Talking Dirty with the CEO (8 page)

“Christie,” Joseph murmured in a low voice against her mouth. “You’d better decide if you want to do this interview or not and you’d better decide quick. Because honey, I want you and I’m not much good at waiting.” The rough demand in the question raised all the hairs along her arms, along the back of her neck. Made her shiver.

She glanced up at him. Color burned along his cheekbones, eyes glittering. The expression on his face so blatantly hungry she almost couldn’t believe it was real.

Joseph Ashton, gorgeous billionaire, wanted her.

Yet a remaining sliver of doubt slid under her skin. That night in his apartment had been incredible, but she’d been Naughtygirl then. Could she do the same as Christie?

“I…I don’t know,” she murmured, uncertain.

“What don’t you know?” The question had an unexpected softness to it.

“I’m not experienced, okay?” Wanting him to know right up front so there could be no mistake. So he knew what to expect. In case there was any…disappointment. “I haven’t had many relationships.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Christie.”

“I’m not saying it is. It’s just if you expect, uh, something more exciting, then—”

“I’m not expecting anything. Whatever you want to give me will be spectacular.”

“Spectacular?” It wasn’t a word she was accustomed to hearing in relation to herself.

“Oh yeah.” His thumb rubbed along her jaw, a gentle movement. Making her shiver. “Absolutely. Let’s find out, shall we?”

He slid his hand behind her head and then, exerting a gentle, irresistible pressure, drew her forward to meet his mouth once more.

A slow, deliberate kiss. Carried out with skill and with an intensity that left her trembling. Then it became hotter, deeper, an exacting, familiar hunger taking hold inside her. One that left no room for shyness or inhibitions. A hunger that had no patience with nervousness or awkwardness.

She wanted him. Dear God, she wanted him.

His hand pushed her thick ponytail over one shoulder, his mouth dropping to the sensitive skin below her ear. She gasped, shuddering, and heard him make a satisfied sound deep in his throat. His lips moved along her neck, down toward her collarbone.

“Joseph,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” His voice was a caress against her skin. “I’m seducing you. I told you I would.”

An arm slid around her waist, pulling her against him. She gave a soft gasp, one hand aiming for his knee to steady herself and brushing something else near his groin. Something hard.

Oh. Wow.

Joseph tensed, biting out a soft curse.

Christie moved her hand again, unable to stop herself, tracing the outline of his arousal beneath the soft wool of his trousers.

“Oh my, God,” she breathed. “Is this for me?” The question popped out before she could stop it and she felt herself flushing.

His muscles had gone rigid beneath her hand. “That one of your interview questions?”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of her. “Uh, no.”

“You have the dirtiest laugh I’ve ever heard, you know that?”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Oh yeah, very good. And in answer to your initial question, yes, that’s all for you. I mean, I love my stereo but not that much.”

Wonder swept through her, along with a sense of feminine power that was new.

No, she didn’t want to do this dumb interview. Didn’t want to stop kissing him. She’d never felt this kind of power before and she wanted to explore it.

Besides, it didn’t have to mean anything. She could have another night and then walk away. And that would be okay because she didn’t want any more. No, she didn’t need the complication of a man in her life. Especially a man like Joseph.

One night of hot sex and that would be it. Yep. Definitely.

Christie sighed, need rising inside her, unfolding like a flower, letting her lose herself in the heat of Joseph’s mouth on hers.

His hand moved from her waist, sliding up over the cotton of her T-shirt to cup one small, round breast in his palm. She groaned, fire flashing along her nerve endings, making her shake.

“Come on, Naughtygirl,” he said, “time to visit my sheepskin rug.”

Chapter Six

Christie gave a small squeak as she was lifted off the couch. Then she put her arms around Joseph’s neck, turning her face against his throat, unable to resist the urge to inhale the spicy, masculine scent of him. Oh, she could so do this. Be a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of woman. Have some fun with a hot guy, then move on. And what a guy to have fun with. “My hero,” she whispered.

He laughed, the deep sound of it vibrating against her where she nestled against his chest. “It’s all self-interest, believe me. This is the quickest way to get you naked.”

The bedroom was huge, the curtains drawn back to let in the night, the bed right up near the windows, a vast expanse of white sheets and pillows.

Putting her down on the edge of it, he knelt at her feet, his long, lean body pressed against her legs, his arms braced on either side of her thighs.

The smile on his face began to fade, replaced by something much more stark. “I want to see you. Take off your T-shirt.”

Unease began to cut through her desire and she had to take a tiny breath, trying to fight it.

There was nothing to be afraid of here. She wanted him and he wanted her. No problem, right? It was easy. You just grabbed the hem and pulled.

And yet, for some reason, she couldn’t do it. Her palms were clammy and her throat felt tight. So much for being a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of woman.

Joseph clearly sensed her hesitation. And for a long second he just looked at her, searching her face.

Then his hands were beneath her arms, hauling her onto the white sheets as he followed her down onto the bed, his long, powerful body pressing between her thighs. She gasped, arching up, and he kissed her, his mouth demanding.

All her doubt vanished. She’d never been sexually confident, but now it was as if some other woman had taken over. A demanding woman who knew what she wanted and went out to get it. Her hands began pulling his shirt out from the waistband of his trousers, slipping under the material to touch the bare skin of his back. He was so hot her palms tingled where she touched.

Joseph made an impatient sound and pushed himself away from her. Kneeling between her legs, he then took his shirt off, discarding it over the side of the bed. Christie stared, unable to take her eyes away from the exquisite contours of his chest and stomach. This was a body earned by hard, physical exercise, the lines of his abdomen sharply defined, chest and upper arms corded with muscle. Oh, but he was beautiful. That demanding woman inside her urged her to touch him and she did, Joseph watching, his eyes shadowed in the darkness of the room. His skin felt smooth, roughened by whorls of black hair, and she let her fingers follow the dips and hollows of the sculpted pectoral and abdominal muscles.

“Do you like what you see?” His voice edged and rough with desire.

He really had to ask? But when she glanced up at him she saw that yes, he expected an answer. Almost as if
he
wanted
her
approval.

“Yes,” she breathed, loving the fact that he’d asked. Loving the fact that her answer made the look in his eyes intensify. For good measure, she added, “But I have to admit, I’m kind of hoping for the leopard-print thong.”

His mouth curled, his breathing hitching. He reached down and placed her fingers on the zip of his trousers. “Why don’t you find out, Naughtygirl?”

Christie’s mouth went dry. Sitting up, her fingers tightened on the zipper and slowly she pulled it down.

Not a thong. Tight-fitting boxer briefs instead, clearly outlining the long, hard length of him.

“Oh,” she sighed. Releasing the zipper, she reached out a hand, but his fingers closed around her wrist.

“Not yet,” he chided. “Now it’s your turn.”

Christie swallowed.

“It’s okay,” Joseph said. “Let me do it.” He reached for the hem of her T-shirt, beginning to lift it.

But Christie pushed his hands away. And when he dropped them, she grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it off over her head before she could think twice about it. Then she met his gaze, defiant. Man, one word about her skinniness or lack of curves, and she’d be out of here. Out of here so fast his head would spin.

Joseph looked at her, his eyes taking in every aspect of her body before returning to her face.

Then he reached for her, sliding his hands down her body, shaping every dip and hollow with gentleness, reverence. As if she were beautiful.

As if she were perfect.

A small tremor shook her and Joseph’s hands stilled. He looked down into her eyes and she knew he’d felt her shake. Knew he’d seen fear.

Fear that she wouldn’t be good enough for him.

How bloody humiliating.

The need to run gathered inside her, but then Joseph’s fingers slid into her hair, pulling out her ponytail, letting the soft mass of it flow over her shoulders. And as his fingers tangled in her curls, tugging her head back, the need began to seep away. There was a fierce, intent look on his face. He didn’t say anything, just bent his head and kissed her again, gentle at first, then more insistent, drawing their bodies together, skin to skin. His hands slid around her back, undoing her bra, drawing the straps down and off her shoulders. She shivered as it fell away, bringing her hands up to cover herself, an automatic gesture. But Joseph, lifting his mouth from hers, circled her wrists in an iron grip, holding them down at her sides. Her heart thudding in her chest, Christie met his gaze.

“You are beautiful,” he said softly, emphatically. “Believe it.”

And just like that, the urge to run vanished.

Maybe she could believe it. When he looked at her like that, she could believe anything.

Tension eased, loosening its grip on her muscles so that when he released her wrists, her arms stayed at her sides and she let him look at her. His hands settled on her hips and he bent his head, pressing a kiss to her throat. Christie closed her eyes as she felt his hands slide up her body until they cupped her breasts, her nipples hard against his palms. Her breathing became ragged and she let out a small moan as his lips brushed against her sensitized skin.

The moan turned into a gasp, the heat of his mouth closing around one nipple. A hand pressed into her back, steadying her, preventing her from pulling away from him, and she gasped again, the sensation of his mouth on her breast becoming more intense by the minute.

Oh God, she was drowning and it felt so damn good. So right.

She almost didn’t register it when his long, clever fingers began undoing her jeans, easing them down to her knees. Then he pushed her down on the bed on her back, tugging them the rest of the way off. It was only when he sat up and away from her that she realized that somehow, he’d also pulled off her panties so she was lying on the bed naked. And that at some point along the way, he’d gotten rid of the rest of his clothing as well.

Habit made her raise her hands in another attempt to cover herself. But Joseph pressed his palms to hers, pushing her hands down on the bed on either side of her head, their fingers intertwined. Then he eased his body over hers.

His weight settled down on her, the heat of him burning her skin. Unbelievable. She’d never needed anything as badly as she needed to touch him right now, but her hands were trapped under his, and though she pushed against the contact, he didn’t let her go.

Instead he looked down at her. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes.” She’d never been readier in her entire life.

“Then there’s only one more thing we need.”

He brought out a silver packet from one of the bedside tables, and understanding dawned. Good thing he’d remembered, because she hadn’t.

Moments later, he pushed her down, his body moving between her legs. His hands lifted her. She gasped and then cried out as he entered her in one smooth, fluid movement.

Then he stopped, braced on his arms above her. “Look at me,” he whispered.

Helplessly, Christie obeyed. His gaze held hers. She felt like she was falling upward into night, drowning in the dark depths of his eyes. His hands moved to the back of her knees, lifting her legs up and around his waist, settling himself deeper inside her. She panted, flames of pleasure igniting everywhere.

“You’re so hot,” Joseph whispered as he bent to kiss her throat. “In every sense of the word.”

She took an uneven breath. “And you…you are…” But she couldn’t finish because he began to move at that point, a slow, experimental push. “Oh, God…” She sighed, losing track of what she’d been going to say. It didn’t matter. Right now nothing mattered but the pleasure uncurling inside her. Dark and sweet and wild.

He bent his head, nipping the sensitive cord at the side of her neck, sending a small, electric thrill right through her. One hand was braced beside her head; the other began to touch her, his thumb circling one aching nipple as she moaned, urging her body closer to his exploring fingers. His movements got faster and Christie’s thought processes ceased to function.

Someone was moaning, a deep, primal sound, and Christie knew it was coming from her. But she couldn’t have stopped the sounds he brought from her even if her life had depended on it.

“Yes…” His voice was rough and soft as velvet. “That’s right…I want to know you like it…”

So she made the sound again, running her hands down the muscular curve of his back. Digging her nails into his skin and hearing him hiss with pleasure in response. She loved the way she affected him as much as he affected her.

“Minx,” he murmured. “You marking me up?”

“Yeah.” She struggled to speak. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“How about this?” He moved his hand down farther between them, down to where they were joined, stroking her, adding another layer of pleasure.

“Oh, yeah… That works for me.” Christie felt herself being drawn tighter and tighter, a thread being stretched farther and farther. She cried out and, unbelievably, Joseph slowed down. “No,” she gasped, “No…please…don’t stop.” Her legs tightened around his waist as if preventing his escape, her hands gripping his shoulders for dear life.

He took a shuddering breath. “Do you want it, honey? Shall I end it now?”

Christie turned her head, seeking and finding his mouth, kissing him passionately, giving him the answer he needed. In response he began to move hard and fast inside her, driving them both toward the edge and then, in a blaze of light, over it.

She cried out, wild and helpless before the pleasure that engulfed her, hardly noticing when Joseph turned his face into her hair, his groan of release a warm vibration against her neck as it took him as well.

Afterward, Christie lay panting beneath him. She felt as if she’d been shattered into thousands of pieces and then put back together again, creating something new. Something different.

Something wonderful.

…

Joseph lay on his back, trying to catch his breath. Trying to figure out just what the hell had happened. Because he was pretty sure something had. Something along the lines of Christie St. John blowing his freaking mind.

Patience had never been his thing, and yet he’d found himself not only having to fight his basic instinct to immediately throw her on the bed and have her hard and fast, but wanting to fight it, too. Wanting to take it slow.

The vulnerability beneath her defiance as she’d pulled off her T-shirt had touched him on a level he didn’t know he possessed. Had made him aware of the trust she’d placed in him. Made him feel so crazily protective, a feeling he’d never experienced about a lover before.

What the hell had she done to him?

He turned his head.

Christie lay on her stomach, her chin pillowed on her hands, watching him. Glossy russet curls cascaded all over the pale skin of her back, her shoulders, her arms, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch it, letting the silky strands sift through his fingers.

She grinned. “Now, about that interview.”

Joseph laughed. “Seriously?”

“What? You think I came here just for the sex?”

“Actually, yeah.”

“Okay, so maybe I did.”

Joseph wound a curl around one finger, stroking his thumb back and forward across it. “Of course you did. I’m irresistible.”

“Wow, smug much?”

“Hey, I’ve got a gorgeous woman in my bed who’s responsive to my every whim. Smug is only half of it.”

Even in the darkness of the room, he could see the pink rising over her skin. “Your every whim? You wish.” She blinked and glanced away, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “So…uh…what do we do now? Do you want me to go? Or stay? Or…what?”

Joseph stopped rubbing the curl between his fingers. “Why on earth would I want you to go?”

“I don’t know, but you might.” She began to smooth the white cotton of her pillow with her hands. “Sorry, that’s probably a dumb question but…well, the only men I’ve slept with, I’ve been in a relationship with.”

Joseph let out a soft breath. He reached out, pulling her into the circle of his arms, her back pressed up against his stomach, the curve of her bottom fitting in the hollow of his groin. Jesus, he was getting hard again.

“Did I say I wanted you to go?” he growled into the sweet-smelling curve of her neck.

“No.” A soft denial, but he could feel tension in her as she rested against him.

The smart move would be to let her go now, before she got hurt. Before she started to expect things from him he’d never be able to give her. But the sad fact was, he didn’t want to. Not now. He wanted a whole night with her and, dammit, he was going to have it.

“Right,” he said softly. “Let’s clear up these expectations now then, okay?”

She remained tense. “Okay.”

Joseph rolled her onto her back so he could see her face. Her eyes had that wary look again, which wasn’t acceptable. Not after the the passionate way she’d screamed his name.

“One night, Christie. I want one whole night with you.”

The lights of the city outside played over her pale skin. “One night, huh?”

“Yes.” He touched her cheek delicately. “Be with me, Naughtygirl.”

“Okay, but tomorrow I’m gone. I’m…not looking for anything else.”