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Saving the CEO(42)

By:Jenny Holiday


Throwing a bath sheet over her shoulders, he used it to pull her to him—so they were both wrapped in the white cotton—and nipped the side of her neck, which was reddened from the heat of the shower. She grabbed his ass and he kissed her, hoping she could taste on his lips how delicious she was.

“I thought you were going to—”

“Shut up,” he said, kissing her again but propelling her so she walked backward into the bedroom, both of them still wrapped in the bath sheet. He reached for a condom as he tipped her back on the bed, displaying the whole mass of her pink, damp skin. Kneeling over her, he picked up where he’d left off in the shower, licking her clit as he unwrapped and rolled on the condom. When she raised her knees to her chest, he kneeled, hooking her legs over his shoulders, and slid inside her.

Maybe it was the residual heat of the shower, but she was a furnace. “Oh, God,” he choked out, fearing that once he began to move, it would all be over. But he couldn’t not move. Something inside him took over, forcing his hips to move faster and faster as he slammed into her, losing himself in the unbelievably hot sight of her moaning and shaking her head from side to side, dark damp hair whipping through the air.

She screamed then, and the wave of sensation he’d thought was going to crush him became almost unendurable when she began clenching around him. Then she went silent, her head stilled, and she focused the shattered gemstones of her eyes on his. It was as if there was a silent command in them, and his body responded, sending sharp surges of pleasure through him that went on and on.

“That wasn’t fair,” she whispered when he was finally done coming. “I was supposed to be in charge.”

He was glad she was competitive, he thought a few minutes later, when they were sprawled out across his king-size bed, staring up at the sky visible through his skylight. He’d never had a lover per se, meaning a woman he’d slept with repeatedly. He’d always wanted to avoid that kind of…entanglement, to use her word. But he did pride himself on being skilled in the bedroom, on making sure his one-night stands left their one-nights with smiles on their faces. But this playful tussle for control with Cassie helped their…thing feel like a game. And it was important to remember that that’s what it was—a little exercise in breaking rules. A temporary suspension of what experience had taught him was the optimal way to structure everything. She was skeptical of his rules, he knew, but without them he never would have had the discipline to build Winter Enterprises. Without them he’d probably still be trying to please his father.

She sighed. A sweet, satiated sigh that stroked his masculine ego. He loved the way she looked after he fucked her senseless. She flushed so easily, and her hair looked like she’d been in a monsoon. Damn, she’d been right about one thing. If the rules were going to be broken, they might as well blow them to smithereens in the time they had available. His dick stirred. Jesus, with her he was like a teenager.

She turned to him, catching her bottom lip with her top teeth. She looked like she wanted to eat him. Damn, he was lucky, if only for two more nights. “Do you have a printer?”

“Huh?” She might as well have thrown a bucket of cold water over him. He shook his head. It was hard keeping up with her sometimes.

“A printer.” She scrambled to sit up, and he struggled to wrest his eyes from her spectacular breasts and pay attention. “Those files you sent me—it would be easier if I could print them, spread them out, and look at them all side by side. Mine at home is out of toner.”

He tried to hide the fact that it took him a second to catch up to the radically new topic. Leaning over, he scooped up an iPad from the floor next to the bed. “You can print from this if you want. But you sure you want to do this now?”

“I’m too wired to sleep.”

“I can think of other things we could do to pass the time.”

She shook her head. “I’m like a dog with a bone with this.” She grabbed the iPad. “Carl is going down.”

He hopped out of bed, went to his dresser, and tossed her a T-shirt. “At least put this on.”

She rolled her eyes. At least he hadn’t said what he was really thinking, which was for God’s sake, cover yourself, woman. He left her pulling the shirt over her head and ran downstairs to retrieve her papers from the printer and to throw together some snacks. She might have eaten at Edward’s, but that was hours ago, and surely someone so dedicated to vanquishing his enemies deserved snacks.

Back upstairs, he hopped into bed with a book, leaving her alone for the next hour, aside from feeding her the odd almond. But when three o’clock rolled around, he set his book aside and rolled into her line of vision.