Tempting the CEO(5)
He ushered me to one of the sofas facing the panoramic view of the lit-up city, and we sat side by side. He handed me a drink. “It’s champagne. You might not go for beer, but everybody likes a little bubbly, right?”
It was the cool, dry version, expensive of course, and I sipped while he watched me. “It’s good. But it’ll have to be stronger to take the buzz off the coffee I downed today.”
“So caffeine overload was behind all that tugging on your towel? I thought you were tormenting me.”
“Neither. I was nervous at being around a strange guy half naked and all.”
“I take it from that comment you’re not into this kind of thing?”
“No, usually I keep my clothes on and just nod politely in the hall to my next-door neighbor.”
He laughed and I scowled, continuing, “I’ve got to warn you I’m probably not your usual hookup.” It was sort of freeing to drop the pretense and discuss it so openly.
“Why? I find you very attractive.” He trailed his fingers along my jaw, causing a tingling sensation. “I have a weakness for gorgeous women with a good sense of humor, especially if they’re spontaneous. The combo makes me defenseless against their wiles. They always seem to be able to have their way with me.”
Something about his devilish smile made me think it was almost certainly the other way around.
And I guess I should have said thanks for the compliment, except I didn’t like to focus too much on external looks. Besides, I felt there was a big “but” just hanging out there.
“But—”
I coughed.
“And I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an asshole—but usually the women I’m with are a little more, well, eager, I guess you’d say. At this point anyway.”
“What point?”
“Alone in my hotel room after coming in for a drink. Especially if they start out in a towel.”
“Most women get right down to it, do they?”
The mocking tone between us felt mellow and worldly and kind of sexy.
His thumb brushed my lower lip. “Usually. But it’s totally up to you how fast we go. Or whether we do.”
Whether? Who was kidding whom here? I knew it was a foregone conclusion when I decided to come back for a drink. Unless he started drooling or pulled out a whip and chains—I don’t really mind a little fun on that front but I’d taken all the spanking I could at work all day already—Mr. Gorgeous Guy was good to go.
He leaned in for a kiss, just the slightest bit of tongue, and I trembled a little, feeling it right between my legs.
“Maybe I should have gotten around to this before,” he whispered, “but what’s your name?”
Chapter Two
“Suzy,” I lied, and he raised an eyebrow.
“No, it’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re not a Suzy.”
“I’ve got news for you—I didn’t name myself.”
“If you were Susan, you’d say Susan, not Suzy.”
“Would I?”
He cupped the curve of my neck and was still so close his breath brushed against my mouth.
I wasn’t going to tell him my real name. But I wanted his.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Fred,” he answered, and I laughed.
“You are not!”
“You’re the one who said we don’t name ourselves, Suzy.”
“If you were a Frederick, you’d be Rick or Ricky. You’re too cool for Fred.”
“I don’t feel particularly cool right now.”
“I doubt that. I’m sure you’re a lot more at home with this scenario than I am.”
“Maybe, but don’t expect acrobatics in bed,” he teased. “I’m a meat-and-potatoes guy.”
The phone in my pocket buzzed with a text, and I ignored it as he played with the fingers of one of my hands, kissing a fingertip here and there and sucking lightly. He was so good at it, I could think of a few other things he might apply that suction technique to. I slid my arms around his neck, my fingers sifting through the silky dark hair above his collar, and he nuzzled the curve of my shoulder, running his own fingers through the strands of my hair, the ponytail holder long gone. His lips wandered to the pulse at my throat, my collarbone, until he came to the cleavage above my camisole and tugged it lower, his mouth warm and wet on the bare skin he uncovered. Everywhere he touched came alive. His breath was fast and my own even faster, and I wanted more.
When he made it back up to my mouth, I ran my tongue along his lower lip, nipping, drawing him in as he drew me, ready to climb on his lap or crawl beneath him or roll around on the expensive carpet. In a word, get right down to it. He pulled back with a shaky laugh, as if slowing us down.