Caught on Camera with the CEO (8 page)

She tore free of his kiss and gulped in air. But no matter how many breaths she took she still felt dizzy. She stared at him, shocked at the need still rampaging through her defences. So easily he had won this from her. So much for staying away—so much for either of them having self-control.

‘What do you think about a truce?' She was panting too much for the question to come out as tart as she'd have liked.

He lifted his hand and ran the tip of his finger over her lips. She gasped again.

‘We can delay a little longer if you like. But this is inevitable.'

She wanted to shake her head but it felt heavy and she
couldn't move it. Passion shone in his eyes, pleasure and satisfaction broadened his smile.

‘We're flatmates,' she finally managed. ‘We can be friends but we can't…' She trailed off as he laughed.

‘Honey, we can't be friends. Not 'til we've burned this out.' He nudged her chin with his thumb. ‘After that we can—I get on well with all my ex-lovers.'

Oh. Was that so? ‘Regular Lothario, aren't you?' Dani drawled, sarcasm dripping.

‘Well, you have your
joy
boys—right?' His smile had sharp edges. ‘Nothing wrong with liking sex, Dani. It's natural.'

Slack jawed, she could no longer cope with his subtle-as-a-brick sensuality. Because the worst thing about it was that it made her body burn hotter. ‘I need to freshen up.'

‘Coward.'

 

How long was it possible to live with an Empire-State-Building-size erection? Alex wondered whether there was an entry in the Guinness Book of Records and knew with certainty that if there was, he was going to beat it.

‘You're taking her home?'

‘To her separate little bedroom, yes.'

Lorenzo laughed. ‘That won't last long.'

Alex leant his shoulder against the wall. From here he could see when she exited the bathroom. ‘It's complicated.'

‘Yeah. The whole Internet movie, invent her a job, move her into your home kind of complicated.'

Alex shook his head. Lorenzo didn't know the half of it. He didn't know the whole I-just-found-out-who-my-father-really-is nightmare yet. And it was a nightmare. Alex swept a quick glance around the room, couldn't see the bastard. How dared Patrick just appear like that—what was he trying
to do? What did he want? Well, whatever it was, he wasn't getting it.

That was really what was eating Alex alive, not some five-foot-nothing sexy piece of a woman. He sighed as the thought of Dani made his whole body ache with need. ‘It was your dumb idea to move her in to my place.'

‘Thought it might be convenient.' Lorenzo chuckled.

Alex shot him a filthy look and drained the last of his juice. OK, so she was eating him up too. But he could deal with lust, couldn't he? Wasn't he Alex Carlisle? Didn't he have a phone full of names and numbers of wannabe dates? If he wanted sex he could get it, no problem.

But he'd happily fling the thing in the harbour. Normally he did a few dates, a few laughs, never anything complicated and certainly not committed—a two-months sort of man, that was him. Women were for fun, nothing more—he was never having anything more. But now he wanted sex with only one woman. The scent of her incited an untapped depth of hunger in him. He didn't know how he was going to assuage it. There were so many options, so many fantasies swirling in his head all the damn time.

So much of it was the game, wasn't it? The hunt, the chase, the challenge she threw at him. Since when had he had to work for it like this—or to wait? Usually he didn't bother if someone was giving him the hard-to-get routine. He wasn't that desperate. But Dani was different. She didn't want a ‘relationship'. Fantastic. But her determined denial of a fun fling bit him hard. This time the game was everything. Oh, yeah, he was getting off on every minute of it and doing everything he could to aggravate a response from her.

He straightened as he saw her appear. If he were to judge by the look on her face he wasn't getting any further with her
tonight, but, judging by the tension in her body, he figured he had another shot. And he was damn well taking it.

 

Dani waited with him for the lift and focused on her breathing—the last of her Alex-induced heat doused by the fear of the few seconds to come. So stupid to be like this. But every time she got into a small space her stomach knotted and all the oxygen vanished. Every time she remembered the darkness, and the silence—the terrifying silence that had been shattered by that vicious thud.

Alex pulled her into the hideous rectangle. ‘Look at me.' He pointed to his eyes. ‘Look right here.'

She glared at him. Cross with his patronising attitude. ‘Look, I'm not some mad cow and you're not some animal whisperer with a mesmerising gaze.'

‘Dani.' He took her upper arms in his broad hands and gently shook her. ‘You're totally a mad cow.'

‘Yeah.' She barely registered her pathetic reply because he did have magical green eyes. They were twinkling right now and imparting some kind of secret message.

She stumbled as he let her go with an ironic murmur. ‘Look at that—we're on the ground already.'

As they walked to his car the dark quiet night seemed to swallow them. The thick silence kept them company all the drive home.

She climbed the stairs. Her pulse stepping up a notch, and then another, then more in rapid succession until she was filled with more adrenalin than when she'd been frozen with fear in the cupboard that day.

He pressed buttons for the alarm system. She heard the keys land on the wood of the table and walked even faster, keen to get to her room,
alone
. He caught her arm, his hand
sliding to her wrist. She stopped. He had to feel that galloping rhythm in her veins. She heard him step closer and fought to keep the feeling of fear. That would give her strength.

He kissed the nape of her neck, kept near enough for her to feel his breath warm her skin. ‘When were you last serviced, sweetheart?' The smile was soft in his voice. ‘Seems to me you're in need of a tune-up.'

Dani couldn't breathe, let alone answer. All the old fear dissolved—
she
was dissolving.

His laugh was low and sexy. ‘You said about your men, Dani, but it's all a tale.'

‘What makes you think that?'

‘Because when it comes down to the moment, you hesitate.' He turned her to face him. ‘You're not off having one-night stands all over the place or maintaining an assortment of lovers. You go so far, and, honestly, it's not even that far. Then you stop.'

All talk and no action, huh? OK, so there might be some truth in that. Not that she'd admit to it.

‘I'm even starting to wonder if you're a virgin,' he teased.

She choked. OK, so she didn't have anywhere near the kind of experience she'd implied, but she wasn't that. She looked at the third button down on his shirt and assumed a bored tone. ‘Maybe I'm just not that into you.'

‘Oh, but you are.' He bent so it wasn't his buttons she saw but his smile—the one that lit up his whole face. ‘Want me to prove it to you?'

His pursuit was in earnest now. She could see the determination, the seriousness in his eyes, feel it in every deliberate touch. He'd said that they were inevitable. And if she were honest she'd have to agree. So why was she bothering with the fight? Why not give in?

Because she didn't want to be his latest prize. Sure, he was
compelling, charming. But he was also competitive, driven to win. She suspected he could be ruthless about that. He'd been born to succeed and obviously thrived on it. And right now
she
was the challenge—but that was all she was. She felt like a bug in the path of a steamroller. And there was that innate part of her that always fought—not to be the statistic, not to do the expected, never to give up or give in.

But most of all she didn't want to open herself up. Because she had the feeling that Alex would take more than she intended to give. She liked to be in control of her emotions—but she couldn't see herself keeping that control in his arms. Not when he made her feel like some mindless nympho with just one kiss and a pet or two. So, even in the face of the impossible, she made her stand.

‘Actually I'll pass, Alex.' She walked to the relative safety of the doorway. Then she went for the flick-off. ‘You know, you're right, it has been a while. I found my servicemen to be a little lacking. But, you know, a girl can do so much better for herself.' She fluttered her fingers up past her breast, to her mouth, and watched his slightly stunned expression widen even more. ‘Infinitely more reliable. Satisfying.' She ran the tip of her index finger across her lower lip, let her tongue touch it briefly. ‘I can take care of my needs myself. I don't need anyone else.'

H
EAVY-HEADED
and grumpy, Dani dragged herself from bed more frustrated than a sex addict trapped in solitary for three years. Because that was exactly what she was, wasn't it? Some kind of sad addict—craving for his touch, his kiss. It was just because it had been ages, right? That was why her hips were so keen to wriggle now. But her hips had never wanted to wriggle as bad as this.

She imprisoned them in her most conservative black skirt and topped it with a pale blue blouse. Thick black opaque tights helped keep her legs warm and hidden and her wedge-heeled shoes gave her some help in the height department—stilettos weren't something her ex-tomboy self could walk in.

She brushed her hair, took care applying her usual light layer of make-up. Armour. She needed conservative today.

She stared at the finished result in the mirror and sighed. The frustration was evident on her face—her increased pallor, the shadows under her eyes. Hell, she was letting him mess with her looks. Not good. Was she becoming as much of a victim as her mother? Letting a man upset the life she was trying so hard to get on track?

Maybe, she should just have sex with him and be done with it. She wanted to—
how
she wanted to. And wasn't she over-
analysing the whole thing? Wasn't she overstating the effect he had on her? Wasn't it just because she hadn't had sex in eons? Couldn't he be exactly the kind of fling she'd said she did—routine ‘maintenance'. No emotion. No complication. Just fun—it was just sex, after all. And once done, it was done. Why, then they could be
friends
.

That was how he did it, right? He'd said it was
just sex, just fun
. Surely if she went in eyes wide-open, she wouldn't make the mistake of making more of it. Surely with this awareness, she could stay in control?

She walked down the stairs into the kitchen. Got halfway to the pantry before she finally looked at him and stopped—impaled by his intense stare. Long moments disappeared into a vortex while he somehow looked over every inch of her outfit yet held her eyes captive with his.

Her nipples tightened; so did the muscles in her womb. It wasn't going away. And it was only getting worse.

Owl-like, she closed her eyes and moved her head down, opening her eyes again, she saw her shirt and skirt. She hadn't realised it, but it was the exact outfit she'd been wearing that day in the lift. OK, maybe she had realised but had been in denial. The look in his eyes had told her he remembered too.

‘Have a good night?' he asked way too intensely. ‘Enjoy playing by yourself in that big bed?'

Oh, yeah, her hollow words came back to haunt her. What a joke that had been. She'd shifted round restlessly the whole night. She wanted only one thing—his body filling hers. She frowned.

He leaned back against the bench and ran his hand up his chest to his heart, drawing
her
attention to
his
fine physique displayed in his crisp white shirt. ‘Don't ruin my fantasy
now.' He tilted his head, studied her with half-closed eyes and a smile born of wickedness. ‘You know I'd love to watch.'

‘Pervert.' But she felt the blush covering her skin. Even worse a ripple of excitement stirred in her belly. She couldn't really
want
like this, could she?

She moved. The pantry. Cereal. Breakfast. Then work. But her blood pounded, deafening her. She'd had enough of this starvation. She went into the small room and tried to find some food—what had happened to his host act? Why hadn't he made her breakfast?

She heard a sound, glanced behind her, his body filled the frame of the doorway into this tiny space.

Ragged-breathed, butter-fingered, trembling—she couldn't even pour the cereal.

‘Is it the small space? That's what's upsetting you so much?'

So he'd noticed—hard not to when she'd dropped the box of crunchy clusters twice already.

Her mouth was dry. The swallow hurt. ‘No.'

‘Then why are you so on edge?'

She spun on her toes to face him, now he stood a mere whisper away. ‘You know why.'

He held her gaze as he had only minutes before. The green of his eyes disappeared in the darkness as his pupils swelled.

She was fascinated. And suddenly she was decided. She was determined—in control. ‘If we do this,' she said firmly, ‘then you're with no one else while I'm with you.'

His eyes flashed fire. ‘Do you really think it necessary to make that clear?'

‘You kiss complete strangers in elevators. Of course it's necessary.'

‘Yeah, well, you admit to spreading your legs like margarine for a whole
variety
of men. So no other lovers for you, either.'

She adopted a faux crushed look, gave an equally faux sigh. ‘It'll be hard. But I guess I can find the discipline somehow.'

He lifted his hand and waved his palm at her. ‘I can help you with discipline if you want, honey.'

Her jaw dropped. ‘Don't you dare.'

His low laughter sent waves of want pulsing from her belly outwards.

‘It's
my
turn to dare.' She wrested back the lead.

He sobered instantly. ‘What do you want me to do?'

Her answer was short. Explicit. And very, very naughty.

‘Now?' He was already moving.

‘Yes.'

‘Here?'

‘Just hurry up.' She reached for him with both hands, mouth open.

Ravenous.

He met her more than halfway. The pressure of his lips bruised but still it wasn't close enough. She mewled into his mouth and pushed her whole body closer. And what had begun that day in the lift surged forward, continuing at break-neck speed towards the only possible conclusion. She rubbed against him, so eager to explore him, to have his thighs between hers, to have his hands there too, his mouth and most of all his rock-hard penis. Everything, all at once. Right now.

He moved, kissing her cheek, her neck, down to her chest, pulling the shirt aside so he could access skin. She fumbled with buttons, cursing when they wouldn't undo as fast as she needed them to. She grabbed his hair and yanked, bringing his mouth back to hers. She gasped for air when she could and dived straight back into the heat of his kisses, the need burning her up. She arched against him, her hips writhing round and round in a mad rhythm.

Now.
She wanted him there now.

He ripped his lips from hers. Swore. ‘I don't want to stop.'

‘Hell, no,
don't
.' Feverish, she raked her hands down his back, urging him closer.

‘Contraception,' he cursed. ‘I don't want to screw up this situation even more.'

‘I'm covered.' She nipped his mouth angrily. ‘I'm never having an unplanned pregnancy. Get on with it.'

Still he paused. ‘I've never want—'

‘Me, either.'

Passion spiralled higher. Never had she wanted a man to be inside her the way she wanted him. She worked fast, desperate to get her hands on his bare skin. Feral, crazed. Fabric tore and buttons burst.

Her fingers curled into his hard muscles, not just testing their strength, but provoking a forceful response with her sharp little nails. She wanted him—his body, his strength, his absolute attention.

Now.

Alex had never had such animal sex, ever. Usually he was courteous, making sure his partner was well satisfied before allowing his own release. It was frivolous, frisky, carefree. This was anything but. This felt like a battle to the death. He seized her round the waist as he had that day, pleasure rippling through his muscles as they exerted, lifting her up and pinning her back against the wall. Now he could press against her. Now he could have her.

She was still fighting like a wildcat—wanting him with an aggression that matched his. Tearing his shirt free of his trousers, she pulled at the buttons. Busy fighting for what she wanted while he was fighting to get what he wanted—her naked.

It was a mess. She was wearing tights and neither of them
could get them off her. In the end he got them as far down as her calves and then stepped over the stretchy Lycra so she could loop her legs around his waist. Her skirt was hitched up, her torn blouse hanging half open. He spared a half-second to suck a nipple into his mouth, bra and all. Her gasp felled him. He simply shredded her knickers. Oh, she was wet, and smelled so good and moved even better against the fingers he used to test her—clamping on them, promising insane pleasure.

Ready. So ready.

He moved. Suddenly, finally, thrust into her.

His heart seized.

The world fell away as he looked into her eyes, unable to move, unable to think, unable to believe how good he felt. How good
she
felt.

She too was frozen, her lips parted. In jagged bursts she released the breath she'd been holding. The moans that came with it were the sound of pure bliss.

It surged into him. Like a burst dam, emotion flooded him. Her fingers curled into his hair at the same moment. Wide eyed, shaking, she put her lips to his. Kissing him—the kind of soul-searing kiss that would have had him on his knees if he weren't suddenly imbued with the ability to handle superhuman sensations. Sensations so raw he thought he'd die silently screaming with the pleasure.

At last their movements matched. They worked together, locking into the dance so deeply now. She met his hard thrusts with forceful ones of her own. Taking him further, her legs curled tighter around him. Her mouth was open, lips full and swollen as she panted, and then moaned with delight. Her sounds matched the rhythm of their bucking hips. He too was grunting in time with each pound, half crazed with the way she
made his body sing. Trying harder and harder to get closer—to her, and to the blinding peak that was just out of reach.

He saw her bite down on her lips, her face screw tighter in agony as ecstasy approached. She was flushed with pleasure and that curling lock of hair flopped on the side of her face.

She was beautiful. Born for this. As was he. Her neck arched as she threw her head back and he couldn't resist the vulnerability of the soft skin.

Her scream sliced through his skin and bone, piercing right into his marrow. And instinct took over, driving his body. Surging harder, faster, seeing her ride the whole of the crest before he lost it entirely. A guttural shout ripped from him—hurting his throat, echoing relentlessly in the small room.

He kept his eyes closed. He felt the trickles down his face, his back. How the hell had they got so sweaty in what had surely been only a few minutes? He didn't think he'd ever catch his breath. With one hand he gripped the edge of the shelf behind her, trying to keep control, keep his mind conscious as the blackness threatened to trap him completely. The overwhelming feeling, that post-orgasmic relief, had him trembling.

Trembling?

Intense didn't cover it. His lungs burned as he strove to get more air in. At last he looked down at her. She looked shocked and she couldn't wipe her expression in time to hide it from him. But as he watched she shut it down; he saw the defensiveness veil her from him. All it did was make his body stir—made him want to hold her close and do all kinds of things with his hands and mouth. Because then she couldn't hide from him—not when it was like this between them. And what she hadn't been able to hide just then had satisfied him even more.

Out of control.
She'd been as out of control as him.

Thank goodness for that.

 

Dani summoned her last crumb of energy and pushed him away. She stumbled in the attempt to untangle her legs from his and he hopped free, pulling up his boxers and trousers, wiping the sweat from his brow with a broad palm.

Dani's limbs shook. She needed to get out of here. Not because she was stuck in a small space, hell, she hadn't known where she was for the last few minutes—couldn't have cared less. But she was in a far more scary zone now. All that mattered was getting away from him—quickly, so she could pull herself together again. Else she was going to launch herself back into his arms and beg for more—beg for everything.

Sex was sex? Fun? Meaningless?

That hadn't been either.

That had been the most intense experience of her life. So wild. So wonderful. So scarily insane.

He grabbed her by the wrist as she made it to the doorway. ‘We should talk, Dani.'

Um. Why? She didn't want a post-mortem on that moment. She wanted to wrap it up in tissue and put it pride of place in her memory chest.

‘Not necessary.' She aimed for casual, struggled to walk in a dignified way given the remnants of her knickers and tights were down round her ankles and her shoes were still on. ‘I have a job to get to,' she said shakily. ‘So do you.' She yanked off one shoe and freed her foot from the tights.

‘Work can wait.'

‘I'm not walking in an hour late because I slept with the boss.' Actually she really ought to forget it. Go to a hypnotist and have the memory erased or something.

‘I'm not your boss.'

‘Semantics.' She raced to her room. ‘I'll be ten minutes.'

She took twenty and that was still nowhere near long enough for her to recover. She was going to need a few centuries for that. Wow oh wow oh wow.

Who ever knew it could be like that? No wonder the man was so popular—and so confident.

He was ready and waiting downstairs, hair still drying from its obvious dunking in the shower. She looked away, heat flooding her. She didn't want to think about him naked in the shower.

‘Dani—'

‘Let's not, Alex,' she almost pleaded as she clipped down the stairs to the garage. ‘You were right, it was inevitable. But we've done it now.'

‘You think that's done?' He laughed. ‘You've got to be kidding.'

Not at all. Not doing it again would be the most sensible thing by
far
. She was too inexperienced to play with a champ like him. ‘Can we get going? It's only my second day on the job.'