The CEO's Little Surprise(14)

God, he felt good.

She needed to go on a real date, obviously, with a nice man who would  treat her well and drink the wine she'd ordered. They'd have a pleasant  evening ending with a romantic nightcap at her place and then he'd  gently and attentively make love to her.

Above all, when she told him what to do, he'd do it.

"I'm okay. Thanks," she threw in before he started mimicking her again.

"I'm not okay." He bent his head to murmur into her ear. "And I like you where you are."

His breath on her skin and his hard thigh between her legs-hell, his  voice alone-ripped through her in a white-hot streak of lust.

Insanity. She needed that nice man, pronto, so she could slake this  thirst. A couple of rounds with Mr. Gentle-and-Attentive and she'd be  good for another year or so. Gage Branson wouldn't cause so much as a  blip on her sex radar.

"This is supposed to be business only," she reminded him, but her voice  cracked in the middle of the sentence and she doubted he was listening  anyway.

"Hold still."

Eyes on her hair, he reached up and plucked one chopstick from her  chignon, tossed it to the wooden slats under their feet and went for the  other one as she yelped.

"What are you doing?" she protested as her hair spilled down her back.

"I couldn't help it." His own voice broke as he threaded both hands  through the strands, winding up the locks around his fingers, a groan  rumbling in his chest that vibrated her rib cage. "Your hair. It's so  beautiful. Why do you put it up?"

"It's professiona-"

His mouth hit hers and stole the rest of her words as he kissed her  into stunned silence. Hot and wet, his tongue slid through her lips and  pleasured her relentlessly.

Tugs at her hair tilted her head back, and he took her deeper into the  sensuous haze. She lost all sense of up or down, all sense period  because, oh, yes, Gage was kissing her again and she wanted it.

The emotional tangle? Not on the agenda. If she could separate business  from pleasure, she could surely separate pleasure from love. No broken  hearts this time. She'd take a lesson from the King of Fun and have  some.

Without warning, he pushed her against the wooden post. It wasn't brick biting into her back. Close enough.

His mouth drifted to her throat as his hands untangled from her hair to  cup the back of her head, drawing her against his magic lips. She  arched into him, and a moan escaped her throat, echoing in the still  night.

All at once, his hands seemed to be everywhere, racing down her sides,  at her shoulders. Pushing down the neckline of her dress. Her breasts  sprang free of the fabric and he cupped one, bending to draw her taut  nipple into his mouth.

She gasped. Exquisite. The pulls of his mouth and tongue buckled her  knees but he had her. Yes, he did. He held her firmly in place as he  pleasured her with his talented mouth. Shutting her eyes, she let the  pleasure fork through her, damp heat gathering at her center until she  thought she would burst if he didn't...

He did. One hand snaked under her dress and found her folds beneath the  scrap of underwear. The barrier didn't exist to him. Clever fingers  danced over her burning flesh, inside. Out.

Anyone could walk by. It heightened the pleasure...somehow. She hissed  and opened wider, encouraging him to go deeper. Faster. Her breath came  quicker as he drove her relentlessly, sucking at her breast, touching  her intimately.

And then one final stroke shattered her resistance. She rode wave after  wave of release, crying out at the strength and intensity of the  pleasure he'd given her. Gage. Smart, funny, tender, amazing Gage. She'd  missed him.

That was...not good. Oh, it had been good. But somehow he'd gotten below the surface, past her emotional armor.

When she floated back down from the heavens, he was watching her. He  leaned in to set her dress back to rights, hands lingering, touching,  pleasuring, and he murmured, "Take me back to your place. I want to do  that again properly."                       
       
           



       

Again? She shook off the miasma of Gage and stared up at him, stricken  with guilt. That beautiful face stared back at her and she longed to  fall into him again without reservation, without fear. Without  complications. Without agendas.

What was she doing? This wasn't the time to be playing around with  fire, not with her career at stake and her company on the brink of  disaster. Not when she wasn't sure she could actually stay emotionally  uninvolved. She couldn't be vulnerable to him again, couldn't fathom how  she'd pick herself up if he flattened her. Could. Not.

"I...can't."

And then her throat closed, forcing her to swallow the rest.

His expression blanked and he stepped back, releasing her. "Okay."

His tone said it was anything but. He didn't press her, though, which  she was pathetically grateful for. Because if he had, he'd probably have  broken down her resistance in about four seconds.

Yeah, she was a whiz at separating business and pleasure. The moment  his flesh touched hers, all thoughts of business went out the window and  she'd forgotten about digging for his secrets entirely.

That wasn't going to work. She had to get back in the game.

* * *

Gage dropped Cass off at her house with a terse good-night.

They hadn't spoken at all after she shut him down. Apparently, she  could flip the ice-goddess switch at will, melting in his arms for a  gorgeous orgasm that nearly finished him off, as well, and then  hardening her spine right back into place.

He was slipping if that hadn't gotten him an invitation into her bed.  Cass had matured in many intriguing ways, but she'd also  grown...distant. He had to figure out how to get rid of that space  between them or he'd lose his bid for the formula. This was one  competition he could not afford to lose.

When he got back to his hotel, frustrated and alone, Arwen greeted him  at the door, leash in her mouth. He groaned. Last thing he needed right  now. "All right."

Happily, she sniffed her way in the dark to the small park across from  his hotel, zigzagging between clumps of bushes as she always did. It got  a small smile from him. He hadn't been able to send her home and  midnight walks in the park were due penance.

Unfortunately, Arwen didn't talk so he was left with his thoughts for company and they were anything but restful.

This thing with Cass was a problem. She was making him lose his focus  on the end game. He still didn't know why she'd asked him to help her or  what that silly game at dinner had been about, but one thing was for  sure-he'd fully intended to find out. That was before she'd put on that  cranberry dress and driven him to thorough distraction.

Of course, his solution to eliminating the distraction had been-and  would continue to be-burning off their mutual, insanely hot attraction  with a night of uninhibited passion. Then, with that out of the way,  they both could concentrate on the business at hand: the leak.

He hoped. He couldn't deny he wanted Cass more fiercely than he could  ever recall wanting a woman. Maybe more. He still ached with unfulfilled  release and it was an unpleasant reminder that somewhere in the middle  of all of this, getting his hands on Cass had started to eclipse getting  his hands on her formula. Somehow, his plan to remind her of what she  owed him had vanished and become a plan to reacquaint himself with Cass  as a lover.

That was an even bigger problem. He was not going home without that  formula. So far, he wasn't balancing his two agendas very well.

That changed la mañana.





Seven

"Hi, Melinda," he said easily to Fyra's receptionist the next morning. "I have a nine o'clock with Ms. Claremont."

"Good morning, Mr. Branson," she chirped. "She's expecting you."

Looked as though Cass had already cleared the decks for their leak  discussion, which was masquerading as a "consulting" gig. The cover  story had been quick thinking on his part, if he did say so himself.

He knocked on her open door. Cass was waiting for him, leaning on the  front of her desk, arms crossed over a sleek pantsuit. Chopsticks peeked  over the edge of her crown and dang if his fingers didn't curl at the  sight of them, itching to yank them out.                       
       
           



       

He tore his gaze away. Focus.

"Ready to get to work?" Cass asked coolly as if last night had never happened.

"Sure." He grinned to dispel the heavy vibe and slid into one of the  chairs on the visitor's side of the desk. No power plays today. None of  them had worked anyway.

Well...they'd worked to a degree. After all, he'd had Cass in his arms  twice last night. That was progress. Very hot, very spectacular  progress. His body sprang fully alert.

Focus, he reminded himself.