Hot CEO: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Charlize Starr

  “That was the idea,” he says. “Are you on a break?”

  “Just for a minute,” I tell him, pouting a little about it. “I stepped out back.”

  “So, could you still be overheard?” Jacob asks as he’s prompting. “You’re still on the clock?”

  “Yes, why?” I ask.

  “Really,” he muses, and I flush at how low and dark his tone is. “So, if I were to tell you all about how I can’t get you off my mind today, how I keep thinking about running my hands up your thighs and spreading your legs, you’d have to just listen?” Jacob asks.

  I gasp a little and try to swallow it down. “I guess I would,” I say, feeling heat pool through me.

  “Good. What if I kept going?” Jacob asks, still so dark.

  “With your hands, or telling me about it?” I ask, trying to keep my voice low and my words ambiguous.

  “Telling you,” Jacob says, laughing. “For now, anyway.”

  “I’ve only got a few more minutes,” I say. It’s driving me absolutely crazy, not being able to tell Jacob how much I’d like that, how good that sounds. But someone could walk back here at any minute, so I have to pretend this is just a normal call.

  “I’ll work fast then,” Jacob says.

  “Please do,” I say, biting my lip.

  By the time I go back inside a few minutes later, I’m feeling wrecked and desperate, and I briefly consider calling off my shift early with the excuse of a personal emergency so I can run right home and do something about it and touch myself, or call him back and pick up where we left off. But I can’t do that to Martin and the shop, and besides, the more this goes on, the more I need to see Jacob in person if it’s going to continue. To know if we’re as good together in real life as we are over the phone.

  I’m distracted the rest of the day at my shift. I have so much trouble thinking about anything but Jacob’s words, even when Martin pulls me aside to talk to me about important things. He asks for my help designing the new shop fliers because of my advertising background, and I’m glad to accept. He also tells me he’s thinking about stepping back a little in the coming months and promoting me to management.

  It’s a lot of good news for one day, but somehow Jacob still feels like the best part.

  Chapter Twelve - Jacob

  Mia keeps asking to see me, and I don’t know what to do about it.

  She keeps mentioning that we should meet up, that she’d love to see me. I’d love to see her, too. Of course, I would. I’d love to be able to take her out. I’d love for her to stay in with me, in my bed. I want nothing more than to actually touch her. But I haven’t known how to want all those things and get them, considering the circumstances.

  In the past few days, we’ve taken our phone relationship to a new level, and it’s been the most fun I’ve had in a long time. It hasn’t been enough. I want more of Mia. I know she won’t wait forever to see me – she can’t and that it’s not fair of me to expect her to.

  I don’t want her to wait. I don’t want to wait. I don’t know how to have her here or go out anywhere with her, but I’m starting to think Mia is worth a little risk. I have an idea, and I’ve already been into town to pick up something to go with it.

  I call Mia. I’m sure she’s expecting me.

  “Hi!” she says brightly, sounding happy to hear from me.

  “Hey, Mia,” I say, smiling to myself. I’m not sure this is a good idea, but I’m certain I want to do it anyway. “How was your day?”

  “Pretty good, but, you know, I had the strangest calls at work today,” Mia says, her laughter followed by what sounds like the noise of a door shutting.

  “Did you?” I ask, laughing too. “Strange how?”

  “The good kind of strange,” Mia says, “definitely the good kind.”

  “Well that’s good,” I say, smirking. “I’d hate for you to have been bothered during your shift.”

  “Oh, but I was bothered,” Mia says, her voice low in a light, whispered sort of way that can’t help but make me think about her breath hot on my neck, about her spreading herself out on my bed. “But that was the good kind, too.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I say. Every time I talk to Mia, I feel a little bit more comfortable but also a little bit more restless because I’m not physically with her.

  “You should be,” Mia says.

  “I was wondering,” I say, deciding to dive in.

  “Yes?” Mia asks.

  “The other night on the phone, it sounded like that radiator of yours was making some hissing sounds,” I say. It’s a line, and a terrible one, but there is no good way I can think of to just spontaneously invite myself to someone else’s house.

  “It does that sometimes,” Mia says, a cautious, questioning note in her voice.

  “I thought you might want me to come take a look at it?” I ask. Mia’s breath catches on the other end of the phone. “Maybe tomorrow?”

  “Oh! Yes. Yes, I’d like that.” She sounds pleased, and I’m relieved to hear that.

  “Good,” I say. I’m feeling pretty pleased with things too, honestly.

  “I can make dinner!” Mia says, “I get off at five-thirty, so you could come around seven?”

  “Sounds great,” I say. “I’ll bring tools.”

  “Right. For the radiator,” Mia says, laughing.

  “Of course,” I say. Truthfully, Mia’s radiator sounds like every other radiator I’ve ever heard in my life, and we both know it.

  “It’s a good thing you’re so handy,” Mia says. I can tell she’s still grinning.

  “It can have its uses,” I agree.

  I can’t get over the idea that I’m really going to see her tomorrow. That I’ll be at her house, kissing her and touching her. I want so much with Mia. I want this conversation. I want the date we have set for tomorrow. I want hundreds of more dates after that. I want to kiss her. I want to not just talk about it but do it. I want to have sex with her and to hold her in my arms afterward.

  I know meeting Mia might not be the safest plan. I know I shouldn’t be doing this right now – shouldn’t be falling for someone, but I don’t care. I want this thing with Mia to work. She’s absolutely worth the risk.

  Chapter Thirteen - Mia

  I clean my house from top to bottom before Jacob comes over. It’s not that it was ever messy or dirty. I’m a really clean person in general. Too much of a mess makes me feel stressed out, and I hate germs. But I want it to be extra sparkling when Jacob arrives. I put a casserole in the oven as soon as I get home from work. It’s an old recipe of my grandmother’s, and I’d put it together last night so I could just throw it in the oven today. The recipe said it was best left to sit overnight anyway, so I hope it turns out incredible. I’m hoping this whole night does.

  I put some chocolate from the shop in a bowl on my coffee table, a few flavors I know Jacob has said he likes and few of my favorites. I’m so glad he’s coming over. I’ve got this nervous sort of bubble in my chest about it, but mostly I’m just thrilled to see him again. I hope this means that from now on we can see each other for real. That we can date properly rather than doing our dance over the phone.

  Jacob shows up two minutes before seven, and the knock on my door sets my pulse racing. I open it and I almost gasp.

  Jacob is even more handsome than I’d remembered. His eyes are sparkling and his hair is thick around his handsome, sharp, face. His plaid shirt clings to his broad shoulders and strong arms. He looks like he stepped out of a magazine for the mountains, or maybe right out of my own fantasies.

  “Mia,” he says, pulling me into a tight hug. His arms around me feel wonderful. I could just stay in them forever. I can’t wait to kiss him, to be close to him.

  “So good to see you, Jacob,” I say, into his neck. He lets me go and smiles at me, bright across his striking features.

  “It smells amazing in here,” he says.

  “Thank you,” I say. I hope it tastes as good as it smells. Jacob s
teps back, looking around, and I notice a brown paper bag in his hand. “What’s that?” I ask. “Your tools?”

  “I brought you something,” Jacob says, eyes back on me, and then traveling over me like he’s taking me in. Like he can’t quite believe he’s here either.

  “A present?” I ask.

  “An apology,” Jacob says, handing the bag to me. I open it curiously and my eyes widen when I see what it is. It’s a pound bag of the coffee they make at the diner. The exact kind I was drinking when we met.

  “Coffee?” I ask, biting my lip.

  “I’ve been wanting to buy you a coffee to make up for that one that ended up on my shirt for weeks now. I thought, since it had been so long, I owed you a whole bag of them, not just a cup. It’s an apology with interest attached,” Jacob says. It’s maybe the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me – the most thoughtful gesture I could imagine right now.

  “You really didn’t have to do that,” I say, amazed that not only is he still thinking about that morning but that he’d paid enough attention to me, even then, to notice where my coffee was from.

  “I really did because I was an ass,” Jacob says, grinning at me. “No one should get yelled at their first day in town.”

  “Thank you,” I say, pulling him in for another quick hug. I don’t really want to let him go, but the oven timer goes off and we sit down to eat. I pull the casserole out and dish it out. It’s a little burnt on the bottom, but Jacob doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Thank you for dinner,” Jacob says, pulling apart his roll and taking a bite of the casserole.

  “I hope it’s okay. I’ve never been much of a cook,” I confess, “but it was my grandma’s recipe, so I thought it was worth a try.”

  “It’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a very long time,” Jacob says, holding my eyes and making my stomach catch a little. “Take that for whatever it’s worth, though, because I don’t get out to eat a lot these days.” I take a bite myself, and while I’m not sure I’d go as far as Jacob, it’s pretty okay, the burnt taste mostly covered in cheese. I’m proud of myself.

  “Grandma did know what she was doing,” I say, smiling.

  “Definitely,” he agrees. “I’m glad this family recipe isn’t a secret.”

  “Tell me about your day?” I ask. “It seems strange to not talk to you until this late in the day.”

  “It does,” Jacob agrees.

  “But I’m glad you’re here,” I say.

  “Me too,” Jacob says, giving me another one those looks that make me feel liquid all over.

  We talk about our days over dinner, and I’m pleased when Jacob has a second helping, even if that feels silly. He tells me about some repairs he’s done, and I tell him it’s officially hot chocolate season at work. It’s strange I feel like I talk about work all the time and Jacob never does. I mean, he’s told me all about the family legend and lore, but never anything about the day-to-day of his work. I can tell it’s stressful for him, though, which is probably why he doesn’t go there, but I hope that soon he can trust me enough to open up to me about whatever’s causing him headaches there.

  After dinner, Jacob offers to do the dishes, catching me by surprise.

  “You cooked, so I can do these,” Jacob says, then he laughs at my expression. “I live alone, remember? I do my own dishes every day. I think I can handle it.”

  He’s right, of course. I just hadn’t been expecting it. Jacob is so different from most men I’ve known. He’s so independent, and he makes me feel like he wants to take care of me. It’s a nice feeling.

  “If you insist,” I say, bringing the plates and cups to Jacob. I wrap what’s left of the casserole in foil and set it in the fridge before sitting to watch Jacob work.

  “I thought you were here to fix my radiator, not do my dishes,” I say, teasing.

  “You know, I think that might have been my phone reception? Static on my end of the line. Because it sounds fine listening to it here,” Jacob says. I laugh.

  “Well, you are way up in the mountains, all those trees around,” I say, nodding, smiling to myself in knowing the radiator was never really the reason he wanted to see me at all.

  “Exactly,” Jacob says. “It sounded bad from up there.”

  “I’m sure it did,” I say, laughing again. “Good thing you’re here to listen to it in person. To be sure.”

  “Maybe I’ll come keep an eye on it more often,” Jacob says, turning around to grin at me. It’s amazing how easy this is. How natural and good it feels.

  “Maybe you should,” I say. “I think I’d like that.”

  “I think I would, too,” Jacob says.

  I think maybe I’d like it if Jacob did a lot of things around here more often. I think to myself that maybe I like the things Jacob does for me in my life so much that I could get used to them already.

  Chapter Fourteen - Jacob

  I sit with Mia on her couch, amazed at how well this is all going. She makes me feel at ease, even if this all still seems like a huge risk. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered, or maybe I’m just paying more attention now. She’s got her hair down around her face, making her eyes look bigger somehow, and the blue dress she’s wrapped in shows off her curves in an irresistible way. I think she must have picked it for me, and the thought of that, of her getting ready for me like that, makes me need to touch her, makes me not want to wait another second.

  I take one of her hands in mine, and she looks up and locks her eyes on mine. I slide my other hand to her face, my fingers brushing her hair, and she draws in a sharp breath and nods. I tug her into me, just slightly, and then lean down to kiss her.

  I haven’t touched anyone or kissed anyone in so long, and kissing Mia feels electric, feels like I’m coming alive again. Like she’s bringing me back into the real world. Her mouth is warm against mine, and she folds in even closer to me, putting one of her hands on my knee.

  “Can’t do that over the phone, can we?” Mia says, sounding breathless, when we pull apart for a moment.

  “It’s really not the same at all,” I agree, leaning down to kiss again. She reaches a hand out for the fabric of my shirt, like she’d described on the phone. At the gesture, and in remembering that conversation that followed, I feel myself start to get hard in my pants. I run my tongue over her lips and she opened her mouth under mine. I tug her in closer, wanting to feel all of her. She arches up under me into the kiss, sliding the hand on my knee up my thigh.

  Her eyes are wide when I pull back to look at her, and her skin is already flushed.

  “I don’t want to assume,” I start, “just because of our phone conversation.” But Mia shakes her head rapidly.

  “Oh, no. Please assume,” Mia says. She backs up a little then and stands up, reaching a hand out to me, “and follow me.”

  “I can do that,” I say, following her into her bedroom. She closes the door behind us and then presses herself against me. I put a hand in her hair, tugging just a little, pulling her in closer. I slide the hand down to her neck, feeling her pulse and how rapidly it’s sped up. She presses flush against me and runs her hand under my shirt, hands on my abdomen, trailing to my hips. This is all so much better in person than I could’ve even imagined.

  “You’ve got buttons now,” I say, reaching to the front of her dress to start unbuttoning them. I take my time, button by button, kissing and touching every inch of her skin I expose.

  “God,” she says. “Yes, please.”

  Her hands reach to pull my shirt over my head, and I pause long enough to raise my arms before resuming undoing her buttons. I get to the bottom and slide her dress off in one motion. I take a minute to just look at her, standing there in her undergarments: a lacy bra and blue pair of underwear. She’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I want more, need to have her like this tonight for real.

  She slides her hands to my belt, and I reach my hands back to unhook her bra, pulling it off and exposing her breasts to me. She gas
ps and takes a step back, not away from but toward her bed. She walks back to it, tugging me along with her with her by my beltloops. She lays back and I climb on top of her, and then I finally touch her breasts. She whimpers when I do, and it’s a gorgeous sound, one I want to have her make again over and over.

  So, I cup my hands over her breasts and tease her nipples with my fingers until they’re flushed up under me, firm. She squirms under my touch, leaning up to kiss me again. I kiss her and then lick my way down her neck so I can put my tongue on her nipples, making her cry out again. I lick and suck her breast, and I slide one hand down her stomach, feeling her muscles quiver as I reach for her underwear. She nods rapidly as I tug on the waistband.

  She starts undoing my pants and I pull back and shake my head.

  “Not yet. I think I told you I wanted to make you come for me, and I think I was pretty specific about how” I tell her.

  “Oh,” she breathes. “God, yes.”

  I grin and move farther down her body. I reach my hand between her thighs, feeling how soaked she is before I even begin touching her – before I even reach her clit. She cries out when I do touch her clit like she already needs me to touch her. I spread her legs apart with my hands so I can touch her properly. She writhes under me, gasping as I touch her, as my fingers make circles on her clit with insistent pressure.

  “Please,” she says, eyes dark with want and skin flushed as she looks at me.

  I slide one and then two fingers inside her, pulling and twisting, making her hips rock up.

  “I can’t wait to taste you,” I say, adding a third finger and hearing her moan.

  “So, don’t,” she bites out. “God, that’s so good.”

  “We’ve got time,” I say. “I want to make you come at least twice before I fuck you to make up for lost time.”

  “Oh god,” she says, drawing her words out as she squirms around my fingers. She closes her eyes, hips jolting up as I touch her. I pick up my pace on her clit, and I feel her clench around my fingers. I know she’s close, so I back off just for a minute, going so, so slowly.