“That doesn’t sound any better,” he said, though he asked himself why he was arguing with her. If he wasn’t mistaken, here was a woman he was attracted to like no other making a case that they should keep sleeping together. Anyone with half a brain would worry about the details later.
“It does sound better,” she insisted. “Because it can be untangled. And it should be—when we leave for Muskoka. You were right about that. We have to be 100 percent on our games with Wexler. No distractions. So let’s get it out of our systems now. It’s Sunday now. So that’s four nights.”
“Three,” he countered. “I have a work thing on Tuesday night.” And though he’d much rather spend Tuesday night in bed with Cassie, the goddamned Winter Enterprises Christmas party wasn’t going to be much of a party without him.
“Three then.”
He could feel himself starting to weaken, but he remained silent.
“Look, Jack, I get it. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll take my money, you take Wexler’s company, and we part ways after a job well done—no hard feelings.” He must have looked skeptical because she pulled her feet off his lap. “Fifty grand—it’s not that I don’t appreciate it, and it will make life a lot easier in the short run. But it’s not going to change anything, not fundamentally. I’ll still have to work and inch my way through school. I don’t do relationships either, see? They never feel like they’re worth it, and I don’t have the time.”
“That’s exactly it,” he said. Maybe she did understand. “Relationships just get in the way of what’s important.”
“Which is what?” she asked, tilting her head in that cute way she did when she was trying to size up a situation.
“The company. I know it sounds cold, but it’s how I feel. I’ve been utterly focused on the company from day one. It’s required constant vigilance…and women, they just—” He cut himself off. There was no need to be cruel and finish the sentence with the truth, which was that women just got in the way, demanding time and affection and stuff he wasn’t prepared to provide. It was probably his father’s fault, but he wasn’t interested in psychoanalyzing himself. He was who he was.
“They just get in the way,” Cassie finished for him, suddenly looking very small curled into the corner of the sofa in the almost-dark office.
Before he could try to soften what he’d said, she continued. “Okay, so for you it’s the company, for me it’s school. I get it. We’re on the same page. This isn’t a relationship.”
“Then why bother at all?” Because we can’t keep our goddamned hands off each other seemed like the obvious answer, but he wanted to see what she would say.
“I’m not going to lie. I haven’t had a ton of sex in my life. It just never seemed…compelling enough to go out of my way for.” She laced and unlaced her fingers in her lap. “But now—and don’t let your ego go bananas here—I get it. With you, I suddenly get it.”
His ego went bananas. So did his dick.
Just being around her made him vibrate with lust. What the hell was he doing? And now she was suggesting that they spend three days doing just that with no strings attached. If he couldn’t recognize when he’d won the fucking lottery, he didn’t deserve to run the company he prized so highly.
Once he surrendered mentally, his body took over. Pushing himself up to his knees, he lunged at her, eyes on her mouth—so he didn’t notice her outstretched palm until it made contact with his chest, halting his progress.
“Ah, ah, ah. We’re not done negotiating.”
“Yes we are.” He closed his hand around her wrist and levered it down.
She scrambled to her feet. “Nope, there’s one more condition.”
“A moment ago you were trying to convince me we should do this. And now we’re talking conditions? What did I miss?”
She grinned. “I want to be in charge.”
What the hell? He cocked his head and issued a cool, “Excuse me?”
Her chin jutted out. “Exactly what I said. I want you to do what I say.” But then she lost her nerve and quickly added, “Not forever—or not for our three nights, I mean. Just right now.”
…
Cassie felt powerful. Foolish, but powerful. A pretty weird combination, but she was trying hard to hold on to the powerful part. It was just that now they had essentially decided to spend the next few days sleeping together, her mind had suddenly gone a little crazy with the possibilities. She wasn’t deluding herself. Jack Winter was going to be the best sex she would have in her life—it was never going to get any better. So for the short time he was hers, she wanted him every which way. And though she’d enjoyed last night more than…well, pretty much anything ever, being in this office had planted an idea in her mind. A brazen idea. One that already had her restless and bothered. She tried to explain. “Last night you were sort of…in charge.”
“I don’t remember you objecting.”
“Heck, no!” she exclaimed, a little louder than was probably dignified. “I just want my turn, is all. I want you to sit back and…let me have my way with you.” She grinned at the clichéd phrase, but it was the best she could do.
“And why would you think I would object?”
“Because you’re bossy.”
That earned her a wry smile. “I like to think of it more as being focused.”
“Whatever.”
He held up his hands in a caricature of surrender. “I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. Because I’m not arguing. And yet we’re arguing. Only an idiot would take a pass on letting Cassie James have her way with him.”
“Oh.” She had girded herself to persuade him and was taken a little off guard by his easy capitulation.
“Let’s go get a cab.” He stood, his voice thick with desire.
“No!” she said, a little too loudly. “We stay here.”
He wasn’t going to like that. Even though Jack Winter was sex personified, she got the feeling he didn’t like the idea of doing it in his office. It would remind him of how much he was breaching his stand against mixing business and pleasure. Still, he didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyebrows in a slightly annoyed way.
“Sit,” she said, pointing to the sofa.
When he didn’t move immediately, she placed her palm on his chest and gave him a gentle push. He walked backward toward the sofa until his calves brushed against it. Scowling, he sat.
She moved around the room, switching off most but not all of the lamps and enjoying him watching her. He was dying of curiosity, she could tell, but he wasn’t going to say anything. When the room was suitably dim, she took a stroll around its perimeter, letting her hand glide along the cold glass of the window walls. In truth, she was screwing up her courage.
She made one lap, his eyes burning her, though she didn’t spare him a glance. Fake it till you make it. Moving to stand in front of him she said, “Take out your cock.” That was the truth. That’s what she wanted him to do. There was something about just asking for what you wanted, with no apology, that was intoxicating. The telltale ache took hold between her legs.
His eyebrows shot up. She’d ruffled him. Good. He hesitated a bit too long, though, so she put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows back at him. After a momentary standoff in which they stared at each other, frozen, he lifted his hips and pulled his pants and boxers down. His penis, freed from its constraints, jumped to attention.
“Now you,” he said, his voice thick.
“Ah, ah.” She held up a finger. “Who’s in charge here?” He scowled but remained silent, so she issued her next order. “Shirt, too.”
Her skin buzzed with victory and anticipation when he obeyed. Jack Winter, naked on the sofa in his office—dang. She had a fleeting notion to take out her phone and take a picture so she could remember, years from now, that this actually happened, but she doubted he’d let her control of the situation extend that far.
“Are you going to come over here, or am I going to have to—
”
“Stop talking,” she said, affecting a boldness she didn’t quite feel as she moved to stand next to him.
He reached out and ran his hands over her legs. She swatted them away. “No touching, either.”
He bowed his head and opened his palms in a gesture of surrender.
She swallowed hard. Okay, the way to do this was just to do it. Skip the preliminaries. They had the rest of the week for preliminaries—the thought took the pressure off.
She fell to her knees.
“Oh my God,” he said, before her lips even made contact with him.
The taste of him was a jolt to her senses. She’d given blow jobs in the past, but they’d always felt obligatory. As she slid her lips over him, she knew he was going to be different. A low hum began in his chest, and she could feel it between her legs. He was silky and hard at the same time, salty and sweet. As she slowly took more of him in, the hum became a growl. His hands came to tangle in her hair, threading it around his fingers and resting against her scalp, which felt like it contained all the nerve endings in her body. The image they must make—it was exactly what she’d imagined, and now she’d created it. Having purposely left some of the lights on, she wondered if anyone in the neighboring buildings could see them. She’d kept it dim enough that they probably couldn’t be identified, but wanted it to be crystal clear what was going on. Though anyone watching would have seen something that looked like a woman submitting to a man, they both knew the truth. Jack Winter had given up his power for a little bit, and it was exhilarating. It was driving her wild.
She’d only made a few strokes up and down, when he gasped, “Shit, Cassie, I’m not going to last.”
She stopped then, and as the vacuum her lips had created unsealed, they made a little pop. “Maybe you need a break.” She laughed—it was an unrestrained laugh of joy.
“Maybe not,” he growled.
“But I’m the one in charge, you’ll recall,” she teased, running one finger lightly over the length of him. He grunted and threw his head back. She relented. She didn’t want him to last. She wanted to make him come as quickly as possible—she was getting off on the power trip, in truth. So she sank her mouth back over his shaft, bracing her hands against his thighs, as she took him as deep as she could. She increased the suction and swirled her tongue over the tip of him, trying to figure out what he liked best.
“Cassie!” he barked. She might have thought him angry if she didn’t know better. His fists clenched in her hair and he pressed, warning her off. She let him guide her away, replacing her mouth with her hand as she sat back on her heels to watch the orgasm rip through him. He was magnificent, his eyes never leaving hers as a great shudder overtook him. His hips jerked as if possessed by some external force, and still he watched her. She felt the hot liquid then, and a ridiculous feeling of satisfaction mixed with accomplishment overtook her.
When it was done, he closed his eyes, just for a moment, as if turning inward to gather his strength. It had the effect of breaking the intense connection between them. When he made eye contact again, she winked, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and stood. “Now,” she teased, “was that so bad?”
“Jesus, woman, you just about killed me.” He lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up.
“Oh, sorry,” she mock pouted.
“I’m not.” He stood up and blotted the wet spot on his jeans. “And I’m going to show you just how not sorry I am.”
She raised her eyebrows, issuing a silent challenge.
He pointed to the door. “Home. Now.”
Chapter Nine
“Race you. First one up gets to be in charge.” And then he hit the stairs—there would be none of this give-the-lady-a-head-start bullshit. No, he left the lady shrieking “No fair!” as she struggled to get her key out of the doorknob.
Everything felt so much easier now that they were out in the open about their arrangement. There was no fear she was going to jump to the wrong conclusion, which left clear sailing ahead. He picked up the pace. As hot as that little encounter in his office had been, there was no way he wasn’t going to put his hands on her this time. He couldn’t just sit back again and not touch her.
So he was going to win this goddamned race. She was gaining on him, laughing as she clattered up the stairs. He started taking them two at a time, putting a good chunk of distance between them so, by the time he rounded the landing to the fourth floor, she was more than a story behind him. “I’m kicking your ass, James!” he called down. Summoning a burst of speed for the final flight, he stumbled to a jog as he covered the last stretch of hallway to her apartment.
And came face to face with a woman sitting on the floor, her back against Cassie’s door. She lifted suspicious eyes to meet his. He stood, frozen, as the sounds of Cassie lurching up the stairs, yelling, “You had a head start!” grew louder. She burst through the door from the stairwell, then went utterly silent.
“Mom?”
He’d known before she said it. The woman was an older, haggard twin to her daughter. Her hair was the same auburn-streaked brown, but it hung limply around her shoulders. Cassie’s mother’s version of the crazy-quilt hazel eyes were dull instead of vibrant, and ringed by dark circles. She would be in her mid-forties, yet she looked a good fifteen years older.
He swung his gaze to Cassie and watched her face harden. There had been shock there—he wondered how long it had been since she’d seen her mother—but it drained away and was replaced by something else. Armor.
“What are you doing here?” Cassie’s tone was clipped.
The woman scrambled to her feet. “They let me out early. For Christmas.”
“Bullshit.” It was not lost on him that Cassie had skipped over the pasta swears in favor of the real thing. He took a step back to stand next to her.
“I need somewhere to stay until I can get my own place.” She held out a palm, which contained a single key. “Changed the locks on your own mother, I see.”
“They did not let you out.” Cassie spoke slowly, as if she were trying very hard not to yell. “You were supposed to be in through January. I was there for the intake, remember?” Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel the waves of tension rolling off her. He took a step sideways, putting himself a little closer to her, as if he could absorb some of that tension for her.
“If you’re here, it’s because they kicked you out. Or you skipped out.” Cassie turned to him then and said, “Rehab.”
Her mother’s upper lip curled as she looked him up and down. “This your boyfriend?”
“No,” said Cassie.
She didn’t introduce him. This was his cue. “I should probably go.”
“No!” Cassie put a hand on his forearm. Then she lowered her voice. “Please stay. She’s the one leaving.”
“I just need to crash for a couple nights, Cass. I left early because I got it together.”
“Oh, and did they give you a refund for the seven grand that January is going to cost?”
Suddenly it made sense. The expensive mother. The modest apartment. The slow pace through school. She was paying for her mother’s treatment. And from the looks of things, this wasn’t the first time.
“You told me you’d really try this time,” said Cassie, her voice breaking. Anger had given way, replaced by hurt, and she suddenly sounded like a little girl whose mother had let her down one too many times. She slumped against the wall. As heartbreak flooded into her expression, it was as if the anger that had been there a moment ago transferred to him. A spike of rage, sharp and metallic, pierced his chest. Who the hell did this woman think she was?
“I didn’t need to stay any longer. I’m clean.”
“Oh yeah?” Angry Cassie was back, and in a flash she pushed off the wall and lunged at her mother. She grabbed the older woman’s arm and forced it out of a tattered, dirty denim jacket. Turning the arm over, she exposed it to the dim light emanating from a sconce mounted to the wall.
He had to stifle a gasp. The arm was bruised and overlain with fresh lines of red.
Her mother yanked the arm back. “Excuse me for thinking I could count on my own child,” she sneered, sounding like a schoolyard bully taunting a victim.
Cassie was still standing close to her mother so Jack reached for her, tugging her back to stand by him where she had been a moment ago. He didn’t drop her hand.
“I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend.” There was that lip curl again. He wanted to wipe it off her face.
“He’s not. I don’t need to explain anything to you.”
The older woman shrugged. “You could never get a guy like him anyway. I always told you to play in your own league.” She flashed a leering smile at Jack. “But this one, she was always too good for everyone else. Had to go to university. Always too busy reading, even as a kid. Too good for her own mother. Too busy.”
“That’s not true.” Cassie wasn’t angry anymore, not exactly. But her voice shook. He squeezed her hand. “All I wanted was your attention. You were too busy for me. Too busy getting drunk with your friends. Or high. Or whatever. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay. I’m not doing it anymore.”
“So you’re going to put your own mother out on the street?”
“Yes.” Her voice was so small it was barely audible.
Cassie was about to say I’m sorry again, he could sense it. And he’d be damned if she apologized to this sorry-ass excuse for a mother ever again. Cassie’s mother made his own, with her benign neglect, cluelessness, and deference to his beast of a father, seem like a saint. Jack had been trying to let Cassie fight her own battle, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. He took a step forward, putting himself between the women. “I think it’s time for you to go, Mrs. James.”
After narrowing her eyes and holding his gaze for a long moment, she sneered and said, “It’s Miss James.” Then, like a teenager, she huffed over to her knapsack and made a show of hoisting it onto her shoulder. She didn’t spare a look for Cassie as she clomped down the hall and disappeared into the stairwell.
Saving the CEO Page 9