the counter and turned to go.

  “Dr. Saam Sherazi,” Lorie blurted it out the instant his name clicked in her head, not intentionally meaning to, but knowing she had to go with it now that she had.

  Shit.

  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. Only it didn’t, resting instead on something behind her. Slowly, she turned and looked over her shoulder, too. Finding nothing but a chalkboard painted wall, she turned back. For the briefes
t second, his eyes flew over her features. She smiled warmly. He remained stone cold. No hint of recognition on his end.

  “Lorie Braddock”—she stepped forward and held out her hand—“with Durden Pharmaceuticals,” she offered the extra crumb, still hoping to jog his memory. “I’m your Lampalin sales rep. We met last week.” Lorie’s greeting was bright and cheery.

  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.

  “Of course,” he said. 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. “I’m late.”

  And that was it. Nothing more. Pivoting on a polished loafer, he strode toward the exit.

  Bullshit, she thought, snapping out of it and watching him cross the parking lot through large glass windows. He certainly did not remember her. That was cool. He certainly did not have to be so condescending about the lie, either. Did he?

  She chewed on her inner cheek as she processed the interaction, only to notice her audience seconds later. All the dodgy morning caffeine addicts, still waiting, still zombies, but now slightly amused by her blow off, too. She was used to being in the spotlight, though not when she felt so unprepared. Spotlights demanded flawlessness. Her cheeks warmed and she turned back to her table, mindlessly thumbing through the sales reports she’d committed to memory when she should have been sleeping.

  Why did not being remembered give her such a hollow feeling? She was a new sales rep. He was a new doctor. It was her job to establish a relationship with him, not the other way around. Still, it bothered her. Making a big to-do over someone that didn’t know her from Adam’s house cat stirred her nerves. Which was the last thing she needed before her meeting. For Lorie—someone who thrived on connecting with people—it was simply inexcusable.

  Was such condescension really necessary?

  She stewed over the encounter as she continued rearranging the meeting table. Wasn’t honesty always the best policy? A simple “Sorry, I don’t remember you” would’ve been infinitely better. He didn’t even shake her hand. So. Rude.

  Her phone vibrated in her suit coat pocket, forcing her out of her own head.

  Liza: Guess what ?

  Lorie closed out of the message to check the time. A text from her best friend so early in the morning meant whatever the “what” was, was a big deal. If this wasn’t the first team meeting she’d ever been trusted to organize, she would’ve already dialed Liza’s number.

  Instead, Lorie took a deep breath, read the text again, and grimaced. She had ten minutes to spare. Looking over the meticulously prepped table, she chewed at her cheek. So much work had gone into the meeting. Stacks of sales reports sat at each seat—color coded, alphabetized, and bound—god bless the twenty-four-hour copy center near her place. Pens and highlighters lined up by each stack, ready to go. Yes, today was a big deal. A time to shine in front of her boss. And while Liza’s “what” did sound important, she couldn’t chance the meeting.

  She also couldn’t totally blow off her bestie. But she could slowroll her. The meeting would last an hour, tops. Then they could talk about Liza’s “what.”

  Lorie: You FINALLY found a way to dye your hair rainbow-glitter-sparkle??

  For Liza, that was totally within the realm of possibility. Her dreams were always outlandish, but she was still Lorie’s pint-sized, perfectly impetuous bestie. Lorie silently chuckled and tucked her phone into her pocket. A ray of quick moving sunshine slashed through the front windows. Lorie squinted into it to see her partner, Quinn Martin, slide into a prime parking space, his windshield momentarily blinding anyone who watched. It made her check her watch again. Eight minutes. Nervously, she straightened the pen. Again.

  “Damn, girl!” Quinn breezed into the coffee shop in a flurry of head turns and dropped jaws. The usual for him. Standing at six-four and possessing a legit ex-college-football-star build, he more than deserved every ogle. “Reports, highlighters, and pens? Is the CEO coming to this meeting?” He winked as he smiled, fanning a hand over the immaculate table and choosing a seat opposite her. Lorie bit her lip and chuckled under her breath, deciding not to mention the thing with Dr. Sherazi. “You can relax a little bit,” he added. “Victoria is the coolest boss ever. Five years ago, she was exactly where you are now. She gets it.” Again, his broad smile pulled over his face. Again, Lorie couldn’t help but notice the heads turning his way.

  The fact that Quinn looked like David Beckham in a business suit wasn’t fair. The fact that he didn’t have one iota of interest in any of the attention coming his way was downright cruel. Lucky for Lorie, she wasn’t tempted. Work colleagues were forever on the no-fly list. It was unprofessional in her mind.

  “I just want it to be perfect.”

  “Why are you so worried about a simple sales meeting?”

  “Because I’m replacing an award-winning sales rep. Shaye was Rookie of the Year. What if I don’t measure up?”

  “Um, I know Shaye. Better than you do.” Quinn gave Lorie a good-natured but reprimanding scoff. “Pharmaceutical sales is a team sport. Shaye won Rookie of the Year because her partners were badasses.” Quinn puffed out his chest, playfully brushing some dirt off his shoulder. Lorie giggled.

  “Then it shouldn’t be too hard for me to win Rookie of the Year, either,” Lorie said, outlining her ultimate career goal with the utmost confidence.

  Quinn shrugged dismissively. “If you can keep up.” He paused for a moment, then leaned in waiting for her to do the same. “You didn’t hear this from me, but Shaye didn’t get a ‘better offer’ from another company.” Quinn threw air quotes around “better offer” and fixed her in a knowing gaze. “She was allowed to leave.” Quinn’s brows momentarily raised after dropping the gossip bomb. He straightened his shirt as he sat and waited, knowing he had her hooked.

  “What?” Lorie leaned over the table. “Shaye was perfect.”

  “Yeah, she was. Until she wasn’t.”

  “How so?” Up until that point, Lorie had heard nothing but Shaye’s praise. The nurses loved her. So did most of the doctors. Lorie was filling big shoes.

  “She had a hard time with certain boundaries.”

  Lorie cocked her head to the side, wordlessly asking for more.

  “Listen, there are lines in this industry. Some are grayer than others. It’s best to stay far away from all of them.”

  “I’m going to need more than that.”

  Quinn grunted as if he hated having to spoon-feed rules to the new sales baby, but accepted the task nonetheless. “If you and I were to decide today we were head over heels in love there would be some minor tweaks made to the team’s sales structure, but it wouldn’t be a big deal and wouldn’t go any further than a talk with Victoria. If you were to decide you were head over heels in love with one of our doctors, the world wouldn’t end, but HR would get involved, you would be thoroughly investigated for any wrongdoing, and there could be significant sales repercussions. Potentially for everyone.”

  “Thank you for the quick review of Durden’s Policies & Procedures Manual, but how does all this pertain to Shaye?”

  “She started sleeping with one of our doctors. A married one. The wife found out and personally called Victoria,” he whispered all this, which gave it much more shock value. “We nearly had our sales award rescinded, but the doctor wasn’t a huge prescriber.”

  Lorie’s mouth dropped open. So much drama. All before eight A.M. “Who?”

  Quinn turned a pretend key in front of his mouth and shook his head. “But you know him.”

  Oh, the possibilities! Lorie mentally ran through her call deck, wondering who it could have been.

  “Why would she do
that? Doctors and sales reps sleeping together is the biggest cliché in the book.”

  “Yeah, it is. Good thing you aren’t the type.”

  Lorie tucked her chin, questioning Quinn with a simple look.

  “You work hard. It shows. Obviously…” He rolled his eyes in the direction of all her hard work, causing Lorie to narrow hers.

  “You think it’ll impress Victoria?” Lorie smoothed her hands down her suit, nervous sweat dampening her palms.

  “It’s great. If you weren’t the new girl, I’d be pissed at you for showing me up.” Quinn threw the comment over his shoulder, turning to his briefcase to pull out his computer.

  “But I am the new girl. How am I supposed to stand out working next to Durden Pharmaceuticals’ Badass of the Year?” Lorie waved a hand up and down Quinn to emphasize the point.

  “That’s the beauty of this job. We’re a team. I win. You win.”

  “I’ve got goals, Quinn, but I don’t need to ride your coattails to get there.” Lorie tucked her head to the side and placed a hand on her hip.

  “Touché!” Quinn fell against the seat back, admiring her sauciness. “Oh, Kate and Allen aren’t coming.” He pointed at two immaculately set seats.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, there’s a formulary issue with Lampalin at the hospital. Getting that straightened out takes precedence over a meeting with Victoria.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I checked my messages.” Quinn tried to swallow the smirk spreading over his face. “Instead of sucking up to the boss…” His eyes strayed slowly over the table as if to imply it was overkill.