The CEO

by Hazel Parker

  His heart is bursting from keeping his feelings under wraps.

  But he can’t risk a sexual harassment lawsuit.

  So, he won’t flirt with her.

  He won’t touch her.

  But he wants to celebrate.

  They’ve agreed to acquire several more companies than he thought they would. He still wants to convince her to buy the supermarkets, but he’ll wait until later to revisit that topic. She’s a master debater, and he wants to have all of his talking points ready before he goes to battle for buying grocery stores.

  “Sure.”

  Nora hears the word coming out of her mouth as if she’s back in college and accepting an invitation to go to a dorm party. She must be crazy. She should not go out with the CEO.

  But he hasn’t flirted with her all month. He’s been professional. He’s kept his distance.

  She feels a little sad that they haven’t had any more moments where his hands rested on her waist or her arms rested on his shoulders. She wants to feel his chest pressed against her breasts.

  But she knows that’s wrong.

  Well, not wrong. Just unprofessional. Sebastian should never flirt with his employees. Her personal policy not to date her colleagues has kept her out of trouble since her first law internship in college. She doesn’t want to break her rule now.

  But Arabella said that a certain billionaire proposed to his coworker just after three months of meeting at work, and they got married a year or so later. If that billionaire found lasting love at work, then why can’t this billionaire?

  What’s one night out?

  He probably doesn’t even like her anymore. She’s argued with him so much about acquiring grocery stores. She’s sure that he thinks she’s a...that word that she hates that some men use to describe strong women. But she never backs down from an argument with the CEO. He seems to enjoy their heated debates. Sometimes she thinks he mentions buying grocery stores just to get a rise out of her.

  “What would the shareholders do?” She always asks him. He never answers. He knows what they’ll do. Two words: hostile takeover attempt #2.

  “Let’s go.” A boyish grin spreads over Sebastian’s face. He nods towards the glass conference doors leading into the hallway. He almost reaches for her hand but covers up the natural impulse by reaching for the door. “After you.” He bows.

  She giggles.

  That light sound sends sun rays shining down on Sebastian. His heart is in his throat. He wants to take her in his arms. He wants to spin her around a dance floor. They’ll dance. They’ll laugh. Then they’ll go to sleep...separately, of course.

  On their walk through the mirrored hallway, the sound of their dress shoes click-clacks along the marbled floors as the scent of her floral perfume and his musky cologne intermingle in the cool air creating a new scent.

  Walking side-by-side, when they reach the expansive gold and mirrored lobby, a ballroom door swings open and the sounds of a band playing La Macarena escapes. A laughing drunk couple teeters out of the ballroom. The man, dressed in a dark gray suit, unsteadily helps his companion, a pretty blond dressed in a tight pink dress and very high heels, walk across the shiny floors.

  Sebastian gives Nora a conspiratory glance and nods in the direction of the ballroom. She nods. The two turn and walk in the direction of the large golden doors. A blackboard on an easel announces the occasion: Anne Bellevue & Jonathan Douglass Wedding Reception.

  “Didn’t you go to boarding school with an Anne Bellevue?” He asks Nora as he taps his fingers on his mouth.

  “Actually, I thought you went to college with a Jonathan Douglass.” A smile tugs at her mouth.

  “I think you’re right.” His mouth broadens to a grin.

  “I’m always right.” She laughs. Her heart melts at the sight of his smile. Care-free Sebastian is back.

  His heart leaps up to his throat at the sound of her laugh. He has no words. He’s all emotions: happy to be with her, sad that he’s her boss, excited to spend time with her, anxious not to offend her.

  She looks up into his eyes. A storm of emotions flashes across his face.

  “What? You change your mind?” She doesn’t know what his dilemma is. She only knows that he’s torn over something. He has that same worried expression he gets when he finds a company he likes and then reads the annual report and finds that it’s not as economically sustainable as it first appeared. He’s torn. But about what?

  “Not all. Shall we, Bonnie?” His grin is downright mischievous now.

  “Why Clyde, I thought you’d never ask.” She does her best impersonation of a Southern accent.

  Laughing, Sebastian pulls open the golden doors. The two step into a darkly lit room with flashing colored lights reflecting in a spinning mirror ball in the center of the room. White smoke pours out of smoke machines in the four corners of the large ballroom. Rows of wedding guests of all ages dance in rows moving in unison to La Macarena.

  “Come on!” Sebastian extends his hand to Nora.

  She looks at his open palm. She wants to take his hand. She’s been missing the warmth of his strong hands. In this opulent ballroom where she is Bonnie, and he is Clyde, she decides to suspend her rules and to let loose. She puts her hand in his, and the whole world disappears. She hears only his laugh. Feels only his warm hand. Smells only his musky cologne.

  All of the taboo thoughts of making love to Sebastian on a bed in Bermuda by the beach are resurfacing. The fantasies of making love under the stars in Iceland replays in her mind’s eye as Sebastian—Clyde—holds her hand and guides her through the maze of the white tablecloths and golden chairs on the border of the dance floor.

  Nora’s body flushes. Sebastian—Clyde—pulls her close to him. She’s glad it’s dark in the room. He can’t see her blush. He leads straight into the center of the dance floor. She’s worried that they’ll stick out like black sheep. But nobody notices them.

  Nora’s body tenses at the thought of being found out.

  “What’s wrong?” Sebastian turns to her and leans close to be heard over the music. La Macarena is ending. La Danza Kudoro starts, and the throng of dancers throw their arms up and cheer. The fogs machines cover the floor anew with white smoke. The smell of perfumes and sweat and smoke converge.

  “What if they ask us to leave?”

  “What if they don’t?” He smiles sardonically. “Have fun, Bonnie!”

  “Okay, Clyde.” She shakes her head and laughs, giving in to his contagious festive spirit.

  Suddenly, the CEO tugs on Nora’s hand, and she steps right into his arms. He dances to the reggaeton beat. Her body, pressed against his, follows his lead. She is bewildered and overjoyed that she’s dancing with her crush.

  He holds her tightly against him. His body presses against hers. He has a natural rhythm. She relaxes into his athletic chest and arms. She can hear Arabella’s warning:

  “You know what they say about a man who can dance?”

  Nora wonders what else Sebastian is good at. His blond curls lay in all sorts of directions. She wants to run her fingers through his hair. She wants to feel his skin against her palms. She wants to kiss him.

  The two dance in the center of the crowd. The band switches to a new reggaeton tune that has the crowd cheering and singing along in Spanish. The beginning is slow. Sensual. Sebastian leans close to Nora’s ear and asks,

  “Do you know how to wind?”

  Her response is a hearty laugh. She learned how to wind and bump and grind back in college. Back when she was a virgin and got her rocks off on the dance floor. She is an expert at winding.

  Slowly, Nora presses her pelvis against Sebastian’s pelvis. She feels him get hard. She doesn’t move away. She likes the effect her body is having on him. She likes the feel of his desire against her. She likes him. She wants him.

  Sebastian feels his erection growing in his pants. He thinks about shifting back. But Nora drapes her arms around his shoulders. Her eyes invite him to stay. She
follows his lead; rocks against him; grinds against him. He hasn’t had sex in so long. The open look of desire in her eyes is enough to make him cum on the dance floor.

  But he waits. He wants to savor this moment. So, he pulls her into his arms, grins, and asks:

  “Where’d you learn how to dance like that?”

  “University.” She giggles.

  That giggle will be the end of him.

  The room is very warm. The flashing lights are very bright. The music is getting louder. He needs some water. Needs to slow his hormones down from the rapid rush through his body.

  “Want something to drink?”

  The song ends. Nora nods. She wipes sweat from her forehead. She unbuttons the top three buttons in her pink silk blouse. She takes off her black suit jacket. Sebastian gestures for her to give him her jacket. She hands it over with a smile. He takes off his. She watches his arm muscles ripple underneath his iron-free button-down shirt. Slinging their black jackets over his right shoulder, he takes Nora’s right hand and guides her through the happy, dancing crowd to the bar in the corner opposite the band.

  “What do you like?” Sebastian leans close to her in front of the bar thick with drunk or near-drunk people.

  “Champagne!” Nora yells over the band and the chatty group at the bar.

  “Two champagnes!” he yells to the bartender who quickly pours their bubbly beverages into two glass champagne flutes.

  Sebastian tips him and passes a glass to Nora.

  “A toast!” he yells over the upbeat tempo song the band strikes up.

  “To what?” Nora wants to say To us! But she refrains. She doesn’t want to be presumptuous. She doesn’t want to scare him off. She doesn’t want to sound desperate. Or crazy.

  “To the start a beautiful friendship!” He smiles as if he’s proud of himself for quoting the most quoted movie of all time.

  They clink their glasses. She stares unwaveringly into his blue eyes. They twinkle with...happiness?

  He meets her gaze head on. He likes that she’s not afraid to stare him down. He likes that she’s not afraid of him. He likes...her.

  “Is this a friendship?” She asks softly.

  She isn’t sure if this is the right time. She isn’t sure if there is such a thing as a right time. All she knows is that she wants to know...needs to know...does he feel the same way about her that she feels about him?

  “What are you asking me?” He sips his champagne.

  She gulps hers down and gestures to the bartender for another. She wants some liquid courage. He raises his eyebrows at her.

  “I mean, what if—” She plunges in before she loses her nerve, “what if we met at ABC Consulting firm. What if you were a business consultant and I was a legal consultant—” A woman bumps into Nora, causing her to spill her newly filled champagne on her blouse. It drenches her. The design of her lace bra appears.

  Sebastian grabs some small black cocktail napkins and dabs at the top of her chest just above her breasts. His movements are awkward. He stops just above her breasts. His breathing quickens. He wants to move lower. But he doesn’t want to push boundaries. Plus, he’s a gentleman.

  Nora is flushed. Sebastian’s soft dabs are stoking the fire building deep down inside of her. Her muscles clench. She inhales deeply to slow down her increasing heart rate.

  “Maybe you should change?” He hands her the black cocktail napkins. Then he runs his hands frustratingly through his blond curls.

  Nora nods. She is surprised that she didn’t move away when he dabbed her shirt. She wanted him to move his hands lower. But she didn’t want to appear thirsty. Plus, she’s a lady.

  Sebastian takes Nora’s hand again. A shock of electricity jumps from her to him. They look sharply at each other. Aware that the other felt it. Sebastian runs his thumb along her knuckles. Nora’s breath slows.

  “Let’s go.”

  She nods.

  He tugs her hand, and again she falls into his arms. He wraps an arm around her shoulders. Her breasts press into his torso. The wet part is partially concealed. He runs his fingers along her arm as he confidently guides her through the throng of dancers. More smoke and cheers and blinking lights surround them. When they emerge on the other side of the dance floor closest to the door, Nora notices the centerpieces: clear glass vases filled with water, with sand-colored stones on the bottom and candles floating on top. In front of each vase are two golden frames: one of a smiling boy and one of a smiling girl. Nora looks to another table and sees the same golden frames, but with a smiling teenage girl holding a trophy and smiling teenage boy holding a diploma.

  Nora’s heart warms to the fact that the Mr. and Mrs. Douglass have photos of themselves at every age on every table. Nora can’t help but imagine if it were her and the Sebastian’s wedding, then they would have twenty-six tables of them with pictures of every age. But that would mean that they’d have to get married before the fall when she turns twenty-seven. She shakes the fantasy out of her head. She still needs to talk to him about her feelings. She still needs to find out how he feels about her.

  They waltz through large golden doors and tap across the marble floors. At the elevator, a man in a red uniform presses the button for them. Sebastian squeezes Nora’s shoulder. She looks up into his blue eyes.

  Her stomach knots up at the thought of putting herself out there.

  She’s nervous about being all in her feelings as her ex-boyfriend used to say.

  She’s nervous about telling Sebastian how she feels about him.

  She’s afraid that he’ll reject her, just like her ex rejected her before graduation. Just like her dad rejects her profession.

  Nora swallows.

  Maybe this is a mistake.

  The elevator doors open. They step inside. The elevator attendant leans in, turns a key, and Sebastian presses the floor for PH. He prefers to rent out the top floor of hotels to ensure his privacy. Nora enjoys the perks of travelling with the CEO. She want the European trip to last forever.

  The elevator doors close. The glossy gold veneer serves as a mirror reflection for its occupants. Nora and Sebastian hold hands. His eyes glance over her wet blouse in her reflection. The cool air turns hot. The spark they felt earlier is electrifying the atmosphere.

  Nora’s breath becomes a pant. She can smell Sebastian’s musky cologne. Her mouth dries. She licks her lips.

  The flick of her tongue ignites a fire in Sebastian. He turns to look at her. Really look at her. He takes in her long waves of auburn hair, her pretty profile, her modest breasts and small waist that spreads out to lovely hips. Her hourglass figure calls to his hands. He wants to feel her every curve.

  “Nora,” he murmurs.

  “Sebastian,” she pants.

  He springs on her. His athletic body pushes her against the golden wall of the elevator. His hands touch her face, delicately.

  “Kiss me,” she commands. She hopes she doesn’t sound unladylike. But she doesn’t care. She needs to feel those pinks lips against hers.

  He runs his fingers through her hair. Inhales her floral perfume. Tilts her face up to his, then leans down and kisses her gently.

  She moans.

  He groans.

  He loves how she wants him. She opens her mouth. His tongue invades her mouth. He tastes champagne. She is warm and inviting. He tightens his grip on her hair, causing a pleasantly painful sensation to run down her spine.

  She’s never been into sadomasochism. But she welcomes a little pull or spanking when done right with the right guy.

  Their tongues move in a warm, sensual dance. He pushes his erection into her pelvis. Her nipples harden beneath her damp shirt. Beads of sweat line their foreheads.

  She raises her leg and wraps it around him. Pressing the heat between her legs against his groin, she grinds against him. She moves harder and faster. He responds to her. They moan. Still kissing, he raises her other leg around him. He holds her up against his body by gripping her round bottom.


  She grinds her pelvis against him. Her breath quickens. Her temperature rises. She fears the elevator will stop and the doors will open before she can rub out one good clitoral orgasm.

  “Yes!” she cries as an explosion of warmth emanates from between her legs and courses through her veins. Warm liquids dampen her panties.

  He holds her firmly against his still hard erection.

  “Did you come?” His voice is husky with unspent desire.

  “Yes.”

  Slowly she unwraps her legs from around his athletic build. He helps her stand on the floor. He smiles and grips her bottom.

  The elevator stops. He lets go.

  She wonders, how long has it been? One minute? Two? All those years of masturbating have made her a one-minute woman. She decides to play it cool.

  The elevator doors open. Quickly, the two fix their clothes and spin around. No one is there, of course. Sebastian rented the entire floor for them. He takes her hand and leads her to his suite. The master suite.

  Her heart is racing as fast as it did when she ran cross country at boarding school. She wants to pause to catch her breath. She’s hot, light-headed, hot. But she wants to enter Sebastian’s hotel room. Before he changes his mind. Before his iron will returns, and he sets her adrift in her fantasies.

  He turns the doorknob and pulls it open.

  “Ready?” He looks softly into her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  When they enter the opulent suite, Nora is too turned on to be impressed by the intricate drapery and oriental rug and antique furniture. Sebastian leads her to the bedroom. She tugs on his hand.

  “Sebastian, I was thinking we could talk first.”

  “Of course. I was going to get you a dry shirt.” He glances down at her still wet shirt. Her hard nipples point in his direction. His pupils dilate.

  Could the room get any hotter?

  “Have a seat, Nora. I’ll return shortly with a shirt.” He bows formally, enters the bedroom, and leaves her flushed with embarrassment.