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Working Stiff:Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1)(32)

By:Blair Babylon


Rox tried to stare at him, but so little starlight filtered down to him that she could just see the faint outline of his face.

Was he being serious?

So much emotion choked his voice that he must be.

Rox reached down deep and told him the truth. "Cash, I can't think  straight when I look at you sometimes because my ovaries go into  overdrive, but you're also smart, and you're ethical, and you're funny.  And you're kind to my cats, even if you do spoil the crap out of them.  Yes, you're gorgeous, you're so gorgeous that I catch my breath when I  look at you, but you were there for me when I needed someone. That's so  much more important to me."

"Then this was all so that we could work together."

"It was so you wouldn't screw me and break my heart."

While she spoke, his other arm sneaked around her, and he held her tightly against his body.

She should push him away. She shouldn't do this.

Rox ran her hands up his firm chest. "I couldn't stand it, if we slept  together and then you ghosted on me, just dumping me over the side like  that."

"And if I promise not to?"

"Oh, Cash. I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

"You are not ‘all the girls.' You took care of me when I needed someone.  You are the only person I can rely on at the office, especially now  while I'm trying to figure out if Valerie has been selling out our  clients."

"I'm glad we're friends."

He bent, whispering, "Working with you every day has been a temptation. I  stop myself a dozen times a day from reaching out to touch your hair,  to bend and kiss your neck, to slam you up against a wall and rip your  clothes off. Why did you tell me now that you aren't married?"

Oh, yeah. This wasn't fraught with all the feels or anything. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

Think of something. "I didn't want to lie anymore."

"Why tonight? Why not tomorrow or in the office sometime?" His hand  stroked over her hair. "Why in my house, near midnight, in the dark,  when we're both a little drunk?"                       
       
           



       

Rox slid her arms around his waist, feeling the strong muscles around  his middle and back. "Because I liked it when we ‘slipped' last night."

His voice was even lower, huskier. "Me, too."

"And I'm here, and you're here, and we're alone. At the office, I'm the plainest, chubbiest girl in the room."

She saw him bending, and his warm lips found hers in the dark. He kissed  her slowly, barely opening his lips until she did, too. When she slid  her arms around his neck, he deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue  against hers.

He backed off, whispering against her skin as his lips ran over her  neck, "You are beautiful, Rox. I don't want to ever hear you say again  that you're not."

"But I'm not-"

His mouth covered hers again, and his fingers gripped her ass, digging in. His arm around her waist tightened.

When he broke off the kiss again, he growled near her ear, "You are  beautiful. You're voluptuous and succulent, and I want to lick every  inch of you. If I hear you say again that you are not, I will turn you  over my knee and spank your bare bottom."

Rox felt her eyes widen, but it was too dark to see anything even with  her eyes open wide. None of the other women in the office had mentioned  spanking or anything like that, but no one had been forthcoming with  details, either.

Just knowing looks.

Oh, Lord. He must be totally into the kinky stuff. He was European,  which surely meant that he was depraved to begin with, and he must have  gotten tired of all that normal sex stuff with women years ago.

What had she gotten herself into?

His voice sounded strangled in his throat when he said, "You swear to God that you're not married."

She shook her head in the dark, her hair swishing around her neck and shoulders. "I'm not married. I've never been married."

His arm withdrew from her waist and stroked down her arm to find her  hand. He led her backward, almost like dancing, until he turned them  both and pressed her shoulder to make her sit down.

In the dark, he had somehow found one of the chaise lounges, and Rox sat on the thick cushion.

Wait, did he want to get frisky out here on the deck, lying on one of  the reclining deck chairs? She wasn't even sure how to do that. The deck  chairs were strong, probably teak, but she needed a wide bed for her  chubby butt.

No way. Someone might see them, even though the other houses were far  away. Someone might fly over in a helicopter or something. "Cash, let's  go inside."

"Let's stay here." His voice was deeper, hoarser. "The sun won't be up for hours."

There was, truly, no light. The fishhook moon was sinking into the ocean, darkening the sky and deck even more.

The night around them was very dark. They wouldn't be able to see each other at all.

She knew that he wasn't shy about his body, at least the upper half of  it that he showed off during impromptu basketball games on the roof of  the parking structure. Those black tattoos that licked up his side  weren't meant to be hidden. And he had no reason to be coy about what  was in his pants, either. Good gravy, when she had unzipped him the  night before, she had never seen one so big before. Or thick.

The solid darkness around them almost made her dizzy, and she spread her  hands on the cushion of the chaise lounge to orient herself.

Warm flesh closed around her ankle, and Cash moved her leg to the other  side of the chaise lounge so that she straddled the chair.

Under her legs, the cushion sank, and she could feel Cash sit down  across from her. His hands closed around her face, and his lips touched  hers, gently kissing her. He stroked her legs again, lifting them, and  positioned her knees over his thighs. His hands explored her hips,  petting and grasping her legs through her fuzzy pajamas while he kissed  her. His lips caressed hers, gently waiting while she responded, while  his hands explored her body in the dark.

Rox could barely feel herself breathing, and she reached to run her  hands from his wrists, over the ropes of muscle around his arms, and up  to his broad shoulders. She was as blind as if she had a hood over her  head.

"I can't see you." Her fingers trailed up his neck.

He caught her hand and kissed her palm, his lips warm against her hand. "You don't need to."

The surf crashed and roared far below them, and salt spray misted the air.

He pressed her hand to his chest. Under his thin tee shirt, his heavy  muscles warmed her fingers, and she could feel his heart thumping fast  inside.

His fingers moved up her ribs, almost tickling, and then dipped  underneath her pajama top to touch her skin. She sucked a breath in when  his cool fingers touched her, but he pressed his hands to her sides.  His hands were warmer, and he pushed her pajama top up, stripping it off  over her head.                       
       
           



       

Rox looked around again, but the darkness was only broken by the glitter  of stars overhead and their very faint light. With the moon fully down  now, she could barely see the two slants of Cash's cheekbones and the  center ridge of his nose. He was almost a dark cutout against the starry  sky.

He traced down her shoulders, finding the swells of her breasts, and she  heard him hum for a moment as he ran his fingertips over the lace on  top and the silk on the bottom of the cups.

Cash said, "I can hardly wait to see this."

"We could go inside," she said, but her knees were weak from his hands  on her. She probably couldn't have stood up anyway. "You could see it  now."

"Next time," he murmured. "I can almost see it. What color is it?"

"Black silk. Ivory lace." Her voice sounded breathy.

"Oh, God," he groaned. One of his hands slipped around her boob, and the  other nudged her shoulder, pushing her back against the raised back of  the chaise lounge.

As she reclined, he leaned with her, nuzzling her breasts through the  lace, his warm breath and hot tongue on her. His tee shirt brushed her  stomach, and Rox grabbed the soft cotton, pulling it up and over his  head. She threw it aside, near where she hoped he had thrown her top.  Warmth flowed over her, his body radiating heat.

He ducked his head back down to her breasts and slid his hand behind  her, releasing her bra and adding it to the unseen pile beside them.

Without her bra, he opened his mouth and sucked at her breasts, mouthing  her, biting, then licking her to soothe the sting. In minutes, she was  squirming, panting, but his body was between her legs and she already  couldn't get away from him.

She ran her hands through his hair, the longer strands trailing through her fingers, and down near his cheekbones.