Page 25 of Texting the Possessive CEO
“Thanks for tonight,” I say.
“Don’t mention it,” she murmurs, standing on the other side of the cubicles.
Her hands are crossed infrontof her, meaning she’s pushing the perfect round globes of her tits together without even meaning it. I’m a goddamn savage, but I can’t stop looking, can’t stop dreaming and imagining.
I could tear off that blouse, reveal her juicy, bouncy tits. Rip off her bra with my teeth, then greedily attack her nipples until she’sready for every inch I’m going to give her. I’d slide my hand down her belly, into her skirt, find her slick pussy and?—
Fucking stop.
She tilts her head at me. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking. Perhaps she likes it, or maybe she wants it too.
“What?” I ask when the tension gets to be too much.
“Nothing,” she says.
I walk around the cubicles, stopping just short of her. Her breathing gets quicker the closer I get. I never thought I’d be obsessed with a woman’sbreathing, but here we are. It’s like she’s beginning to moan without even meaning to.
“It’s not nothing,” I say, reaching forward to tuck her hair behind her ear. She turns her head toward me, reveling in my touch. “What’s wrong?”
I let my hand drop before I get carried away.
“It’s just what Ethan said,” she murmurs, shrugging. “When he said you have the right idea.”
“You’re curious about that?” I say, smirking. I’m relieved because it means this attraction isn’t one-sided.
“It’s just… well, you’re rich. You’re…” She waves her hand up and down at me.
I chuckle. “Well, you’re…” I do the same. “Too.”
That draws a musical laugh from her. “Thanks,” she says. “I know I shouldn’t pry into this.”
“It’s not some big mystery,” I tell her. “I don’t date. I work. I work out. And that’s about it. Ethan has been having some trouble lately, so he brings it up a lot. Me, I mean. Like he thinks being a bachelor is a cheat code.”
“Well, is it?” she asks.
I take another step closer. I can’t help it. Or maybe that’s a lie. Maybe I can.
I just don’t want to.
“In some ways, yes,” I admit. “I never have to leave work early. All my mental and creative and most of my physical energy can go to my work.”
“But?”
“Who said there’s abut?”
She shrugs. “It sounded like there was going to be one.”
“Or maybe you wanted there to be one.”
She rolls her eyes, forcing a laugh. But it comes out shaky and unsure. “Okay,sir.”
I take another step forward. A half-step, really, because another full step would send me straight into her. We’re so close now, our bodies are almost pressed right up against each other. She makes the most beautiful sound, a moan mixed with a sigh.
“I like it when you call mesir,” I groan.
“What was thebut?” She whispers.
I smirk. “You seem very needy for there to be one.”
