Saving the CEO (49th Floor #1)(34)

"Cassie?" He stuck his head in a little farther. If she was napping, she'd just have to wake up. This was work, not a vacation.

No answer. Her bed was made, and in fact, there didn't seem to be anyone in the room at all.

His stomach dropped. Could she be somewhere with Junior?

Stepping fully into the room, he closed the door behind him. "Cassie?" he called, at full volume this time. "You in here?"

"Jack?" came the reply. It sounded like she was far away. "I'm outside."

He moved toward the door to the balcony, which had been left slightly  ajar. "What the hell are you doing outside? It's freezing, and … "

Oh. Oh no. He remembered Tania instructing the housekeeper to give  Cassie "the nice room." Apparently "the nice room" came with a hot tub.

There was a hot tub on her balcony, and she was inside it. Presumably naked.

Fuck.

"Jack? What are you doing here?"

He couldn't see much of her because of the steam billowing off the  surface of the water, so her voice sounded odd, disembodied. Then one  arm snaked out and felt around the edge of the tub. He spied a towel  just out of her grasp. The gentlemanly thing would be to hand it to her.

He did nothing. Just stood there while his skin heated, even in the  sub-zero air. He caught sight of a shoulder as she leaned a little over  the edge, still in search of the towel. Water poured off reddened flesh,  and his dick, which had already been making itself known, went rock  hard.

He took a step forward. He could reach the towel now. His hands closed over the fluffy white terrycloth.

He moved it out of her reach.

"Go inside, and I'll be in in a sec," she said. He thought she must be facing away from him given the way her voice was muffled.

"Okay," he said through the wall of steam. He was lying. His body had  taken over, and it was battling with his better self. His better self  was losing, because he clicked the door shut audibly behind him, making  it sound like he'd gone back inside. But he hadn't. He just kept  standing there, a fool staring at a cloud of steam, about to make a huge  mistake.                       
       
           



       

He had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from groaning when she  stood up. She had been facing away from him. As she stood and the steam  parted, it was her back his eyes rested on. She lifted her hair over her  head to wring water from it, exposing an elegant neck. Sexy shoulder  blades-who knew shoulder blades could be sexy?-and then her waist  narrowed before she widened out at the hips.

And her ass. Oh, her ass. Pink from the hot water, and so pert.  Generous. Ideal in proportion to the rest of her. His fingers started  flexing of their own accord. Christ, those ass checks were so grabbable,  each a perfect, overflowing handful.

Then she turned.

"Shit," he groaned, at exactly the same time she gasped. Her eyes  widened and one hand flew to her mouth. Yes, surprise. He was supposed  to be inside, not out here ogling her, but he didn't care anymore. It  mattered only that the shock painting her features give way to something  else. He didn't want surprise.

He wanted … yes, there it was. Desire. She caught her lower lip with her  top teeth and let out a little sigh. He let his eyes slide down her  front, lingering on her criminally gorgeous breasts, her rounded hips,  the dark V of curls where her thighs met. Every inch of her shimmered as  the afternoon light hit her wet skin.

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, suspended like ice  statues in the arctic air. He wasn't sure who made the first move, just  that suddenly they were launching themselves at each other, and he was  dragging her out of the tub and back into her room.

"You'll get wet," she said, even as she wrapped her legs around his  waist, soaking his jeans with the rivers of water running off her body.

He didn't bother answering in words, just crashed his mouth down on hers  and let himself gather those handfuls of ass. The groan that ripped  from his throat sounded totally alien to him, calling to mind torture as  much as pleasure. It triggered an answering moan from Cassie, who threw  her head back in clear invitation.

He licked his way down her neck, more quickly than he perhaps should. He  couldn't resist the siren call of those pink, now rock-hard nipples.  When he took one in his mouth, she cried out and pushed him toward the  bed, shoving him down and climbing on top of him. He struggled to keep  her breast in his mouth the whole time and, once they were horizontal,  both breasts dangling above him, he used his hands to knead them, too.

When she responded by snatching them away, he growled. But she'd pulled  back just enough to undo his fly. He lifted his hips off the bed, and  she slid his pants and underwear off in one swoop. Then-oh, God-she  straddled him.

"I don't have any condoms," she whispered. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. He didn't either. Not even back in his  room. Because she was right. This was not supposed to happen. He let out  a howl of frustration as she rubbed herself over the tip of his cock.  She was impossibly wet already.

"Have you been tested for everything?" she whispered. "Are you clean?"

"Yes, but-"

"I am, too." She plunged down on him.

"Oh, fuck!" he shouted, his head nearly exploding as she took him in, nothing between them but flesh on fire.

"My period is due any day," she whispered.

She must be implying that she wasn't fertile at the moment. Even so,  this was a mistake. For so many reasons. He tried to say they should  stop, to push her off. What came out, though, was "I'll pull out."

She nodded and pushed herself up onto her knees and then plunged back down.

Oh my God. Jack had always been a religious user of condoms. Aside from a  few fumbling attempts with high school girlfriends who'd been on the  pill, there was always-always-a layer of latex between him and anyone  else in his bed. He would call it a rule, but it was so much common  sense it didn't even rate rule status. He couldn't afford any mistakes.  So he made sure he never made any.

But Jesus fucking Christ, how was he ever going to go back? Cassie rode  him, and at the bottom of every stroke she ground into him, tipping  forward and circling her hips a little so her clit ground against him.

He reached up and pulled her head down for a kiss, needing to slow the  pace so things didn't end just as they were beginning. From this angle,  she couldn't lever her hips up as effectively. He'd been aiming for a  little mercy, but when she opened her mouth over his, it was just as bad  as when she was riding him. Tangling his fingers in her damp hair, he  plunged his tongue into her mouth, wanting to gobble up her cinnamon  lips. He couldn't get enough. There would never be enough.                       
       
           



       

He pushed her away, and she whimpered in protest. He had to get on top so he could pull out when the time came.

"Come back," she breathed. He flipped her and paused for a moment to control his audible panting.

She must have thought he was reconsidering, because her brow furrowed and she said, "Please."

"Say my name," he whispered. Suddenly he needed to hear it on her lips,  like he had the last time they were together at his house. If this was  the last time, he needed to memorize what it sounded like when she  breathed his name, voice shaky with desire.

She didn't hesitate. "Jack," she said. "Jack, please."

It almost undid him. He thrust into her, and she threw her head back and  bit her lip. It wasn't going to be long, the feeling of her heat  directly on his skin nearly blistering him. He pressed a thumb down on  her clit, not wanting to get too far ahead of her.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, and he needn't have worried about pacing,  because suddenly she was contracting around him, shuddering all around  his cock, her whole body quaking in his arms.

"Unnnh," he groaned, using all his willpower to press himself back up onto his elbows.

"Don't pull out," she whispered. "You don't have to."

It was like there was an unbreakable magnetic force keeping their hips  together. Moving an inch out of her felt like moving lead. But he had  to, before he got utterly lost in the waves of pleasure tearing through  him.

"Jesus," he bit out. It was going to be too late. He heaved, rearing back and spilling on her belly-mostly.

Shit.

 …

Cassie couldn't bring herself to regret it. How could you regret the  best sex of your life? She did regret that they had only been sprawled  out on the bed, silent and breathing heavily, for two minutes before  there was a rap on the door, effectively dashing her hopes that there  would be a round two in the hot tub. Maybe real regrets would come  later, but right now she wanted to throttle whoever was at the door.