Talking Dirty with the CEO

by Jackie Ashenden

  She pulled open the button, undid the zipper, cool fingers pushing under the material of his boxers to curl around his aching cock, holding him.

  “God…” His hands fisted at his sides as sensation rocketed through him, her fingers squeezing gently.

  She stopped what she was doing. “Am I hurting you?”

  Jesus Christ, was she serious? But that familiar crease was back between her eyebrows, a worried look on her face.

  “No,” he managed to force out between gritted teeth. “But if you keep doing that, things could get embarrassing extremely quickly.”

  Her fingers curled tighter and a small, satisfied smile turned her mouth. “Oh, good.” Then she leaned forward again, and he felt her tongue on his skin as she licked him like a kitten.

  God, he loved this new confidence in her. The only problem was if she kept stroking him like that, he’d never be able to last.

  She pushed aside his shirt and her hot mouth closed around his nipple. Joseph groaned as her teeth scraped his skin. “Naughtygirl,” he said roughly, “I’m sorry. But consider me seduced.”

  Then he moved, turning her so she was up against the wall this time, and his hands were in her hair, pulling her head back, kissing her surprised mouth, tasting her heat and the essential, intoxicating flavor that was all Christie.

  She gave a moan of protest, but he’d gotten past the stage of being able to let her have free rein. He wanted her with a need that bordered on desperation.

  He pushed her dress up, the silk of it feeling rough in comparison with the smoothness of her thighs, then shoved aside the material of her panties. There was a tense moment when he had to grab his wallet for the condom he knew was in there—at least he hoped to Christ it was—but then he found the packet and it only took a couple of seconds to protect them both.

  Then he lifted her against the wall, one leg hauled high around his waist, and he pushed into her tight, wet heat, her soft cry of pleasure in his ear.

  The feel of her around him stunned him, and for a moment he couldn’t move, unable to do anything but stand there, trying to get his breath, trying to hold back. He shook with need, with the tight, desperate feeling in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

  Her fingers cupped his face. “Joseph…” Her voice was soft and husky as she tilted his head. Then her mouth was on him, kissing him softly, gently. More kisses along his jaw, his cheek, and finally his mouth. Calming him. Soothing him.

  And somehow he found the strength to move, slowly, deeply inside her. The kiss went on and on, becoming something so intense it hurt to breathe. But he didn’t want it to stop. Didn’t ever want it to stop.

  She whispered his name, and then he found her green eyes staring into his. Full of an emotion he couldn’t have named even if he’d wanted to.

  And he looked and kept looking, feeling the pleasure wind tighter and tighter until at last her lashes fluttered and she groaned, her body convulsing around him. Only then did he let himself go, the tide of sensation gathering him in, breaking over him, drowning him.

  Long minutes later, he felt her fingers in his hair, stroking him, the scent of sex and Christie an intoxicating mix that already had him wanting more. So much more.

  Even hours later, in the depths of the night, with her lying quiet and fast asleep beside him, Joseph still felt hungry for her. As if holding her, making love to her, wasn’t enough.

  His arms tightened around her.

  He should have been bored by now. Should have moved on to someone else. But he wasn’t bored and he realized he didn’t want to move on. He wanted to keep holding her. Keep exploring the fascinating landscape of her soul. Like discovering a new and interesting country, finding out the lay of the land, mapping hills and valleys, seeing places in the distance he wanted to visit. There was so much to learn about her.

  And why couldn’t he? What was wrong with wanting that?

  The past week had been amazing and he hadn’t felt even a hint of restlessness.

  He could do this. He could try. He could be the man she deserved and more.

  …

  Christie woke the next morning with a peaceful feeling sitting inside her heart. She felt like a new person. As if a long-hidden wound inside of her had been healed and Joseph was the instrument of that healing.

  Turning over, she reached automatically for him, only to find that the bed was empty.

  Odd.

  She sat up, looking around the room, but he wasn’t there.

  Puzzled, Christie slid out of bed and did a quick reconnaissance of the whole apartment.

  But Joseph wasn’t anywhere. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air.

  Going back into the bedroom, she picked up her phone. Perhaps he’d left her an e-mail or a message or something.

  But he hadn’t.

  A vague unease settled in her stomach. Okay, so they hadn’t been going out long, but he’d never run out on her like this before. Never left her without any explanation at all.

  Then again, maybe it was nothing. Maybe he’d gone out for a run or a bike ride. Or maybe he’d gone to get food or something.

  She dressed and went into the kitchen to get coffee.

  She’d wait a bit. He’d be back. She was sure of it.

  But a couple of hours later he wasn’t, and her phone remained stubbornly silent.

  It didn’t matter, right? At least it shouldn’t. Because this…whatever it was between them was only a casual thing. There’d been no promises on either side, no commitment. And if he wanted to take off after spending the night holding her in his arms then he could.

  Yet no amount of telling herself that moved the huge boulder that sat right in the middle of her stomach. Or made her feel better when eventually she gave up waiting and went home.

  …

  Joseph stood outside Jude’s loft-style apartment and leaned on the doorbell, cursing himself all the while.

  He’d woken up that morning, Christie’s warm weight in his arms, with that niggling sense that he’d forgotten something important. Instantly he’d reached for his phone and found, much to his annoyance, that once again he’d switched his reminders off. He’d done it the previous night, before getting to Christie’s parents’ place, because he hadn’t wanted to be disturbed. But as per usual, he’d forgotten to turn the reminders back on again.

  Then the moment he’d switched them on, the phone had started vibrating like crazy and he’d seen what it was he’d forgotten.

  Jude’s birthday. He was supposed to meet her for dinner last night.

  He’d never forgotten her birthday before, never. He always did everything he could to remember it, and these days he’d thought it was so cemented in his brain he wouldn’t ever forget.

  But he hadn’t counted on this crazy obsession with Christie St. John.

  Shit. He couldn’t believe he’d stood Jude up. She was the only person in his life who’d put up with all the ADHD crap and stuck by him, when even their mother had given up on him as a bad job. Jude was important to him, and it hurt when he slipped up.

  Joseph stabbed the doorbell again.

  He should have left Christie an explanation for why he’d gone, but he hadn’t had the time. He hoped she’d understand. He’d have to tell her about the ADHD stuff, of course. Maybe he should have done it sooner, but he didn’t make a habit of spilling his guts about it because he hated the way it made people stick him in a box and put a big fat label on him. Plus it always sounded like an excuse and he hated that, too.

  The door abruptly opened, Jude on the other side. She didn’t say anything, just looked at him.

  “I’m sorry.” It was all he could say.

  Wordlessly, she gestured him inside.

  In her light, airy living room, he paced while she made coffee, the restlessness so bad it felt like a million ants moving under his skin. With Christie it hadn’t felt this bad. In fact, when he was with her he felt almost settled. Calm.

  But that was just the hyper-focus, righ
t? The way he always got when he had a new idea or met a new person who interested him. He focused completely on it/them to the exclusion of everything else.

  But not to the point of forgetting Jude’s birthday.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Hey, hey, what’s up?” Jude set the coffee down on the table. “You’re all hyped.”

  “Nothing’s up.” He crossed over to the windows, turning and pacing back to the couch again. “Why should anything be up? I just missed your freaking birthday, no big deal, right?”

  “It’s okay, Joe.”

  “No, it’s not okay. It’s not bloody okay.” He turned, thrusting a hand through his hair, going over to the wall this time before turning yet again and moving restlessly to the windows. “That’s the one thing I never forget. Never, Jude.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment. “You need to go back on the meds?”

  “No, shit no.” He hated the meds. They left him dull and tired and unable to think straight.

  “So why all this anger? What were you doing last night?”

  He tried to get a grip. “Nothing. I was…” He stopped, not wanting to tell her. Christ, it sounded so bad to say he’d gone to a party with a woman. But then he hated keeping stuff from Jude. “I was with someone.”

  Her blue eyes were very direct. “Ah. A new someone?”

  “The woman I met online.”

  An expression of surprise crossed her face. “Again?”

  “Yes, again. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Oh come on, Joe. Can you blame me?” Judith sat down on the couch, picked up her coffee. “She must be something special to warrant a second viewing.”

  Actually, it was a lot more than a second viewing.

  You’re the best boyfriend ever.

  “She’s…different.”

  Jude gazed at him from over the top of her coffee mug. “So what were you doing with her? Or is that something I don’t want to know?”

  Joseph stopped in the middle of the room. He didn’t want to share what had happened with Christie at her parents’ place. That was Christie’s business, no one else’s. So he went with something more innocuous. “Would you believe we were rebuilding an old computer?”

  “No. Seriously?”

  “It’s true.” He frowned. “What?”

  Jude was grinning. “You. Sitting there quietly building a computer with a lady friend.”

  “Don’t.”

  “What? It’s cute.”

  He turned, uncomfortable with how defensive he felt about his time with Christie. “It’s not cute. There’s no way I should have forgotten to check my reminders. No way.”

  “You were enjoying yourself that much, huh?”

  Joseph stalked over to the windows. The view wasn’t anything to speak of, just the building next door, but he stared at it anyway.

  Yes, he had enjoyed himself last night. Watching her come into her own in front of her parents. And not even just then, but every night he spent with her, whether it was talking about movies in bed or sitting next to her and chatting while messing around with electronics. The stuff he’d loved as a kid, hanging out in the kitchen, consumed by whatever had caught his fancy at the time, talking at his mother while she cooked or washed up or did whatever it was mothers did.

  Until she told him to shut up and get the hell away from her because she couldn’t stand his constant interruptions.

  “You know,” Jude said softly, “I’d much rather you forgot my birthday because you were enjoying being with someone special instead of partying with one of your factory dolls.”

  “She’s not…” He couldn’t complete the denial, falling over it and coming to a stop.

  “Ah.” Jude sighed. “What a lot of crap, Joe. That’s why you’re so agitated. It’s not just because you forgot my birthday. You forgot my birthday because you liked being with her and you’re pissed off about it.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around. There was no point in denying it. He’d offered to be her boyfriend, for Christ’s sake. He didn’t do that for women he felt nothing for.

  “Yeah,” he said. “She’s special.” And this time it was easy to say.

  Too special for a guy like you.

  A cold hand closed around his heart.

  Last night he’d thought he could be the man she needed. The man she deserved. And she deserved everything. Someone patient. Someone reliable. Someone who wouldn’t get distracted. Someone calm and steady, who would support her. Someone who would never let her down.

  Well, he wasn’t that someone. He would never be that someone.

  One day, at some point, at some time, he would let her down. Because that’s what he did. It didn’t seem to matter how important the person was to him, there was always a moment where he’d forget, where he’d get distracted, where he’d dismiss something important, deeming it unimportant. Where he’d forget himself and hurt someone.

  Like Jude. And Jude put up with it because she had no choice. Because he was her brother.

  But Christie wasn’t. And he had to make a different choice for her.

  “Are you going to see her again?”

  Joseph stared at the wall of the building next door. Unseeing.

  He would break it off with Christie. Before he let her down. Before he hurt her. It was the best decision. An easy decision.

  “No,” he said, having to force out the words because they were surprisingly difficult to say. “Not again.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “Because there’s no future in it. You know me, Jude. I’m not a relationship kind of guy.” And he wasn’t. Not for anyone.

  “Ah, that old excuse.”

  “It’s not an—”

  “Bullshit.” She pushed away her cup all of a sudden. “We both know it is. The ADHD is a convenient excuse to cover the fact that you’re just damn scared.”

  His slowly simmering anger came to a boil in furious denial. He swung around to face her. “Tell me you weren’t hurt last night. Tell me it didn’t matter that I didn’t turn up for dinner. That you didn’t care.”

  Her jaw went tight and he had his answer.

  “Yeah, I thought so. I know you understand—shit, you’re the only person who does. But it still hurts when I make a mistake, and I know that. I hate doing that to you. I hate messing up with people I care about. So call me scared if you want to, but you’ll have to forgive me for not wanting to put either myself or someone else through all the crap I put you through.”

  Especially not someone like Christie.

  “Okay,” she said. “Have it your way. But don’t do anything you’ll regret, Joe.” She looked at him. “I know you won’t believe this, but sometimes you’re actually worth the hurt.”

  No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t worth shit.

  But Christie was.

  And if she ended up getting hurt because of him, he’d never forgive himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Christie hunched over her computer and tried to concentrate on the idea she’d had for an article on vintage computers. Nostalgia was always popular, and vintage had its own cool. She hoped Ben would go for it. She’d already decided to include a step-by-step guide on how to rebuild something like her Arkon.

  Anyway, concentrating on the idea was way better than the other subject her mind had refused to let go of: Joseph bloody Ashton.

  After his disappearance on Sunday morning, she’d sent him a couple of texts asking him what had happened. His response had been late in coming and she hadn’t received it until that night, just a message saying he’d had to go see his sister and that he had some work stuff to do, which meant he couldn’t see her.

  She’d been a touch disappointed but she understood. His work was important.

  The following day she’d sent him a good-morning text, asking him if he wanted to come over for takeout and a resumption of their Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon. But all she’d gotten back was a terse refusal. Aga
in with the work excuse.

  She couldn’t understand it. He’d been so caring the night of her parents’ party. Supporting her all through it and then, back at his apartment, making love to her, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go. Yet now…this. Terse, three-word texts.

  Tuesday her texts had gone unanswered completely, even the one offering to bring over a sheepskin rug and a garter belt. Which had hurt. So she hadn’t sent him anything else.

  Wednesday…?

  She glanced down at her phone again.

  Wednesday, still no response. No nothing.

  She’d bitten the bullet that morning and tried calling him, but it kept switching to voice mail. And since she’d left two messages already, she decided not to leave another. That would be way too pathetic. And needy. And desperate.

  And she wasn’t any of those things, was she? Not after what had happened at her parents’ party.

  No, after that night she was strong and sure of herself. Confident.

  She didn’t need him. She didn’t need any man.

  You were amazing.

  The words on the screen blurred and she swallowed, her throat gone painfully tight.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She was pathetic and needy and desperate.

  And she needed him.

  Why hadn’t he called her? Why hadn’t he responded to any of her texts? Why was he ignoring her? It had been four days. Surely he couldn’t have been that busy at work?

  “You look miserable,” Marisa observed, pausing beside Christie’s desk on her way to the kitchenette. “Trouble in paradise?”

  Christie had told Marisa about Joseph, trying and failing not to bend her ear about him every second she got. But she didn’t want to talk about him now. Especially when she didn’t even know why he hadn’t bothered to contact her.

  “No.” Christie stabbed her mouse button and accidentally deleted a whole page of text. She cursed. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Oh, sure.” Marisa perched on the edge of the desk. “Come on, tell your old pal Marisa. I’ve had no gossip from you at all lately and I’m getting desperate.”

  Christie tried to ease the tension from her shoulders. “It’s nothing, Mar.”