Talking Dirty with the CEO(41)
“No need to be rude. I’m just calling to remind you about Andrew’s party.”
Shit. That’s right. She’d forgotten. “Oh, uh…”
“I hope you haven’t forgotten. The invite is so late because I just wasn’t happy with the design, and the designer was being terribly difficult about it. Anyway, it’s done now and you can expect it soon. I just wanted to know the name of your plus one.”
Christie frowned. “My plus one?”
Her mother sighed. “Christie, do pay attention. Your memory is hopeless. You told me last week you’d be coming and that you’d be bringing someone.”
That’s right. She had. Conjured a boyfriend up from thin air. What a freaking idiot. “Yeah, about that, Mum. He’s rather busy and I don’t think—”
“Oh, but you must bring him, darling. I want to meet him. See if he’s good enough for our little girl.”
Her mother’s false joviality made her cringe. “I’ll ask him. I’m not sure—”
“You do actually have a boyfriend, don’t you?” her mother asked, deceptively casual. “You’re not just pretending? “
Christie swallowed. Set her jaw. “Of course I’m not pretending. Why would I do that?”
Helene laughed. “Oh, people do all sorts of silly things in an effort to prove themselves. Anyway, what’s his name, darling? I want to put it on the invite.”
“Joseph,” Christie said hoarsely. “His name is Joseph.”
“Lovely. I’ll put him down then.” Her mother babbled on about something else but Christie stopped listening.
Crap. What had she done? Joseph wasn’t her boyfriend and he certainly wouldn’t be coming as her plus one to Andrew’s stupid engagement party. What on earth had possessed her to give his name to her mother?
Ah well, what did it matter? When the time came she’d tell her mother Joseph wouldn’t be able to make it after all. No big deal. As long as he never found out she’d been using his name in vain, everything would be fine.
Five minutes after she hung up, her phone beeped again.
She peeked at it. Please God, do not let it be her mother.
It wasn’t. It was a text from Joseph.
What’s your size? How tall are you? And what kind of music do you like to listen to?
Okay, those were weird questions. Shrugging, she texted him her height and size then added,
Gothic metal. But what’s this got to do with bike riding?
A minute later she got a response.
It’s a surprise. Gothic metal huh? You’re hard-core, Naughtygirl.
She grinned. Hard-core. Yeah, she was pretty hard-core.
I am. And don’t you forget it, Love Machine.
Who cared about her damn mother and the stupid engagement party? She was going mountain biking with Joseph Ashton. Who thought she was hard-core.
It didn’t get much better than that.
…
Joseph stopped at the top of the hill and looked back down. Christie was pedaling in a determined way up the slope toward him, her face red beneath her bike helmet, breathing hard.
He felt a tiny bit bad for convincing her to come with him, but not that much. Sad fact of the matter was that he’d gotten a kick out of presenting her with the stack of Lycra that was the cycling gear he’d bought for her. Her eyes had just about popped out of her head in horror.
But she’d put on the clothes without complaint. And even though she’d dubiously eyed the bike he’d rented for her when they’d gotten to the forest and the bike trails, she’d climbed on without hesitation and had managed to stay on without wobbling.
From down the slope came a curse. Christie had gotten off her bike and was pushing it instead. He watched as she came up the last bit, trying not to smile.
“You…said it…would be…flat,” she panted when she reached him. Her glare held enough heat to set him on fire.
“It is,” he replied, biting down on his grin. “At the start.”
There was a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead, chestnut curls hanging damply from underneath her helmet. It reminded him of how she’d looked in his arms the night before and an arrow of pure lust pierced him. She had no idea how sexy she was in the bike pants, either. They revealed her long legs in all their slender glory, leading up to the gentle curve of her buttocks. He wanted to run his hands up them, stroke the smooth skin of her thighs, hear her breath catch…
“How much farther?” She wiped her forehead.
He was being mean and he knew it. Pity teasing her was so much fun. “This is just the beginning.” He leaned forward over his handlebars. “There’s another hour’s hard riding ahead of you.” And at her groan, he grinned and added, “Had enough already? Shall we stop?”