by Aliyah Burke
Copyright
Tryst With the CEO
Copyright © 2018 Aliyah Burke
Cover illustration copyright © Covers by K
Cottonwood Falls Logo copyright © Covers by K
Sensual Romance Publishing Logo copyright © MMJ Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher or author. The unauthorized replication or allocation of any copyrighted work is illegal. File sharing is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States Department of Justice and the United States Border Patrol, Division of Cyber Crimes, in partnership with Interpol. Copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by up to five years in federal prison, a fine of $250,000 per reported instance, and seizure of computers.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.
Published by Sensual Romance Publishing
Tryst With the CEO
By
Aliyah Burke
Blurb for Tryst With the CEO
Jacques “Jack” Perrot fills in for his business partner and finds a woman unlike any he’d met before. A tryst together on the forty-fourth floor leaves him waking alone and craving more. Neela Fitzgerald never expected to meet her boss in an elevator and discover he was the same man she’d enjoyed a one-night stand with. He wants her close and makes her his personal assistant, however, his words push her away, will he be able to recover what he’s lost. Will she give him a second chance?
Dedication
Thank you to my readers for following me on another journey. I’m excited and honored to be part of this boxset with this amazing group of people. Thank you to the ones who worked so hard on putting this together. Much love!
Table of Contents
Copyright
Title Page
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
About the Author
First story in the Cottonwood Falls Series
Additional Books by Aliyah Burke
Chapter One
“I got this, Toby. You stay with Melinda. She needs you there. Besides, I’m already here, about to walk inside.”
“Thanks for understanding, Jacques. I know you had plans to be elsewhere, tonight.”
And he had. Paris with some nameless booty call. But his partner for L&P Global Funding, Toby Latner, couldn’t make the party for his very pregnant wife, Melinda Latner, was having complications. Toby didn’t want to leave her. Jacques didn’t blame him. So, his friend was home in Cottonwood Falls and he was here.
While yes, it put a crimp in his plans, but he’d chalk it up to taking one for the team. Besides, he actually liked his partner’s wife. Melinda was much more important than some him getting a piece of ass in a foreign country.
I can find a woman here in Georgia.
Ending the call with Toby, he climbed out of his rental Bugatti and headed for the staff entrance, locking the car as he went in this way.
This was his first time in this building, he’d been in their overseas facility while this one had been opened. He slowed to show his identification to the officers at the security desk.
“Thank you, sir.” The one whose badge read Williams waved him through.
He met up with the pizza delivery guy at the elevators and rode up with him, the overwhelming scent of pepperoni and hot cheese filling his nose.
How long has it been since I’ve enjoyed a good slice of pizza? His stomach reminded him it had been far too long. Not just for pizza but for food of any kind.
As they stopped off on the floor, he could hear the fun and shook his head. He wasn’t a man who enjoyed parties. At least not groups. His night of fun was a hot babe, a night of great sex, and them each going their own way after it was over. No cuddling, no breakfast together, none of that.
Relationships were of no interest to him. Toby was his longest relationship. His family was of no consequence since the moment they kicked him out and said don’t bother coming back.
Right now, he stood two floors below the executive offices and he returned to the elevator to ride up to them. Unlike the last floor he just got off on, this one had blissful silence as opposed to loud techno music. Yes, he had to make an appearance for he was grateful for the employees, just not right now.
The lobby of L&P Global Funding’s executive offices had been done in a warm, deep amber with gold and a shade of maroon he liked. The furniture was a dark charcoal with accent pillows matching the overall scheme of colors.
The low lighting set a nice ambiance. Tall windows allowed for an unimpeded view of the city skyline even in the lobby, the setup allowed for the view. He loved them at night, that was the art in his place, nighttime skylines. There was something beautiful about them to him. Hands in his pockets, he strolled to the one-way glass and stared out, memorizing the view.
Toby had done a damn good job at selecting a headquarters for this office.
“Can I help you, sir?”
He turned to see a curvaceous beauty step from the elevator, she kept one hand on the door to keep it from closing behind her.
Smart. She didn’t know who he was.
“Just admiring the view.”
And man, was he.
Her one shouldered body-hugging dress sent his blood streaming south. The hue blended from blue to green and back again. Holy shit, he would love to explore all of her, his fingertips burned, and he wanted to touch that smooth creamy skin. The slit on the left side, allowed him tantalizing glimpses of her upper thigh. Normally elevator light wasn’t among anything he’d call flattering, but this worked. It did far more than simply work.
“The party is two floors down.”
He moved toward her wanting to peel up that tight skirt to see if that intricate vine tattoo continued on up her leg and if so, how high it went. Clenching his hand into a fist in his pocket he took several deep breaths.
“Why are you up here?”
“I was leaving and saw it come down from here. Last time I found a few people engaged in—shall we say—extracurricular activities.”
“Interesting. Hoping to find it again?” He’d be more than happy to oblige her.
Her lips twitched. “While I’ve never had sex on the forty-fourth floor, no, that’s not what I came for.”
He flicked his tongue over his lips, noting the pupil dilation as well as the jump in the pulse at her neck. More’s the pity, perhaps I can change her mind.
“Are you sure?” He made sure his tone lingered on the edge of teasing.
“Is that a proposition?” Her lips twitched.
“Would you accept it if it was?”
He was adept at reading women and she was definitely interested.
A fact that worked well in his favor. Yes, he was the boss but the way she’d addressed him had him confident she was unaware of his status within the company. If she said no, he wouldn’t press. Women didn’t
tell him no but if one did, that was her choice, there were enough out there who wanted him. He may be considered a playboy, but he had enough respect for women to never force one to be with him.
Regardless, as this was a party, and she wasn’t stating she knew who he was, there wasn’t anything immoral in his mind if she took him up on the offer.
She removed her hand from the elevator and the door slid shut, cutting off the light surrounding her.
He blinked a few times to allow his eyes to adjust once more to the near darkness. She’d moved nearer but still out of his reach and his palms itched to skim alone her dark mocha skin. Christ, he’d never thought of skin as edible before but she, changed that. He wanted to lick, taste, indulge in exploring it.
“I’m Jack.” Scary how easy his name that only a few got to call him slipped from his mouth.
“Neela.”
“Beautiful name for a stunning woman.” He reached out, drawing her to him. “Indulge me, one question.”
“Sure.”
She smelled of tantalizing wild orchids and midnight jasmine. Exotic. Alluring. Enticing.
“Your tattoo, on your left leg.”
She spread her fingers along his very plain cotton tee shirt. Her nails scored along his skin ever so lightly. He wanted that, on his bare skin. Neela pushed up on her toes and brushed her lips along his smooth jaw.
“What about it?”
Her breath held a slight coffee and mint scent.
“How far up does it go?”
Her husky laughter wove around him, bringing him alive, making him feel a deeper emotion than only lust.
“Take a look and find out for yourself.”
Jack palmed her ass and lifted her instantly approving of the way she locked her legs around him. carrying her down the hall, he kicked the door closed behind him to one of the boardrooms. Placing her on the end of the table, he stepped back to flick on a light.
“I need to see this.”
Her smile was another jolt to his groin. “So long as you promise me one thing.”
The light spilled over her, whetting his appetite for her further. Her skin was makeup free and clear of blemishes.
“What’s that?”
She crooked her finger at him. “You’ll respect me in the morning.”
Jack grinned before he could catch himself. Removing his shirt, he nodded.
“Promise.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Jack fumbled for his alarm, giving up to yell, “I’m awake.” The annoying noise stopped.
Good morning, Jacques. It is five forty-seven am. Would you like me to open the shades?
The automated voice for his house was nearly cheerful. He flopped over and groaned. “No.”
How could he respect Neela when she was gone come the early light of morning? Before he even woken up, she’d managed to slip away. He’d shoved back into his clothing and showed up for the party, later than intended but sated. She hadn’t been there at the party either.
It’s raining outside, and your car will be waiting for you in thirty minutes.
Grumbling, he climbed out of his oversized bed. “Start my shower.”
Of course, the automated voice continued. Your coffee will be brewed by the time you are finished.
“Thank you.”
Water temperature perfect, he got cleaned up and took the time to jack off to the numerous memories he had of Neela’s touch. He never found her.
Three months. Three long months and he couldn’t get her out of his head.
Or my dreams.
Dried and dressed, he grabbed his coffee that had been streamed into his travel mug, then rode the elevator down from his penthouse to the first floor. Striding across the floor, each step making a sound from the heels of his shoes, he lifted his mug in acknowledgement of the man behind the front desk.
“Morning, Mr. Perrot.” The driver opened the door for him as he neared.
“Good morning, Brenden.”
In the back, he stared at the schedule on his phone. Monday’s were always busy. He leaned back and went through some emails as he was driven through the streets as a light snow fell. Brenden had classical on, keeping him mellow as they navigated the crazy morning traffic to get him to his destination.
Hours later, he pushed back from his desk and made his way to the door. Opening it, he froze at the hauntingly familiar sounds of a voice, no matter how he tried, he was unable to purge from his memory banks.
Neela.
Surely it can’t be. Not states away from where I met her. And enjoyed every inch of her.
Staring out, he didn’t see anyone other than his secretary, but he could see the all too familiar sway of an ass heading away.
“Mr. Perrot,” his secretary began as he came out.
“I’ll be back.”
Hurrying down the hall, he reached the elevator bay just as the door were closing. He lunged and shoved his hand in there, halting the closure.
As they opened, he entered the car, pleased it was only the two of them in there and met her gaze.
“Good after—”
She clamped her mouth shut, eyes wide as she stared up at him. He understood he appeared imposing, he was supposed to.
He gave her a small grin unable to help himself, she put the cold heartless business man away in a tiny corner that had zero light. “Hello, Neela.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” Her words, not so much muttered while her gaze raked him up and down, full of blatant hunger and shock, as she swore.
“You snuck away.”
He had so many questions for her. Why she left without a word and why she was standing before him with her hands on the mail cart.
“What are you doing here?” She gestured behind him. “And on that floor?”
His grin wouldn’t leave his face. All this time, all those sleepless nights and hot and bothered dreams, now she was right here.
“Baby, this is my company.”
Those eyes of hers, big chocolate drops, grew wide once more.
“You? No way, you’re not Mr. Latner.”
“No baby, I’m Mr. Perrot. The other business partner.”
Neela needed to sit. Her legs shook so bad she wasn’t quite positive how long she could stay upright. Or, honestly, if she was standing at all.
What level of hell had she crashed into?
Just my luck I end up shagging a boss of a company I work for.
“I don’t suppose you would be okay with forgetting this entire thing?”
He shook his head but remained silent that sexy smirk still there. Damn but she wanted to hurdle the cart in front of her and scale him like a damn tree and kiss him. So many sleepless nights and intense dreams about his body and touch on her.
That’s not even touching the way he calls me baby. Christ, I’m ready to come just from that alone. Either that or shove my hand down the front of my jeans and frig myself until I explode.
The night they’d fucked on the forty-fourth floor he’d been sexy in his casual attire. Now in this three-piece suit, suffice to say, she should just hand over her panties now for they were as useful as a pea shooter on an elephant.
The dark gray pinstripe suit she had no doubt cost more than what she made at both jobs combined. It had been made to fit him and him alone. The drape over broad shoulders, the way the pants hugged his lean hips.
He looked sexy, disgustingly arrogant, put together, and she desperately wanted to mess him up. Take that picture-perfect hair and tumble her fingers through it. Remove his tie and undo each pearl gray button to expose the broad expanse of his chest beneath. No longer clean shaven, he wore scruff like he’d developed it to be sexy because holy fuck it was. She wanted to experience it against her skin, between her legs. Neela’s gut clenched once more.
Skim her tongue along the taut bronzed skin as his masculine scent filled her nose. He smelled of darkly sensual sandalwood and something she couldn’t name other than calling it Jack.
Here and
now, within the confines of the elevator car his scent wove around her, tempting her. Teasing her. It wound around her with viperlike sinuosity and charm. Mesmerizing while it called to her on a visceral level.
The door opened, and he stepped aside, allowing her to step out into the basement of the building. Neela captured her lower lip in her mouth as she moved by him and proceeded on her way, all without looking back at him. It wouldn’t do for her to be caught lusting after the boss.
Not at all.
Surely she was safe down here why would the top dog hang out in the mailroom. She wanted to forget their night together, not that it wasn’t something she thought about all the time, but because it was getting in the way of her everyday life. She had to stop daydreaming about a man so unattainable to her it wasn’t worth her stopping to dream.
“I have my own plans,” she asserted as she waved at two of the others down there.
“What are you muttering about, Neela?” Paulson Torres asked her as she moved the cart beside him.
“Nothing worth repeating, promise. Just blubbering about my plans.”
“Where you get rich and take care of all of us?”
She laughed and curved her arm around him. “I told you, when I strike it rich, I will take care of you and your girls.”
The man was the sole provider for his twin nieces, Mikayla and MacKenzye. Their mother, his sister and her best friend, died a year ago, and he’d been struggling ever since. The four of them shared a place, it helped them both, and she doted on the girls. Her goddaughters.
They got back to work and were listening to music and jamming when their boss stuck his head in the room.
“Fitzgerald!”
“Yes sir?” She placed a package on the cart to take back up.
“Boss wants to see you.”
She winked at Paulson. Turning to face Timothy Harden, she strode over to the tall, reed thin man that looked like the very definition of a ginger. Pale skin, freckles, and that beacon red head of hair.
“About?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Not me. The big boss.”
It took her brain a moment to register who he spoke about. Big boss. Upstairs. The man she knew as Jack.
