Talking Dirty with the CEO Page 4
Christie crossed the room and bent to examine it. Oh yeah, it was a Karlsson all right. Beautiful. She reached out a hand.
“Please don’t touch that.”
Christie frowned. Her hand dropped and she turned around.
Joseph stood just behind her, carrying a couple of glasses of wine. “It’s a very expensive stereo.”
“Hey, I get it.” She straightened. “A Karlsson Series 6. Voted hi-fi system of the decade by Pure Tone magazine last year. Currently delivers one of the lowest levels of distortion ever recorded. It has sixteen separate transformers, high-speed rectifiers, also ultra-low filtering impedance capacitors. Essentially its excess noise cancellation abilities are the best in the world. Only twenty were ever made and it’s now a collector’s item.”
He stared at her as if she’d just grown another head. “I guess you’ve seen one before, then.”
Christie grinned at him. “Are you kidding me? I love stereos.”
Unexpectedly, Joseph grinned back. “So do I.”
And for a second a small moment of connection passed between them. A moment when they weren’t anonymous strangers who’d met in a chat room. A moment when they understood each other as if they’d known each other for years.
“You want to know something?” He put the glasses down on a nearby coffee table. “You’re the first woman I’ve had here who’s even noticed my stereo.”
“Oh, uh, really?” Discomfort twisted inside her, the moment of connection fading. Perhaps because it made her think about just what kind of women a guy like him dated.
Supermodels probably. Or rich heiresses.
Or blonde ad executives if you’re Greg.
Definitely not geek girls who found dates in online game forums.
Christie swallowed. A lump of something heavy sat on her chest and she felt sick.
Joseph frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yup,” she said, lying like a rug. “Um, c-can I use your bathroom for a sec?” She wasn’t running away. Not at all. She just needed some space.
“Sure. Down the hallway on your left.”
Christie walked down the hallway, trying to calm the sick feeling.
This was crazy. Where had this awful discomfort come from? It didn’t make any sense.
The bathroom was a temple to hygiene, all pristine white tiles and chrome fittings, but she barely noticed, the heavy thing sitting in the center of her chest getting heavier.
Crossing over to the vanity, she put her hands on the marble and closed her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths.
God, who was she kidding? She wasn’t Naughtygirl. She wasn’t naughty in any way, shape, or form. She was a tech hack who liked computers. And here she was with the hottest guy on the planet, all set to “explore their chemistry,” and where was she? In the bloody bathroom feeling nearly ill with doubt.
Man, what was wrong with her?
Christie opened her eyes and stared at herself in the mirror. Color burned on her cheeks, so intense her freckles turned pink. Her hair had started coming out of the messy bun and now looked like a bird’s nest. Her mascara had smudged, too.
You’ve never been very good with men, have you? Helene’s voice whispered inside her head, insidious.
Christie scowled at herself in the mirror.
No. No way. Her mother didn’t know jack. And she hadn’t spent the last eight years making her own life, living on her own terms, just to fall back into old patterns now.
She’d sworn this date would be amazing. That this date would be for her.
She was Naughtygirl. All she had to do was act like it.
…
Joseph paced around the lounge, antsy and restless. She’d been in that bathroom a long time, hadn’t she? Why? Women’s problems again? Or had he upset her with his quip about other women and his stereo? He’d meant it as a joke, not intending to make her uncomfortable.
Cursing, he made another circuit of the room.
Christ, he hoped he hadn’t blown it, because he hadn’t met a woman he’d wanted quite so much in a very long time.
Naughtygirl was just so…different.
Ovine, not bovine.
Since when had he had a date who corrected him on his sheep terminology? Or on anything, for that matter. Since never. And that was even before the whole stereo conversation. He’d never had a date talk about excess noise cancellation before, either.
And hey, might as well admit to the fact that he totally had the hots for her physically, too.
Long russet lashes and smoky green eyes. A soft red mouth. Stretchy black dress pulling tight around slender thighs. Her elegant neck left bare by thick, upswept hair, small neat ears and delicate, pointed jawline.
So sexy. Even her awkwardness appealed to him, suggesting a sensuality just waiting to be discovered.
Joseph stopped in the middle of the room, staring down the hallway toward the bathroom.
Perhaps she was sick. Perhaps there was something majorly wrong. Perhaps he should be going to see if she was okay.
Not stopping to think, he just headed straight down the hallway to the bathroom. The door was open so he walked right in.
She was standing in front of the vanity, her gaze flicking to his in the mirror as he entered. There was something vulnerable about her, about the look on face. Something uncertain. It hit him like a punch to the gut.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re not okay, are you?”
She looked away. “I’m fine.”
No, she wasn’t. Any idiot could see that. “Then why did you leave?”
Naughtygirl turned from the mirror. “Would you believe women’s problems again?”
“Not really, no.”
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m just…”
“Just what? Look, if you don’t want to take this further we don’t have to.” Fighting his own disappointment, he made himself say it. “I could take you home if you’d prefer.”
Her head came up at that, her eyes wide. “You really want to take me home?”
“No. I don’t. I’m just saying that if you want to leave, then you can.”
For a long moment she stared at him. “But…I don’t want to leave.”
Joseph stepped into the bathroom. She didn’t move as he came closer, just kept staring at him.
He halted mere inches from her. “Good,” he said, his voice thick. “Because, honey, I really don’t want you to go.”
She blinked, white teeth sinking into her luscious lower lip. Nibbling on it. And he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her mouth, wondering how she would taste. What sounds she would make if he bit her there.
And the look in her eyes changed, became determined. As if she’d made some sort of decision.
Before he could move, before he’d even had time to think, she’d closed the gap between them, rising up on her toes to press her mouth to his.
Electricity shot through him. As though he’d been plugged into a power socket, the current shooting straight to his groin. Jesus Christ. He’d never felt anything like it.
He reached for her but she was already pulling away, her face gone bright red, the sound of her breathing loud in the confined space of the bathroom. Staring at him in utter amazement.
So she’d felt it, too. God, they didn’t just have chemistry, they had the whole bloody science curriculum.
“Oh, I’m s-sorry,” she began. “I should never have done—”
But Joseph didn’t care what she should never have done. He only had one thought in his head: he had to kiss her again. Unable to stop himself, he took her face between his hands and covered her mouth with his. She shuddered, a small, shocked sound escaping from her.
Champagne. She tasted like champagne. And she was delicious.
He kissed her harder, deeper, exploring the heat of her mouth. She gave a soft groan, melting into him, her hands on his chest, responding to his kiss with the kind of abandon reserved only for lovers, not strangers who’d only just met
. It took his breath away. The scent of her flooded his senses, lavender and underlying that, a sensual musky smell that made him think of arousal, of sex.
Helpless desire grabbed him by the throat. His hands found her hips, tugging her tall, slender body hard against him. The feel of her was incredible. So warm.
She sighed, her arms around his neck as though she never intended to let him go, beginning to kiss him back uncertainly, as if she didn’t know quite what she was doing.
It was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.
The kiss began to burn out of control and it was only when he felt something soft against his hands that he realized he’d pulled her hair out of her bun and that it was coming down, raw silk against his skin. He pushed his fingers into the softness of it, gripping tightly as he slid a hand up from her hip, cupping one small, round breast. Then he circled her nipple with his thumb, feeling it harden beneath the stretchy fabric of her dress.
She gasped, arching into his hand, slender body shivering against his. So he did it again, circling then brushing over the hardened point with the pad of his thumb as he kissed her.
“J-Joseph,” she murmured against his mouth. “That feels…oh…”
“Good?” He eased her back against the vanity, pressing the aching hardness of his groin against the softness of hers.
“Yes….so good…” Her hands moved against his chest, curling into the fabric of his T-shirt. “I want…I want…more…”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. Sliding his arms around her, his hands found the soft, warm skin of her bare back, stroking the length of her spine. Then he found the tie of her halter dress at the nape of her neck and tugged it loose. He eased the fabric away, baring her to the waist. She inhaled sharply.
Even the harsh lighting of the bathroom couldn’t mar the beauty of her. Her breasts small and perfect. Her skin like alabaster.
He bent to kiss her throat, cupping one bare breast in his hand, her skin hot against his palm. Moving down farther to flick his tongue over her hard pink nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking hard.
She arched her body up, her fingers pushing into his hair. “Oh please…that’s…yes…”
It wasn’t just her mouth that tasted delectable. Her skin did, too. Sweet and salty at the same time. And the sounds she made… God, he was so hard he could barely think.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as he swirled his tongue around her nipple and she shuddered, panting. Her hips shifted, pressing against his aching groin and his mind just about blanked.
Christ, he wasn’t even going to make it to his bedroom at this rate.
Releasing her nipple from his mouth, Joseph ignored her moan of protest as he raised his head. “I want you,” he murmured roughly. “Here. Now. Right now. “
Her eyes were glazed, her face flushed. She nodded. Then took a fistful of his T-shirt, pulling him back to her.
Thank God.
After lifting her up onto the edge of the vanity, Joseph pushed up her short black dress, hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, and slowly eased them down her legs and off. Then he slid his palms up smooth bare skin. She shivered as he slipped a hand between her thighs, his fingers finding the soft, wet folds of her sex.
“Joseph…” she murmured, his name becoming a husky, sensual sound as she spread her knees for him.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was leaning back, her half-naked body in a graceful arch, lashes almost closed, her beautiful mouth open as he stroked her, passion and pleasure lighting her up, burning inside her like a torch.
Beautiful. She was so goddamn beautiful.
“Please…Joseph.”
Condoms. Where the hell were the condoms? God, he wasn’t going to be able to wait a second longer. He groped in the topmost drawer, finding what he was looking for. It took only a moment to rip open the packet, another moment to undo his jeans and sheath himself, and then, the most glorious moment of all, that last heavenly second as he thrust inside her, hearing her gasp of pleasure, feeling her legs wrap around him, the tight, wet heat of her surrounding him, gripping him.
Joseph groaned right along with her, his mouth pressed against the base of her throat. It was all he could do to keep himself under control, to hold himself back until she was ready.
But in the end, he didn’t need to do much in the way of holding back, because she was as ready as he was. Arching against him, her arms wound tight around his neck, she cried out as he drew his hips back, sliding out of her and then in again, deep and hard, setting up a rhythm that had her shuddering, panting, her moans hoarse in his ears.
So good. If he wasn’t careful he’d lose himself. Not a bad idea, all things considered.
He raised his head and kissed that luscious mouth of hers again, cutting off the sounds she made. No, she didn’t taste like champagne. She tasted way better. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted more.
His kisses became hungry and hot, and she followed him every step of the way. Inexperienced but in no way disappointing. In fact, it only added to her allure. Perhaps this was new for her. Perhaps she was finding this as intense as he was.
Oh God, he hoped so, because he was ready to explode here. And if she wasn’t…
Abruptly, Naughtygirl’s head fell back and her body tightened around him, her legs a vise around his waist. She gave a desperate, raw cry, almost of anguish, as the climax ripped through her. Joseph closed his eyes and turned his face against her throat, letting himself go right along with her, the pleasure shooting along his nerve endings, firing him up.
Heaven.
Afterward, it was a long time before he could move. A long time before he could speak. A long time before his hands lost their death grip on her hips.
She waited against him, barely breathing. And then, so suddenly that it took him by surprise, she pushed him away with all her strength. He fell back, stumbling, reaching to pull his jeans up. But by the time he had, it was too late. She’d slipped off the vanity and was out the door before he could even protest.
As he hauled his jeans up, cursing, he heard the sound of the front door of the apartment slam.
Naughtygirl25 had run out on him for the second time that evening.
Chapter Three
The barbarian warrior on Christie’s screen swung his ax at the rat nibbling at his feet and missed. Christie sighed. Another stupid online game. Another stupid review. She just didn’t have the patience for it today.
She glanced over at Ben’s office door. It was shut. Nervousness clenched in her gut. She’d sent her dating article to him on Saturday, having worked all night Friday to get it done.
The Friday night she’d left Joseph’s apartment.
Her cheeks burned at the memory.
She’d kissed him. She’d bloody gone and kissed him. He’d told her he didn’t want her to leave and…well, she’d decided just to go for it then and there.
Still, kissing complete strangers in their bathrooms wasn’t exactly her usual modus operandi, either. Neither was what had happened afterward.
Oh man, the way he’d touched her had been…so good. She hadn’t been able to control the intensity of her response, hadn’t wanted to. It had been so long since anyone had touched her in that way.
I want you. Here. Now. Right now.
His words had reverberated through her whole body.
In the heat of the moment she’d forgotten her nervousness. Her awkwardness. Forgotten she was supposed to be Naughtygirl. She’d even forgotten she was Christie.
For that hot, desperate moment, she’d been just a woman who wanted a man and was wanted in return.
After which, in spite of the kiss and hot sex, she’d bolted yet again.
Good going, St. John. Truly stellar behavior.
Savagely gnawing on her lip, Christie stared at her screen again, trying not to think about what had gripped her in those shocked, panting moments afterward. The unreasoning, senseless panic that had made her push him away
and fueled her desperate break for freedom. As she’d run down the hallway, she’d heard him call after her but she hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t stopped running until she’d gotten back home.
Nooooo, definitely not going to think about that part.
“So what happened?”
Christie jumped as Marisa, blue eyes avid, deposited herself on the chair next to Christie’s desk.
“C’mon, St. John. Tell me. Did you do it?”
“Do what?” Christie fussed around with the mouse. Did the world really need to know about her one-night stand with a complete stranger? Uh. No, it did not.
“You know what I’m talking about. And you gave me nothing over the phone, so spill.”
Christie looked at her screen as her barbarian warrior finally succumbed to the rat and died a hero’s death. “Oh, great. Look what you did. You distracted me and now Bjorn’s dead.”
Marisa wasn’t fooled for a second. “Who cares about Bjorn? I want to know what happened with Mr. Hotness.”
Dammit. If Marisa thought you were hiding something she wouldn’t give up until she’d unearthed it.
“Oh. Him.” Christie dealt with her barbarian’s remains, eyes on the screen. “Nothing.”
Marisa didn’t say anything. Christie gave her a cautious, sidelong glance. Her friend’s mouth was open in a silent O of surprise. “Oh my God. You slept with him!”
“What?” Christie squeaked, fiery heat rushing over her. “How did you know? I mean, I never…we didn’t…”
“Ha! You did! You so did!”
“Did what?” One of the guys passing by Christie’s desk, paused, looking interested.
Christie froze while Marisa flapped a hand at him. “Get out of here, Mike. This is girl talk.”
Mike nodded as if the dismissal were perfectly acceptable and moved on.
“Okay,” Marisa said in a quieter voice once he’d gone. “Know this—you are the worst liar in the world so there’s no point trying to hide anything. Tell me what happened. From the beginning, please. Leave nothing out.”
Christie chewed on her lip. She didn’t want to tell her friend. Because then she’d have to reveal her ignominious retreat five seconds after having sex with him.