Saving the CEO (49th Floor #1)(22)

"You smoke?" she said as he mounted the steps behind her. "Gross." She  smiled inwardly. One benefit of this whole "rules" situation was that  she didn't have to worry about what she said. If you weren't doing that  "getting to know you" thing with the hope a relationship might result,  you didn't have to worry about making a good impression.

So she followed that with, "I would never have expected you to live here."

Stubbing out the cigar, he said, "I don't really smoke. Maybe once every  couple of months when the mood strikes." He opened the front door and  gestured for her to precede him inside. "And as for the house whose  honor you've just insulted, I love this place."

"I can see why," she said, registering, as she took in the amazing  interior, that this was the first time she'd ever heard him express an  unreservedly positive opinion about something. "It's beautiful." And it  was. The place must have been gutted back to the studs and rebuilt-it  looked like a spread in Architectural Digest. They'd stepped into a  living room with a huge roaring fire at the far end. The wall that  adjoined the attached house was exposed brick and sported an enormous  black and white photograph of the Toronto skyline in a rainstorm. The  house was narrow but deep, and at the back of the main floor she could  see across a gleaming marble island into a small, but no doubt,  luxuriously appointed kitchen. "It's just that I was expecting more … "

"Rosedale?" he supplied, naming the city's wealthiest neighborhood.

"Yes. Or some kind of luxury condo."

"I wanted to be able to walk to work. It's less than twenty minutes from here."

"And Edward's is about halfway in between."

"Exactly, which is why I got into the habit of coming for dinner on my  way home. Except, of course, for Tuesdays, when I used to have dinner  with my betrayer. You know, the Judas Iscariot of the real estate  world." He made a self-deprecating face and took her coat, and she  couldn't help but admire his ass as he turned to hang it. "Anyway, those  mansions in Rosedale are too big for one person." She couldn't  disagree, but still, this beautiful but cozy place made her wonder if  the impression she'd formed of him wasn't entirely correct. She'd been  surprised by how non-sterile his office had been, too. "Not to worry,  though," he said, taking her hand and drawing her farther inside. "I  have this place tricked out."

She followed him to the kitchen and took a seat at the island as he indicated.

"You hungry?"

"I ate at the restaurant," she said, taking in the smooth dark wooden  floor-to-ceiling cabinets lining two walls, concealing, she assumed,  dishes, food, even appliances, for none were visible.

"Scotch?"

"Had one of those before I left Edward's, too." She grinned. She'd needed the liquid courage to get into the cab.

"Want another?"

"No, thank you." She hoped she wouldn't have to explain why she rarely  had more than one drink at a time-he'd seen her mother, after all.

Standing on the other side of the island, he turned and lowered his  elbows to the counter, propping his chin in his hands and gazing at her  with those ice blue eyes. He was wearing a long sleeve navy V-neck  T-shirt, and she could see a few golden hairs peeking out of the  neckline. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to lick them. But  probably she was here to discuss the finances. Not to lick his chest. Or  at least not until after they'd discussed the finances.

"Heard from your mother?"

"Huh?" That was the last thing she'd expected him to say.

"You said the usual pattern is that you hear from her a few times after she reappears until she really goes."

"Yes. I mean, no. That's right, but I haven't heard from her. Haven't  been home, though, since I left for work mid-afternoon. For all I know  she's sitting outside my door right now."                       
       
           



       

He nodded. "I think you should stay here tonight. Just don't be home when she comes."

She was touched he would offer, but it felt weird. He didn't seem like  the kind of guy who looked after people like this. There was probably a  rule about it. "That's nice of you, but I can't avoid my apartment  forever. Or my mother." She summoned a wry smile. "Alas."

"It's not nice of me." His eyes narrowed. "I'm not a nice person."

"Um, okay." Those eyes-they were wicked blue sapphires.

"I've broken the rules for you, Cassie."

She raised her eyebrows. She'd broken a few for him, too, but refrained  from saying so. "Which rule would that be? You're going to have to be  more specific."

"No relationships."

"I told you we're not having a relationship. We're having an-"

"Entanglement." He waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever you call it, we  are having a kind of relationship. One that has an expiration date.  Thursday morning, to be precise."

None of this was news, so Cassie just kept her eyebrows raised.

"Today is Monday," he said.

"You have a talent for stating the obvious."

He acted as if he hadn't heard her. "Tomorrow is the company Christmas  party, which is a drag, but my presence is required. The next night is  Wednesday. That leaves two more nights."

"Until we're off to Muskoka," Cassie said, leaving the rest unspoken. And then it's over.

"That leaves two nights," he said, still acting like she wasn't part of the conversation, "for sex."

She recoiled a little. He was only saying what she'd been thinking, but  it was a little offensive to hear it stated so plainly and mercenarily.

"Two nights of the most mind-blowing sex imaginable."

Well, okay, maybe not so terribly offensive. She bit her lip and ducked  her head, no longer able to withstand the icy-blue heat of his gaze.

"And you have a tiny bed and a crazy mother." He tipped her chin up. She  wanted to grab the finger that was currently burning her chin and stuff  it in her mouth. No, strike that-she wanted to vault over the island  and jump him.

Forcing her to look at him, he didn't change his expression. It was still that neutral blue ocean. "I rest my case."

She swallowed. "I suppose you have a big bed."

One corner of his mouth quirked up. "I have an extremely big bed."

She feigned a casual shrug. "Well, if you're going to break a rule, you  might as well be as efficient as possible and break it thoroughly."

"Thoroughly and often."

"Where is your bedroom?" He started to get up, but she held up a hand. "Don't show me, tell me."

"Third floor."

He stood on the kitchen side of the island, so she was closer to the  stairs. She leaned back slowly as if considering, lazily stretching her  arms.

Then she turned and bolted for the stairs, shouting, "First one to the top gets to be in charge!"

 …

The nice thing about "losing" to Cassie, thought Jack, while he still  had the ability to string together a coherent thought, was that it  always managed to work in his favor. The two times she'd won control in  this silly but crazily erotic game they played, he'd ended up with her  lips wrapped around his cock. She seemed to like winning on principle  more than she cared about how things played out afterward.

Knowing he was going to lose their little race, he'd given her a few  minutes' head start, and damned if he hadn't come upstairs to find her  naked inside his shower.

"I love this shower," she said, somehow managing to make herself understood with his cock in her mouth.

He wasn't in the mood for talking, so he just let his head fall back  against the glass and lost himself in the sensation of her lips gliding  up and down his shaft as her hands played with his balls.

"It's so big," she said a few seconds later.

She stopped moving then, though she still held him in her mouth, and  there was a delay while they both processed the double entendre, which  he was pretty sure had been unintentional.

"I was totally talking about you!" she squealed as he pulled her up to standing.

"You little minx," he growled, falling to his knees in front of her. "I'm going to make you stop talking."

"Though this is a big shower," she said, laughing. "It's almost as big as-"

He licked her like an ice cream cone, which had the desired effect of  halting her speech. He was a little sorry the shower diluted her musky  sweet taste. Swirling his tongue around her clit, he stroked her  impossibly soft folds with his fingers, eventually letting one of them  slide inside her.