Tempting the CEO (a Sleeping With The Enemy novella) (Entangled Brazen) by Angela Claire

Author:Angela Claire [Claire, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Angela Claire, sexy CEO, hot romance, CEO, Brazen, romance, office affairs, Entangled, sexy romance, Tempting the CEO, contemporary romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2014-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Sometimes it hurt like hell to have professional ethics. But he was, like, kind of on the other side. I doubt my negotiating skills would be sluggish from the additional orgasms he would undoubtedly foist on me, but who the hell knew? There was a reason they made these kind of rules up, wasn’t there?

Besides, somehow knowing who he was—having him know who I was—took some of the lighthearted feel out of the whole thing. That and the fact that he didn’t particularly seem to care one way or the other. He didn’t ask anything more about my real life or my real job or my real anything other than that lame “what about you” back out on the sidewalk. And he dropped that pretty darn quickly at the slightest rebuff from me in favor of checking me out. In fact, he’d done more trying to get to know me when I was pretending to be Suzy. Of course then he’d also been trying to get into my panties.

So what did I expect?

Well, great sex, yeah. But did the fact that he now knew where I’d gone to college and seen me in working mode make me want him to respect me more?

See, this was why I wasn’t good at hookups. He was still reminiscing about my perky breasts—and trying to get another look at them as we spoke, having made short work of the top few buttons on my shirt—and I was hoping he’d ask me what my grade point average had been when I graduated. It was pathetic.

“No.” I meant to snap it out, but it didn’t come out that way. It sounded more playful than I intended it to be. I guess I wasn’t quite on my game after the four or five orgasms he’d already given me last night.

He slid my shirt down my shoulders, his warm, knowing mouth already quite familiar with all the sensitive points on his way down to the curve of my breasts. The hollow at the base of my throat. The soft skin beneath my collarbone. My head fell back, eyes closed, as he lingered at each of them, relearning what made me arch and moan, a flick of his tongue here, a press of his lips there. He tugged my skirt up in back, working in slow arousing caresses up to each cheek of my bottom.

“See? Isn’t this better than brunch?” he whispered.

Oh, God. I could really get used to this.

With a firm pressure, he urged my hips up to meet his, the throbbing I could feel deep between my legs answering the throbbing of his jutting cock. I gripped his shoulders through the expensive silk of his dress shirt and rubbed against him as shamelessly as a stripper pole dancing. He latched onto one nipple still covered by my bra and nipped, and I almost came from that, his erection grinding into me and his teeth scraping my nipple through the layer of cloth.

And I kind of really wanted to come, hard and fast, his sure hands and his talented mouth all over me.

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