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Getting Dirty with the CEO

Page 12

by Mia Sosa


  “Are you sure?” he asked. His hands remained at her waist.

  “No,” she said.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” And then he dipped his hands under the edge of her blouse and found her bare skin. One of his fingers skated across her belly, pausing when it reached her belly button. Daniel looked at her, and she arched her back in silent invitation.

  He continued to explore her skin delicately, reverently, as though she were made of porcelain and he worried she might break. Though his touch was feather soft, his fingers left a trail of heat wherever they roamed. In her lust-induced state, Mimi imagined that the small vestibule had contracted, urging them into the tiniest space, one where neither of them could move without touching the other. He filled her field of vision, and she saw nothing but him.

  With deft hands, he raised her skirt a fraction, giving him access to the area between her thighs. She rose on her toes, the heat from his fingers drawing her to them like a magnet.

  Her brain relented. “Please touch me there,” she said against his neck. As further encouragement, she widened her stance.

  His erection swelled against her stomach, and they both moaned. After tugging her skirt higher, he pressed two fingers against the fabric of her panties and traced a path up her slit. “You’re soaked, and you’re burning, aren’t you?”

  She whimpered as he circled her nub, and when he pinched her clit through the lace, she lifted her lips from his collarbone and cried out.

  “Let me take you upstairs, Mimi,” he whispered against her ear. “I’ll make you come over and over again, I promise.”

  The urgency in his voice cut through the fog. Whoa, whoa, whoa. They were groping each other in plain sight of any neighbors who might happen upon them. What the hell had she been thinking?

  She pushed his hands out from under her skirt and scrambled to the opposite corner of the vestibule. Her core ached, making the process of righting her clothing a particularly frustrating task. He watched her under heavy-lidded eyes, which no doubt matched her own aroused gaze.

  She snapped at him, though she was really just angry with herself. “Did you think you’d make me cave after a single date?”

  He gave her a lazy smile that made her picture what he’d look like in the aftermath of fantastic sex. And it would be fantastic. She just knew it.

  “The thought had crossed my mind, yes,” he replied.

  “Slow your roll, buddy.”

  “Too much?”

  “Definitely.”

  “You haven’t given me much time. Every day is precious when you only have seven.”

  After lining up the side seams of her skirt, she opened the door and motioned for him to leave. “And now you have six. Make them count.”

  For a few seconds, his face turned grim, but then he relaxed it, looking as carefree as ever. He chuckled as he waved good-bye, his eyes bright, as though he were eager to meet the challenge.

  Tomorrow, though, he’d learn that she didn’t plan to make things easy for him.

  Oh, he’s going to kill me when he finds out.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Fireworks had duped him.

  She hadn’t responded to his texts on Sunday and now he knew why. Daniel shut his office door and picked up his cell phone. He’d already added her to his favorites. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part, but he hoped the gesture would soon be warranted.

  Daniel: Called your office and learned you’re on a business trip this week.

  Mimi: Surprise.

  Daniel: Very cute.

  Mimi: You said you were looking forward to the challenge. Consider this a challenge.

  Daniel: I’d assumed you’d be around for the seduction. Silly me.

  Mimi: A smart businessman such as yourself should always engage in a bit of due diligence.

  Daniel: Meaning?

  Mimi: Meaning you didn’t ask the right questions.

  Daniel: Fair enough. I have a busy week anyway. Enjoy your trip.

  Mimi: OMG, are you pouting?

  Daniel: I don’t pout.

  Mimi: Let me rephrase. Are you doing an impression of someone who pretends not to pout?

  He smiled. This was as much fun as having dinner with her.

  Daniel: I’m doing an impression of someone who’s used to getting his way.

  Mimi: It’s not a good look for you.

  Daniel: No, I guess not. But you’re the only who calls me on it.

  Mimi: You’re welcome.

  He chuckled. If Ms. Pennington wanted slow seduction, she’d get it. And he’d work around her contrived obstacles.

  Daniel: Good-bye, Mimi.

  Mimi: Ciao.

  After his first cup of coffee the next morning, he took out his cell phone.

  Daniel: What’s your favorite color?

  Mimi: Good morning to you, too.

  Daniel: We don’t have time for that. I only have four days left.

  Mimi: Yellow. Why?

  Daniel: Just curious. Have a great day.

  Mimi: You’re so weird. Bye.

  Daniel: I don’t do emojis, but if I did, I’d smiley-face you right now.

  Mimi:

  The next day he didn’t text her—to keep her guessing about what he was up to. Which left him two days to make an impression, and that wasn’t enough time.

  Daniel: Consider this a request for a one-day extension.

  Mimi: I’ve been meaning to “talk” to you about this. Your texts seem to suggest that I’m going to give in. I hope you realize it’s not a foregone conclusion.

  Daniel: No worries. If I lose, I lose. The point of this is to test your rules, remember?

  Mimi: Oh, yes, my rules. Now I remember. One-day extension granted.

  Daniel: Thank you.

  The day before she was due to return, he made several phone calls to put his plans into action. He was missing a key piece of information, however.

  Daniel: What’s your favorite song?

  Mimi: Gravity by Sara Bareilles.

  Daniel: I don’t know that one. I’ll have to check it out.

  Later that day, after listening to the song on YouTube, he texted her his reaction.

  Daniel: Gravity is sad. Anything cheerful on your playlist?

  Mimi: You’re criticizing my favorite song?

  Daniel: No. It’s just not appropriate for my purposes.

  Mimi: And what exactly are your purposes?

  Daniel: You’ll see.

  Mimi: Kiss.

  Daniel: The band?

  Mimi: No, the song.

  Daniel: By Prince?

  Mimi: Yep.

  Daniel: Good one. Okay. Last question. Favorite cuisine?

  Mimi: Thai food.

  Daniel: Got it.

  Mimi: What are you planning?

  Daniel: What do you mean?

  Mimi: I mean, where is this going? My favorite color, favorite song, favorite cuisine. Is there a point to this?

  Daniel: Just getting to know you. Why?

  Mimi: I thought you were planning something. Never mind.

  Daniel: Blue. Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. Puerto Rican food, of course. In case you were wondering about my favorites.

  Mimi: I’m a shit.

  Daniel: Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. That’s my job.

  Mimi:

  Daniel: Is any of this working?

  Mimi: You no longer remind me of my father.

  Daniel: One out of three’s not bad. I’ll take it. Have a safe trip back. Where are you by the way?

  She didn’t respond.

  Daniel: ?

  Mimi: At home.

  Daniel: Since when?

  Mimi: Since two days ago. I came back early.

  Daniel: You didn’t tell me.

  Mimi: You never asked.

  Daniel: I’m coming over.

  Mimi: Don’t.

  Daniel: Okay.

  He kept their text exchange open on his screen, waiting for her to respond, but nothing came. Nic
e. He’d finally used a fucking emoji, something he’d once promised himself he’d never do, and she’d ignored it. If the guys ever found out, they’d rib him for days. Only Mimi could bring him to this embarrassing state.

  * * *

  Mimi tossed her cell phone on the bed and fell face first onto the mattress. It had taken superhuman strength to tell Daniel not to come over. Even now her fingers itched to send him a different text, one in which she told him to run several red lights to get here if he had to. After returning early from her business trip, she’d spent the last two days holed up in her apartment working on an overhaul of another client’s publicity strategy. Each day, she’d check her phone for his texts, a welcome break from the work she couldn’t focus on. He was courting her. And she discovered she liked being courted.

  Plus, she couldn’t forget the way he’d touched her in the vestibule. He’d known just where to place his hands. With a single caress, all the reasons she shouldn’t be with him had receded to the underdeveloped parts of her brain.

  She picked up her cell phone and dialed Gracie. “Tell me why I shouldn’t be with Daniel,” she said when her best friend answered.

  “Um…okay. Um…”

  “He reminds me of my father?” Mimi prompted.

  “He does?”

  That one doesn’t work anymore, dammit. “Well, not really. What else?”

  “Um…oh, I know, he’s a client.”

  Yes, that’s it. And she’d never wavered on that point. “Definitely a reason to stay away from him. My professional reputation is at stake here.”

  “Right. Exactly.”

  “And even if I were to keep our relationship secret from his partners and the people in my office, I’d know.”

  “Right.” Gracie coughed. “Can’t have that.”

  “Yeah. And I met him through you. So there’s that, too.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? Karen met Mark through me.”

  “Technically, that’s not true. Anyway, that’s different. They’re obviously made for each other. He helps her study, for goodness’ sake.”

  “What’s the big deal, Mimi?”

  Didn’t Gracie get it? “It would be awkward when it didn’t work out.”

  “Isn’t it awkward now?”

  “I mean awkward for everyone else.”

  “Don’t worry about us, Mimi,” she said with a hint of amusement in her voice. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “I’d never.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Okay, yes, I was laughing at you, because I don’t even know who you are right now. Get a grip, Mimi. He’s just a guy.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for helping me vent.”

  “No problem. Bye, babe.”

  “Bye, chica.”

  This time she placed her phone on her nightstand and settled under the bed covers. Staring up at the ceiling, she puffed up her cheeks and slowly released her breath.

  He’s just a guy, Gracie had said.

  Except that’s no longer true.

  And that’s annoying.

  The next day, Mimi returned to the office more determined than ever to keep Daniel at arm’s length. Earlier, as she’d soaped herself in the shower, she’d had an epiphany. Daniel thrived on challenges. Starting an architectural firm with three of his classmates and not a lot of experience. Challenge. Competing and winning in mud runs across the state of Maryland. Challenge. Wooing someone who’d initially claimed she didn’t want to be wooed. Challenge.

  Although his attention might be special to her, it wasn’t special to him. A man like Daniel likely pursued women all the time. She couldn’t afford to forget that, not when partnership—and the dream of owning her own home—were well within her reach. And she could easily picture the worst of the consequences of acting on her desires. When the relationship had run its course, Daniel wouldn’t want to work with her. And then she’d be forced to disclose to the firm that she’d been fired by a client. Yeah. No. Not happening.

  When she entered Baxter PR’s reception area after a midmorning coffee break, the smell of freshly cut flowers tickled her nose. A huge bouquet of yellow lilies sat on the ledge of the reception desk. Gloria, their receptionist, sat behind it, only the tips of her long curly hair visible behind the massive arrangement.

  What’s your favorite color?

  Remembering the innocuous question, Mimi smiled and rose on her toes to smell the flowers. “Let me guess. These are for me.”

  Gloria popped her head out. “No. These are specifically for the reception area.”

  Mimi hid her disappointment behind a fake smile as she picked up her messages. “They’re lovely.”

  “Don’t worry. Yours are in your office. Good luck getting in there, though.”

  Mimi’s heart thudded in her chest. She didn’t bother to ask Gloria what she’d meant, instead jogging to her office to see for herself what Daniel had done.

  Oh, shit.

  He’d arranged to have her office filled with yellow lilies. They covered her desk, her window ledge, and her floor. She turned sideways and edged her way around the various arrangements, her mouth hanging open at the sheer ridiculousness of his gesture. It must have cost a small fortune. She wracked her brain, trying to recall whether lilies were even in season this time of year.

  After rearranging the vases on her desk, she returned a few urgent client calls. She was about to text Daniel when the intercom on her desk buzzed. She parted a cluster of flowers to reach it. “Yes, Gloria.”

  “You have another delivery.” The laughter in Gloria’s voice made Mimi clamp down on her lip. What else is he up to? Thai food maybe? “Send it back to my office, please.”

  After opening her office door, Mimi held her belly with one hand and covered her mouth with the other. A short, bald man in a tuxedo waited by a rolling table like the ones hotels used for room service. A silver dome covered a plate that rested on a bright white tablecloth. “Thai food?” she asked the man.

  He bowed. “Yes, ma’am. Where shall I set it up?”

  Mimi raised a brow and shook her head in amazement. “By the window, please.”

  She searched her purse for a tip, but the man stopped her. “No need, ma’am. It’s all been taken care of.”

  Mimi slid her chair over to the rolling table and lifted the dome cover. She breathed in the scent of basil and curry, and her mouth watered. Tiny specks of red pepper told her the duck would be spicy, just as she liked it.

  Her cell phone buzzed.

  Daniel: Good afternoon.

  Mimi: Good afternoon. You shouldn’t have.

  Daniel: Do you like them?

  Mimi: Um. I’m allergic to flowers.

  Daniel: Shit. That never occurred to me.

  Mimi: I’m kidding. I love them. I’m about to start my lunch, too.

  Daniel: I hope you enjoy it.

  Thirty minutes later, her intercom buzzed again. Mimi pressed the speaker button. “Another delivery?”

  Gloria laughed. “Yep.”

  Mimi walked out to find a woman chatting with Gloria. She wore jeans and a flowy tunic, and she held a guitar case in one hand.

  “May I help you?” she asked the woman.

  “I’ve got a singing telegram for you. Do you want me to sing here or somewhere more private?”

  “Could you maybe not sing and tell the person who ordered it that you did?”

  “Um. Your secret admirer has asked me to record your reaction. I could tell him you declined?”

  She had half a mind to do just that, but it seemed too heartless given the trouble he’d gone through. “It’s ‘Kiss,’ right?”

  “You got it.”

  “Okay. Fine. Do it here.”

  The woman nodded and placed her guitar on the floor. Gloria rose from her chair and rounded her station to get a better view. Next, Mimi’s singing telegram set her phone on the reception desk and pointed it in Mimi’s direction. “I�
��m just going to hit Play now, okay?”

  Mimi blew a raspberry in the direction of the camera’s phone. “Fine.”

  The woman played a few chords and then went straight into her rendition of Prince’s “Kiss.” It was a slow and seductive acoustic version, and Mimi blushed when Gloria’s gaze flew to her face. Mimi couldn’t help shimmying her shoulders to the beat of the infectious tune. At the song’s chorus, the singer’s raspy voice grew louder, filling the reception area and beyond and drawing the firm’s employees out of their offices.

  Ian, too. Shit. She’d forgotten about that particular member of the audience.

  Mimi took in a deep breath and tapped her toe, doing her best to act as though an afternoon serenade were a typical occurrence at Baxter PR. In reality, she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

  Mimi didn’t have to look at Ian to know he was considering her. With his head cocked to the side, he stared at her profile. She glanced at him once, then used her peripheral vision to track his movements. Her jaw ached from the fake smile she’d fixed on her face. Eventually, Ian turned his head and focused on the singer. When she finished the song, the ten or so employees that had gathered around the reception desk applauded. A few even whistled.

  The woman bowed. To Mimi, she said, “From your secret admirer.”

  “Thank you,” she said in as low a voice as she could manage. “That was lovely.”

  Mimi smiled for the camera, but her stomach churned as she watched the singer pack up her guitar and collect her phone. Her personal life had no place here, and in the span of a few hours, Daniel’s antics had put her personal business on display in the most overt way. Flowers? A catered lunch? A singing telegram? And worse, she felt like a bitch for being upset about it.

  Barry, one of the firm’s partners, broke up the party. “All right, folks. Play time is over. Let’s get back to work.”

 

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