More: Quick & Dirty

By Kate Roth

She's an obsessive workaholic. He's an up and coming tech developer staying in the hotel room beside hers. One night of carefree fun and they both realize they want something more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Roth
• Release date: Nov 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201216658

Book preview

Chapter One

Max

Yeah let me get a seven and seven.

I hate these things. Not the drink, of course. These damn conventions. The nights away from my own bed. The nights of finding comfort strictly in a cocktail from a hotel bar. Travel and the kind of non-stop work mode I get into when I’m at a convention also turn me into kind of a dick. Case in point, I just ordered my drink as the woman beside me was about to order hers. What kind of an asshole does that? A whopping two minutes to wait to get my drink so a lady could get hers first isn’t any sort of feat and yet here I am resting my forearms against the bar, nearly tapping my foot with impatience for my drink while she quietly sighs—annoyed—scrolling her phone.

From the corner of my eye, I give her a glance. Her warm blonde hair is pinned up and she’s dressed modestly—buttoned up in corporate attire. From the intense look on her face as she scans the screen of her cell phone I wonder about her line of work. I don’t pick up women at these things. Never have, never plan to. For one, she could easily be attending the convention as well and I think of all the complications that could bring about. One night stands don’t usually work well when you end up seeing the person again.

My gaze lingers on her for a moment. Though she’s conservatively dressed, she’s got pillows for lips and they are painted pin-up red. She presses them together and a little spark zaps me in the groin. Again, these things make me an asshole. Not only have I cut her in line at the bar, I’ve also already assumed she would fuck me and now I’m picturing her lips around my cock.

Shit, I breathe. I move a hand in front of her slowly, enough to get her attention but it doesn’t make contact with her wrist. At least I know better than to touch a woman I don’t know. Her eyes cut to mine and the piercing stare of her caramel colored irises is enough to stop my heart. But I breathe again, a sigh, as I attempt to find my words to apologize.

Her brows lift, waiting for me to say it. She’s owed it and we both know that. I break a smile then glance at the drink that’s just been set in front of me.

I’m sorry. That was rude of me, I start with the basics then end with a lie. I thought you were someone else.

An unexpected laugh claims her and her head rears back. The sight and sound of it makes my gut flutter. Yeah, it fucking flutters like some fairy wings or a baby’s eyelashes as it drifts to sleep. I might be in trouble here.

You thought I was someone else? Someone else who you’d ignore and cut off before she could order a drink?

I laugh and her eyes narrow but not in an annoyed way. It’s got a hint of sultry to it and I examine the way her makeup doesn’t fit her clothing. Smoke rimmed eyes and thick black lashes plus those cherry red lips…god damn she’s stunning.

I feel like a real asshole.

Rightfully so, she snips, but I see a little smirk on her mouth.

Let me buy you a drink. You can have this one or pick your poison, I offer, opening my palm toward the untouched cocktail in front of me.

Rosé, she replies simply then ducks her head to tuck a fallen piece of her hair behind one ear.

All day, I attempt a joke with a grin then flag the bartender, ordering her drink of choice. I’m Max, I say extending my hand.

Audrey.

Her hand slips into mine and it surprises me. She shakes my hand like we’re making a deal. Like she’s serious about something unbeknownst to me. It’s not the delicate, tentative shake most women offer me.

A glass of pretty pink wine slides between us and she picks it up swiftly. I raise my glass and we cheers to nothing in particular.

You’re here for the convention, right? she asks.

My brows dip down in the center and my lips twist up in a smirk. Yeah, how could you tell?

I’m just that good, Audrey teases.

I flash white teeth and watch her shift on her bar stool, crossing her legs. Are you here for the convention, too?

Her head wobbles and her lips purse contemplating her answer. Not exactly.

What do you do?

She sighs and peers at me through dark lashes. I work too much, Max, she says with a laugh.

I chuckle and nod. I can relate.

"Then you know that feeling when you’ve worked too many days in a row, you’ve worn yourself too thin, you’re at the point where you almost want to quit and move to