Mr. CEO(33)

I finally look at where she was seated, half expecting her to have just left, but she’s still there, staring at the pen in her hand as she taps it lightly on the table. The rest of the group files out, most people not paying much attention to either of us.

The second the door shuts, she looks up at me with a glare. “I told you, I didn’t want to do this.”

I hold her gaze and watch as several emotions flit across her face. But the one most evident is insecurity. She still doesn’t know what to think.

What she needs is a good fuck. She needs a release, and so do I.

She’s making this so damn difficult. Part of me wants to bend her over this table and take care of her like I want to. She’d feel better then. She’d be happier.

My dick hardens just thinking about it. Charlotte clears her throat and starts going on about how she wants the same respect as everyone else. Something or other that I don’t really pay attention to. After all, I respect her more than most of them. Whether she wants to believe it or not.

It doesn’t stop me from picturing her plump lips parted as she pants and moans in time with me leaving a bright red mark on her ass and fucking her.

Soon… if I play my cards right.

Right now she can yell at me all she wants. She can fight this and pretend she doesn’t want it. I have the time.

The thought makes my eyes drop to the floor and my fists clench. It’s only when I stop hearing her sweet voice that I look up.

“You weren’t even listening!” she says with exasperation.

Fuck! I didn’t mean that. How fucking deep am I going to dig this damn hole I’m in?

I hold my hands up in surrender as she breathes deeply and starts to lay into me again, “I don’t know what you expect from me when you won’t even listen to me!” Her voice is getting louder and I’m sure they’re going to hear her if she yells anymore. I should probably wait to approach her again, but I'm an impatient man.

I keep my hands raised in surrender, “I’m sorry. I do apologize.”

She looks at my hands and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She grips the pen and then looks back at me. She swallows thickly and asks, “What do you want, Logan?”

“I want to take you to dinner,” I say simply.

The words come out without my consent. I hadn’t anticipated it. I didn’t even know what I wanted to tell her when I called out her name. I just couldn’t let her leave with the way we left things.

She looks at me completely bewildered, as though she doesn’t believe what I said. Her mouth opens and closes, with nothing coming out.

I only want to give her pleasure. I can see how easily it would work. She’d benefit as much as I would. But it was never meant to leave the office. It can’t be… more.

This is dangerous. More for her than me. It’s one thing to take her as a fuck buddy for mutual enjoyment and keeping things limited to the office. That’s what I had in mind when I saw her in Vegas. Nothing more than that. But I didn’t anticipate feeling… guilty.

I hurt her, and I want to make it right. I think she just needs to see me in a different light. She has me built up as the enemy. I don’t want that.

I can take her out this one time. Just once. Just to smooth things over and get her naked on my desk tomorrow morning.

“No strings. No commitments. Just dinner.”

“That’s why you asked me to stay?” she asks with slight disbelief.

“Yes.” My heart hammers in my chest as I tell her again. “I just want to take you to dinner.”





Chapter 19





Charlotte





Just dinner. That’s what he says. A part of me wants to believe him, but I get the feeling that he wants more. It makes me feel uneasy, but a part of me wants more, too. I crave what happened in Vegas between us, it was the first time that I’ve felt anything since breaking up with Ian.

I feel like I should be telling him no and staying away. This whole relationship is wrong, and it won’t end well. I just know it. But I can’t resist him. He’s too tempting. And I’m addicted to him like a junkie that needs her next fix.

What if he holds it over my head if I turn him down? I wonder. This is liable to get out of hand.

Somehow, I doubt it. But even if he doesn’t, I feel like another hookup will only cause extreme tension in the boardroom and I don’t know if I can handle any more of that. Yet at the same time, it’s all I can think about.

I look out the tinted window of his Aston Martin as we ride through downtown, my mind racing with all sorts of thoughts. A call comes through his car speaker, the third since we started the drive, and we’ve only been driving for less than five minutes.