Talking Dirty with the CEO

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Talking Dirty with the CEO Page 10

by Jackie Ashenden


  “Of course I was serious. I would never offer you a job if I didn’t mean it.” And he wouldn’t. He only took the best for Ashton Technology. “Your writing is fantastic but I’m wondering if you’d prefer something more hands-on. My research department could use someone who thinks outside the box and who’s passionate about tech. Someone like you, in other words.”

  A small silence down the other end of the line. “I…well…thanks. Can I think about it?”

  Something in her tone made him frown. She sounded quiet and almost fragile.

  It made his chest feel tight. “Are you okay, honey?”

  This time the silence seemed to stretch forever.

  “Yes,” Christie replied, but she didn’t sound okay. That note in her voice gripped him and wouldn’t let go.

  “Well, I’m not.” He paused. “I’m feeling lonely here and I keep thinking of sheepskin rugs. And you naked on them.”

  A soft intake of breath. “Oh, are you?”

  “Yeah.” A strange feeling swept through him. Almost as if he was nervous or unsure of himself. Which was just damn weird since he was never either of those things. He shook it off. “What do you think?”

  “I…I don’t know.” She sounded hesitant. “I thought we weren’t going to see each other again.”

  “We weren’t.” Words on his tongue, words he never thought he’d say. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I want another night, Christie.”

  Another long silence.

  He found himself gripping the phone tight. “Don’t say no.”

  Finally, she spoke. “Okay. I won’t.”

  Ridiculous to feel so relieved but nevertheless he did. “Then give me your address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “You want to come here?” More surprise.

  “I want to see where you live.” To sate the curiosity burning a hole in his gut.

  For a long moment he thought she wasn’t going to agree, then rather abruptly, she told him her address. In Ponsonby, not far from his downtown office. Fantastic—at this time of night it would only take him five minutes at most.

  “It’s nothing fancy,” she told him, a defensive edge to her voice. “It’s just a crummy apartment.”

  “How could it be just a crummy apartment with you in it? I’ll be there in five.”

  …

  Christie stared around the apartment at the wires, cables, and electronics tools scattered all over the table. At the clothes draped over the couch, the tech magazines spread untidily over the coffee table, the books facedown, spines irretrievably broken. The half-eaten pizza and the half-drunk coffees.

  Ugh.

  She should never have said yes. What had she been thinking only a little while ago about his apartment? Neat and tidy and clean. Full of expensive furniture and art. And hers was…

  Ugh. Just ugh.

  Her jaw tightened as she battled the urge to do a frantic cleanup. No, why should she?

  Yeah, she had a sad computer-geek type of apartment. So what? He was only coming around to have sex, nothing more. And she had no problems with that.

  A shivering excitement welled up inside her at the thought of seeing him again, and she found herself surveying the mess and deciding that perhaps he was worth neatening up for after all.

  Springing into action, Christie got rid of the leftover pizza and coffee mugs, chucked the clothes into her bedroom, did a double-take once she actually saw the state of the bedroom, realized the bedroom was actually going to be used, chucked everything off the bedroom floor into the wardrobe, then stuffed everything that didn’t fit in the wardrobe into the tiny hall cupboard.

  When she’d finished, the apartment was looking…okay. So not all that tidy but at least it had lost that sad, unkempt look. Unlike her, alas.

  Christie stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway and pulled a face at her reflection. In a faded Yoda T-shirt with “Do or do not. There is no try” on the front of it and a pair of comfy, baggy gray sweatpants, she knew she looked like the kind of person who never left her apartment.

  Pride, St. John?

  The doorbell rang and Christie sighed. Too late for pride. Perhaps now Joseph would see what he was really getting himself into.

  Swallowing back a sudden burst of nervousness and the even stronger burst of excitement, Christie walked sedately to the door. No, she would not run to open it. She wasn’t a teenage girl and he wasn’t her first date. She would be calm and cool. Casual even.

  And then she pulled open the door and her good intentions scattered like a flock of nervous hens.

  Joseph, all lithe, athletic grace, lounged in the hallway outside. Dressed in black jeans, a snug dark-blue T-shirt, and Chuck Taylor sneakers, he looked even more handsome than he had in his suit at the product launch. Oh, boy, was she in trouble. Big trouble.

  “Hey, Naughtygirl,” he said and gave her the grin she remembered. The grin that made it difficult to breathe. “I like your hair.”

  Pleased he’d noticed her haircut, she blushed like a fool. “Uh, thanks. Come in.”

  As he stepped inside and she shut the door behind him, an arm snaked around her waist, drawing her close. Then he turned her in his arms, sliding his fingers into her hair and pulling her head back, his mouth covering hers.

  A sigh escaped her as desire began to build, filling her up like a rain-swollen river. Why did it feel like she’d missed this? They’d only been to bed twice and yet she felt like a starving woman given her first taste of chocolate. Could she really have built up such a craving for him after so little time?

  Joseph lifted his head, smiling at her soft sound of protest. “You know I’m not just here for sex, right?”

  Christie lifted her arms around his neck, an absurd dart of happiness going through her. As if his presence had somehow lifted the cloud she’d felt settle over her all week.

  “Well, I hope you didn’t come here just for conversation.” She pressed her body against him, feeling the hard evidence of his desire, loving the way the blue flame leaped in his eyes in response.

  “Considering I’ve never had a proper conversation with you, I’m kind of thinking that mightn’t be a bad idea.”

  She pulled a face. “Why?”

  “Christie.” His fingers circled her wrists, drawing her hands away from him. The look on his face told her he intended to get his way. “I’m curious. Indulge me.”

  Blowing out a long breath, she tried not to feel sulky and failed. “Fine.” She waved an arm at the tiny space of her living room. “Well, ta-da. Welcome to my humble abode. Pretty much all you see is all you get.”

  Joseph stepped away from her and she had to close her hands into fists to keep from reaching after him. He began to prowl around the room, all fluid grace and power. Like a lion in a cage and just as restless. It made her feel nervous again, though she didn’t really understand why.

  “It’s great,” he said. “Small and perfectly formed.” He flashed her a glance. “Just like you.”

  Christie felt her cheeks go hot. “Hey, I’m not small.”

  “But you are perfectly formed.”

  Which only made her blush harder.

  He made another pass around the room before stopping by her dining table, the surface strewn with electronics and computer parts. He frowned at it and then said, in tones of deep surprise, “My God, is than an Arkon 75?”

  The question startled her. Not many people recognized the vintage computer she was in the process of rebuilding. They’d first come out about thirty years ago and she’d been enjoying the challenge of trying to get it going again.

  She wandered over to the table. “Yeah. How did you know?”

  He didn’t look up, his attention caught by the half-built computer sitting on the dining table. “Are you kidding me? My dad had one of these. I grew up with it.” He leaned over to peer inside the computer box. “This is incredible. You’re rebuilding it?”

  Christie leaned her hip against the table, feeling od
dly shy. She’d gotten into fiddling with electronics after she’d discovered her brother’s forgotten crystal set. Her mother had disapproved of her interest, naturally enough. In her opinion, teenage girls should be into clothes and makeup, not wires and circuits. But for Christie it had been like finally finding the thing she was really good at. That and writing.

  “Um…yeah, I am,” she admitted, biting her lip.

  Long, clever fingers touched some of the wires.

  “Be careful,” she said automatically.

  He gave a soft laugh. “It’s okay. I know what I’m doing, believe me.” His eyes glinted as he glanced up at her. “When I was a kid, I pulled dad’s computer apart because I wanted to see how it worked. Admittedly that was before I knew how to put it back together again. My mother…” He stopped suddenly. Looked away.

  “Your mother?” she prompted, looking down at him.

  Black lashes feathered his cheekbones, his attention on the computer. “Was angry with me,” he said after a moment. “I could never sit still, always had to be doing something. I once took apart her washing machine because I wanted to see where all the water went. She was not happy.”

  “I can imagine. Mothers, huh?”

  “So, what’s the deal with vintage computers then?”

  Christie stared at him. That had been a very definite change of subject. Was there something about his mother he didn’t like talking about? If so, she could relate. Boy, could she relate.

  “I just like messing around with electronics,” she said, too unsure of him to push it. “And my dad had an Arkon, too, and I used to spend hours playing Time Thief. I thought it would be cool to get one going again.”

  Joseph straightened, the look on his face bright with interest and curiosity. He looked like an excited boy. “Please tell me you’ve got the rubber keyboard that used to come with them?”

  His grin was so infectious she just had to grin back. “Oh yeah. And remember the tape deck? Instead of a disk drive?”

  “My God, yes.” He pulled out one of the dining chairs. “Come on, show me,” he said imperiously. “I want to know where you’re at.”

  Christie didn’t know quite how it happened but the next time she looked up, a whole hour had passed. A whole hour spent playing with computer parts, reminiscing about old computer games and arguing happily about the advances in gaming technology.

  So much for her thinking he wouldn’t be interested.

  She should have been pleased about it but she wasn’t. She was anxious.

  She didn’t know all of a sudden. A few days ago the thought of him wanting a night with her seemed like the biggest thrill ever. But now it was like that wasn’t enough. It was like she wanted more, which was dumb because she’d been telling herself all week that she didn’t.

  Why? What had changed between them?

  Christie turned her head, watching his face as he looked down at the piece of circuitry in his hands, his brows drawn down in intense concentration. One leg jogged constantly and yet his hands were still, handling the delicate electronics with care. The strange mix of movement and stillness, impatience and care, made her heart give an odd sort of lurch.

  And she knew what had changed. She liked him. Liked being with him. Liked his interest and enthusiasm in something that interested and excited her. It made her feel good in a way she hadn’t in a long time.

  “Do you really want to be here?” The words popped out before she could stop herself.

  Joseph’s head jerked up in surprise. “What?”

  “Do you really want to be here? You know, fiddling around with bits of crappy electronics and talking about gaming?”

  He stared at her for a long moment. Then he put down the circuit board he was holding and leaned his elbow on the table. “Yes, of course I want to be here fiddling with bits of crappy electronics and talking about gaming.”

  “But it’s not what you came for, is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You came here for sex, not this.” She gestured toward the table strewn with wires and screws and all sorts of other paraphernalia.

  “Christie, I came here because I wanted to see you. If you don’t want sex, that’s fine. I’m happy sitting here talking to you. And that’s the truth.”

  Her throat felt tight. “Oh. Well…great.”

  “Hey, what’s up?” He searched her face. “Why all this doubt?”

  She opened her mouth, the usual denials at the ready. But that wasn’t what came out. “Because I like doing this with you. And I’m afraid you’re not enjoying this. I’m afraid you’re only doing it to pass time before we went to bed.”

  An expression she couldn’t interpret shifted in his gaze. “Honey, there’s something you should know about me,” he said softly. “You remember what I said about my mother not liking the fact that I couldn’t sit still as a kid? Well, I can’t even as an adult. I hate it, in fact. After a couple of minutes I have to get up and do something else. Yet you’ve kept me here in this chair for a whole hour. And I didn’t even notice. What does that tell you about how I was enjoying it?”

  The blush came without her permission as always, but this time it wasn’t wholly because of embarrassment. This time there was pleasure there, too. A tendril of warmth uncurled inside her.

  “Oh.”

  “You say that a lot.”

  The tendril uncurled a bit more. “I don’t like compliments.”

  “I noticed.” He smiled, his gaze dropping to her mouth and back again. “How are you with kisses?”

  The tendril uncurled into a small flower, blooming in her heart. “Kisses?” Christie swallowed. “Actually, I don’t mind kisses.”

  Joseph stared at her. “Show me.”

  And just like that, she wanted him. So much she trembled. Slowly she leaned forward and brushed his beautiful mouth with hers. A tentative kiss.

  His hand caught the back of her head, holding her there. His mouth beneath hers opened but without demand, letting her take control. Letting her kiss him, letting her explore him. An intoxicating feeling, to have this man so quiet under her hands, this man who was always moving, always restless.

  Her excitement began to build along with her confidence, and she found her hands in his hair, fingers curled in the silky strands as she kissed him deeper, exploring his mouth with an insistence she hadn’t realized was in her.

  “Oh, Naughtygirl,” Joseph murmured. “I like you being demanding. Show me more.”

  She didn’t know how it happened. One moment she was sitting in her chair kissing him, the next she was in his lap, straddling him, her mouth exploring his strong jaw, his neck, the column of his throat. He gave a soft growl of approval, his hands sliding beneath the waistband of her sweatpants and then beneath that of her panties, to smooth over the bare skin of her bottom, squeezing her gently.

  Christie shuddered, finding his mouth again, kissing him harder, wanting to show him exactly how demanding she could be.

  Joseph’s hips flexed beneath her, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against the damp heat between her thighs. It felt so good, so intense.

  “Give me more,” he said against her lips. “I know you can.”

  Her mouth dried. Yes, she could. And she would. For him she could do anything.

  Christie slid off his lap.

  “Hey,” he protested, “where are you going?”

  She met his gaze, the blue gone dark with desire. He looked hungry and she liked it. Liked it more than she’d ever thought possible.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. And before she could change her mind, she shucked off her sweatpants, taking her underwear off with them. Then she walked back over to his chair and climbed back into his lap, facing him.

  Joseph gave a soft curse, his hands on her thighs, stroking her. “Dammit, Christie. Are you trying to make me lose it here or what?”

  “You said wanted more.” Her hands dropped to the buttons of his jeans and unbuttoned them, fingers pu
lling down the waistband of his boxers, setting him free. “So I’m giving you more.”

  He said her name as she touched him, gripping him, the velvet heat of his shaft against her palm. She closed her hand on him, reveling in the evidence of how much he wanted her.

  Joseph arched his hips as she moved her hand, a groan breaking from him.

  It gave her such a thrill to see the stark need on his face, gave her such a sense of power that her touch could do this to him. Could make him gasp her name. Make him groan with desire. She didn’t think she’d ever get sick of it.

  Then one of his hands moved, fingers curling under her thigh, sliding higher to stroke the damp folds of her sex, making her shudder, setting her on fire. Then he slid a finger inside her.

  Her soft gasp turning into a groan as he eased in a second, thrusting gently.

  “Yeah, honey,” his voice a growl. “Keep doing that. I want to watch you come.”

  She’d never been the type for dirty talk or letting it all hang out. Sex had always been awkward and if it hadn’t been awkward then it had just been…nice.

  But this wasn’t nice. Straddling a guy in a chair while he brought you to orgasm with his hand? Oh, that wasn’t nice. That was dirty. And hot. And so erotic she almost came there and then.

  Christie arched back. Her grip on him faltered, became jerky as the movement of his fingers became faster. Harder.

  She screwed her eyes shut, panting. It was too much. Way too much. “Joseph, I can’t…I’m going to…”

  But then he brushed her clit with his thumb and the climax roared over her, unstoppable. She cried out, shuddering, losing herself for a couple of seconds.

  “Come back to me, beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, his hands sliding up her spine. Then, husky and soft, “Wallet. Back pocket.”

  It took her a moment to process what he was actually talking about. Then another to come back to earth. Then she couldn’t get to it fast enough, leaning around to grab his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. There were several condoms in it, and thank God for that because she certainly didn’t have any.

  She ripped open the packet.

  Joseph watched her, his eyes half-closed, blue glittering from beneath black lashes. “You do it this time.”

 

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