Tempting the CEO(6)

But I didn’t want to slow down. I hadn’t come back over here to slow down, and if he hadn’t gotten the message before, I wanted to be perfectly clear about it right now. Deliberately, I brought my hand to his erection—his huge erection—and he sucked in a breath. Talk about meat.

I traced the outline of him, looking down as I did so until a slight hitch in his breath made me look back up. His blue eyes were almost black, and his smile was so slight as to be no more than an upturn of one side of that beautiful mouth.

“You like?” I whispered, enthralled.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “So what are you doing here in New York, Suzy?”

Playing with your cock.

Oh no, that’s right, that wasn’t why I was here. “Work,” I said, not wanting to get into my boring old life right now any more than I wanted to give him my real name. This was fantasy. No need for airing all my mundane biographical details or trying to ferret out all his. This was a hookup, nothing more, nothing less. The exciting stress reliever that all the rest of my generation was enjoying pretty freely, from what I could tell. And this was my turn.

“What do you do for a living?” he asked, his tone a little rough as I continued to fondle him, as if he were the pasha and I were some slave girl hanging out, keeping his cock up for his amusement.

Although I hoped that eventually he’d want to put it to good use for me as well.

“Mmm? What do I do? I’m a hand model. You know, dish soap commercials.”

His smirk told me he didn’t believe it for a second. “Well, you do have unusually lovely hands.”

Forget that they were just your standard five fingers, no manicure even.

“Thanks,” I said, wiggling my fingers for emphasis.

“And very talented with them,” he observed.

“Oh yes. How about you, Fred?”

“I’m a heart surgeon.”

That gave me pause and I thought about the kid he’d mentioned, afraid we’d stumbled on to some reality. “Really?”

“No. I was just going to work in some slimy joke about wanting to play doctor with you.”

Phew.

“Actually, I’m an ad man.”

I wasn’t sure I believed that one either, but it fit a little better. “Have you done anything I might have seen?”

“I did the billboard where the sexy girl is offering the guy a cigarette and the caption says, ‘Go ahead, you’ve got to die of something.’”

I laughed.

“It was a limited distribution. I was really proud of that piece of work. But they fired me right after it.”

“Can’t say I ever saw that one.”

He groaned, losing even more of his smile, at a particularly long stroke I took, up and down.

“I’m running out of witty comebacks with you feeling me up like this. It’s kind of making me, ah”—his penis jerked in my hand—“needy.” The way he said it, a lock of that black hair falling over his eyes, made me feel a little needy too.

“Oh yeah? So have at it,” I said, breathy with anticipation.

He didn’t hesitate, but ground his lips against mine, hard, opening his mouth, making me open mine. I was so turned on I squirmed as he pushed me back against the cushions. I relinquished his lips for a minute, but no way was I letting go of that hard toy. I fumbled to open his pants as he got on top of me, and he pushed my hands away, letting me up for breath long enough to order, “Not yet.”

He kneed my legs open and gave me his full weight. God, it was so good as he pushed the heft of his erection right where I needed it. Could a person orgasm with her cotton panties and his jeans in the way? Maybe. I was very close, and I arched up against him, my hands going to his ass to pull him closer. At that, he did away with the undies, ripping them off with one fierce jerk that made me yelp. One down and one to go. With my bottom half exposed, he didn’t waste any time, shoving one long middle finger into me, his thumb flicking against my clit, sending shock waves of pleasure to my core. I gasped at how right it felt, his sure touch against me, in me, as he murmured his approval of how wet I was, how hot, weaving some magic that made me even more so.

And he did it all while he was still kissing me with that expert, all-engrossing attention. Now that was multitasking. I moved against his finger desperately and he added another one, sliding in and out, filling me, the rhythm wilder, harder. He was going to make me come before he even took his pants off. I yanked my head away from his kiss, wanting to concentrate on the building feeling, willing to pitch in to do my part, and he nipped my earlobe as I turned my head away. “Come on,” he urged in a raspy voice. “Show me how you come.”