Fling Read Online Free Books by Jana Aston (Wrong #2.5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Series by Jana Aston
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Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
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At twenty-six I’m satisfied in my job, fulfilled even, but my personal life is nowhere near satisfying. I moved to Philadelphia from Delaware two years ago when I got the job at Clemens Corporation. I was grateful to get away from home. I needed to, and Philadelphia was an ideal place to start again.

I dove in, finding an apartment and jumping into dating life in a new city. Yet two years later I’m alone.

Alone and secretly pining for Gabe Laurent.

It’s stupid. He is so outta my league.

Preston and I hit the employee cafeteria, along with everyone else. It’s free, one of the many perks of working at Clemens. We chat about the holidays and my plans to head to Delaware for Christmas Day and Preston’s plans to visit his parents in Los Angeles with Liam.

“Are you sure you can’t come back from LA early so you don’t miss the company New Year’s Eve party?” I ask. “It won’t be the same without you.”

“That’s true, but no. I’m not returning to this weather a day earlier than necessary.”

I sigh good-naturedly, understanding. We finish lunch and clear our trays then head back to the auditorium for the afternoon session.

“Wake me up if I fall asleep,” Preston tells me, dropping into his chair. “I shouldn’t have had carbs at lunch,” he adds with a yawn.

“I’m on it,” I assure him as I straighten the papers in front of me and ready myself for the afternoon session. I look up in time to see Gabe walk through the door. It’s like I have a Spidey sense when he’s around. My eyes are always in the right place at the right time when it comes to Gabe.

He’s wearing charcoal dress pants today and a blue sweater. It looks like cashmere. I’d kill to run my fingers over it and find out, I think as one of the interns from marketing hands him a stack of papers. The surveys from this morning’s meetings, it looks like. I glance down at my stack of papers, looking for mine. Oh, shoot, I hope mine’s in there. I worked really hard on giving thoughtful detailed answers.

“Did they collect the surveys before lunch?” I ask Preston, glancing in his direction.

He looks up from his phone with a shake of his head. “Nope. They probably collected them while we were at lunch.”

“Oh, okay, good. Mine should be in there then,” I say, checking and finding it missing from my stack. I left it on top, didn’t I? I flip through my papers just to make sure it got collected. I didn’t realize they’d be going to Gabe, so I’m extra glad I was so thorough with my answers.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

“Preston!” I hiss in panic as my mind races. That crazy sex quiz he made up. Where did I leave that? I had it in my hand, then Sawyer asked me to make that call…

“What?” Preston asks, setting his phone down and checking the meeting agenda to see who’s on next.

“Where’s that quiz you made up? Do you have it?” I’m shaking as I flip through the papers before me one more time.

“No, you never gave it back to me.”

“I know, but you didn’t pick it up again? After I left? Are you sure?” I’m in full panic mode.

“No, Sandy. I don’t have it,” he says slowly, shaking his head. “I wrote it on the back of my survey. They must have picked it up when they collected them.”

I’m positive all the blood must drain from my face because Preston’s eyes widen and he sits up in his chair. “It’s fine. Your name wasn’t on it. The surveys were anonymous, remember? My name isn’t on it either.”

I riffle through the two papers in front of Preston anyway. It’s not there. I close my eyes and consider my options. I could move back to Delaware. Join the Peace Corps.

“Who did you name?” Preston whispers.

I turn my head and look at him, then flick my eyes to Gabe, standing a few feet away from us in the front row about to sit down.

“Knew it!” Preston crows, slapping a hand down on his thigh. He grins then winks at me. “He is ideal,” he says, running an appreciative glance over Gabe’s body. This isn’t anything new. Preston might be the only person who checks out Gabe’s ass more often than I do.

“You’re married,” I remind him. “And Gabe’s your boss.” Preston is his assistant.

“Yeah, yeah.”

We both watch as Gabe sets down the stack of papers on the workspace in front of him. I can see the papers clearly now—the surveys from earlier.

“He might be a little much for you,” Preston says.

“Thanks. Thanks a lot.” I watch Gabe turn to sit. Those damn pants do fit him perfectly.

“I’m sorry! I just meant he’s a little old for you.”


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