The One I Want

I like the way he takes his time tracing over my body, not coy about his gaze lingering longer in some places more than others. He doesn’t make me feel shy or ashamed, but the opposite. I feel brave and sexy around him. I feel empowered.

His body’s reaction also speaks volumes about his thoughts. I wiggle a little and then ask, “Are you in a hurry?”

Like a tiger protecting his pride, he rolls us over with such ease and care. His hand is under my head as he lays me down gently. Hovering over me, he pushes some wild strands of hair away from my face. “Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you?”

“Why is this crazy person yelling at me?”

“No.” He chuckles, but then takes his sweet time peering down my body and then into my eyes again. “I thought you were stunning. Your cheeks were pink from running and your hair was in a loose ball on your head. But the first things I noticed were your eyes and the happiness within them. There was something so incredible about that moment, like I finally knew what I’d been missing.”

His voice had grown softer through the confession, a sadness overcoming him.

I push the hair that’s fallen over his forehead to the side, and ask, “What were you missing?”

“Something to look forward to.” He kisses me quick and then pops off the bed. “I have no idea what you have planned, but let’s get dressed and go.”

When he disappears into the bathroom, I flop my arms out wide, and say, “And here I thought we were going to make love again. Silly me.”

The shower is started, and then he fills the doorway, leaning against it. Waggling his eyebrows, he calls me to him with a bend of his finger. “Who said we weren’t.”

It doesn’t take me more than a second to head into that bathroom. I fly into his arms and am pressed against the back of the door. He kisses me like we have all day to do it. We do, but it’s nice to see the busiest man I know slow down. He asks, “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.” I zip my lips and toss the key behind me.

He unzips my lips and then kisses them. “I like hearing you too much to ever zip those pretty lips. Always make sure you’re heard, babe. The one thing this world needs more of is you.”

Why does he have to be so sweet when I was hoping to get dirty in the shower? Now I just want to hug him. When I press myself to his body, I feel he’s ready to get naughty as well. Dragging him by the hands toward the shower stall, I say, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll make sure the entire world hears me.” I wink. “Or at least the building.”

I spin under the water and spy him watching me. “This isn’t a spectator sport,” I say, soaping my body. “Get in here, Mr. Christiansen, and participate.”

Calling him that name is a great motivator. I could spend a few minutes analyzing why the formal gets Drew moving faster than The Flash, but I think it’s how he’s wired, feeding into his bossy nature.

The tile’s cold, but he’s so damn hot I forget about it and pretty much everything else when he kneels before me and lifts my knee over his shoulder. Looking up at me, he says, “Brace yourself.”

One hand goes to the tiled wall and the other to the small ledge. When his mouth takes charge between my legs, my head drops back, and my eyes close. I find a new appreciation for this CEO—chief erogenous officer. “Yes, Mr. Christiansen. God, yes.” Every time I throw a prefix on there, his tongue works harder.

When his fingers find my entrance, I grip the ledge and the top of his head harder. “I’m so close.” The words are lost in my arousal.

My release is fast and has me melting against the wall. When he sets my foot back on the ground, he holds me by the waist. “I was thinking we could go out for lunch.”

Not ready to reenter the actual world, I slowly drag my eyes open to find him smirking. I have no regrets coming back to him. “I thought you just ate?”

“I did, but I was thinking about you.” Kissing my cheek, he takes my hand and wraps it around his erection. “I thought you might want something more filling. Something to wrap your lips around. Suck. On.”

And there he is . . . Ice Cream Drew is joining the party.

Sexy. Funny. Intelligent. A great dresser. Tall. Dark. Hot as sin. How’d I get so lucky? “I’m starving.”

Screwing my boss has never been more fun. Well, to clarify, I’ve not screwed any other bosses. Only him. But since I’ve crossed that line—four times now—I could do worse than the CEO. And oh my my, how I like doing him.