CEO'd By Him Complete Series Box Set

by Nella Tyler

  Heart pounding in my chest, I jumped when Kris blew a cool breath over my core, which was molten by this point. Electricity was racing through my veins, but as he wrapped an arm around my lower back and buried his face between my legs, it roared through me.

  I’d never known this kind of decadence, this sensation of being worshiped by such concentration and dedication. His tongue traced inside of me and I dug my heels into his back, toes curling, as I cried out his name over and over again. My hands were clutching my breasts, and I began massaging them as he lapped at me.

  Tremors began to fan outwards, and then an orgasm hit me so hard, I thought I’d turned to jelly. When I managed to open my eyes again, Kris was holding my shoulders, watching me, an odd mixture of wonder and complacency on his face.

  “Damn,” I gasped pushing my hair out of my eyes.

  His eyes went dark with desire, the smile fading from his face as he leaned in to kiss me. The look on his face was suddenly intense, serious. And this time the kiss was slower, more deliberate. It was like Kris wanted to extend this moment for as long as possible.

  But I could feel the hard bulge in his pants and the masculine sounds pushing out of his chest. As though some vixen had taken over my body, I let my hands trace down his hard stomach before brushing over his cock. He jumped a mile and then suddenly he – or I, I wasn’t sure anymore – was unbuckling his pants. I vaguely realized he’d kicked them off and was fumbling with something.

  Glancing down, I saw his hard, rigid shaft swinging between his legs and my mouth went dry. He was huge, with veins popping out and the tip was glistening. Then there was a crinkle of foil, then I was being lifted, swung around and pushed up against a wall.

  Kris’s breathing was harsh as he gazed at me. Then he brushed against me and my center ached with desire. Looking back at him, I hoped he’d knew that.

  The same intensity on his face was coursing through me. There was a magnetism here, a visceral need to become one. And slowly he slid in, murmuring my name over and over.

  Our eyes never left each other, and I gasped as my walls stretched to accommodate all of him. The electric sparks were back, dancing across every inch of skin and firing off at every nerve ending. I could feel the way he was holding back, the dusting of chest hair against my skin, the way my ankles were crossed above his hard ass, the grip of his big hand at my waist – all of the ways my body was responding to him, welcoming him and needed more.

  Through some unspoken understanding, we moved at the same time. I arched, lifting my hips as much as I could and Kris pulled back, smooth and steady, before plunging forward.

  We went slowly, for now, enjoying the languor of learning each other’s bodies. Warm skin, silky with sweat. Dips and contours. Stretching and pushing. Give and take.

  I marveled at the swelling of hard muscles along his shoulders, tracing them back and forth. Kris’s hands were more frantic, moving up down my sides, across my back.

  Our eyes never left each other. I’d never been so subsumed in a man’s gaze like this. But I couldn’t look away. It seemed to amplify every movement. I watched as the cords in his neck stood out as he began to move faster and how his eyes darkened with desire when I whimpered.

  Now Kris was slamming into me, and I thought I heard another plate crash, followed by another. But I didn’t care. Eyes closed, unable to take it anymore, I was calling out his name and begging, “Faster, harder.”

  “Open your eyes, beautiful,” Kris whispered harshly as familiar shudders began to race through my body. Somehow I opened them as I came undone. The pleasure shattered through me, and I cried out his name, gripping his shoulders. Then another one blossomed, followed by another and Kris came as well, with a rough, deep utterance of my name.

  Breathless, a little shaken, we stared at each other, then Kris slid out. My body immediately shuddered at the loss. But then Kris was spinning me around. Hands landing on the counter, I gasped as he began to trail hot kisses down my spine, again murmuring my name over and over again. It sounded like something between relief and craving. As though he could never have enough.

  And as tired as I was, I wiggled against him, wanting it just as much. His hands found my breasts, and he played with them, tweaking the nipples and making me cry out. Then he was massaging up and down my stomach, my sides and the sides of my legs.

  When he found my ass cheeks, squeezing them and kneading them, my knuckles went white on the edge of the counter. Then his hands swooped around front, dancing up my thighs. Now I was shaking, my pussy on fire, and I moaned, “Kris, please, I need you.”

  A finger curled inside of me and I let out a panting kind of whimper. Then another. With just his hands, he teased me to the edge of bliss, then abruptly stopped.

  “Kris!” I flashed out, legs shaking.

  Suddenly his cock was inside of me, his hands bending me over and I almost let out a sob of thankfulness. This time there was no build up. We needed each other, and we had each other. I met every rock, every thrust and in no time, I was gone, Kris’s arm around my waist to keep me upright. He came seconds later, and I felt his whole body shudder with the bliss of release.

  Then Kris was kissing my neck, turning me around, kissing me and I was stumbling back. I could barely hold myself upright. Walking me backward a little, Kris suddenly lowered me to the floor. His body was warm on mine as we kissed – drowsy, almost drunken caresses.

  I wasn’t sure how much had passed when we stopped. His head was on my chest, leg thrown over mine, and we were still both gasping for breath. While Kris seemed content to lie here, his scruffy jaw brushing against my collarbone, I could feel my muscles tensing up.

  In pieces, thoughts began to come back to me and nerves were starting to bubble up.

  I slept with a client.

  That thought hit me like a whiplash. An accusation that I was no better than I should be. At the time, I hadn’t even thought of Kris like that.

  He was Kris, witty, sexy and carefully hiding a shattered, unsure side of himself. It had been that combination of confidence and vulnerability that did me in. Well, never mind the way he’d looked at me and talked to me. Quoting goddamn Edith Wharton. What was a girl to do?

  For a moment, I didn’t know whether to kiss him or ask him to never see me again.

  Either way, I had to get out of here. I needed to think, get my head on straight. And with his scent filling my nose, the dance of his fingers across my waist, I knew I wouldn’t be able to.

  He lifted his head, looking down at me at that instant and I blurted out, “I have to go.”

  It was so abrupt. So final. It didn’t leave any room for anything else. And Kris seemed to draw back, his eyes going distant and he nodded.

  Shaking, I got up and found my clothes. There were plates shattered everywhere. Embarrassed, I could barely look at him as I wriggled my jeans and shirt on, shoving my panties into my pocket. Part of me primly suggested I stay and clean up, while the reckless, wild woman who’d apparently just arrived on the scene today, was screaming bail, bail, bail!

  Raking my hands through my hair, I stammered out, “I-I’ll leave all the papers with you, Kris. Look them over and let me know what you think.”

  Kris nodded, suddenly looking detached and coolly amused. My heart sank. Oh God, was he one of those guys who, what did Anna call it, “hit it and quit it?” I winced.

  As I rushed towards the door, I could feel his eyes on me, and I squeaked out over my shoulder, “I’ll be at the office if you need anything!”

  I thought I heard him let out a dry little chuckle at that, but I wasn’t sure – I was out the door and running to my car.

  Chapter 15

  Kris

  Waking up, I thought I caught a whiff of Cammie’s perfume and reached over for her. I wanted to pull her soft body close, smell her hair and maybe kiss her senseless before work.

  If not more.

  My hands closed on air, and I jerked upright, rubbing my face. Frowning, I gazed aro
und, at the empty bed and out into a hazy dawn that promised a hot day.

  Then the world seemed to right itself, and I realized that I’d been dreaming. As I shifted, I bit back a groan at the stiffness between my legs. That kind of dream.

  I couldn’t really remember it, only that Cammie had been in my bed, smiling at me and then laughing as I pulled her close. But I did remember every last moment from last night. I tucked my hands behind my head as I lay back down and stared up at the ceiling. Oh, I could never forget that. It had been one of the hottest and sexiest experiences of my life. Part of me wanted to send those smashed plates away to have them turned into a piece of artwork or something.

  But a nagging kind of weight was pulling at me. As much as I wanted to smirk and shrug it off, I couldn’t stop thinking about Cammie. Or how it had ended in the blink of an eye.

  I’d thought she’d spent the night. I didn’t think she’d all but run out of here. Uneasiness rippled through me, and I sat up, folding my arms on my knees.

  Why didn’t she stay?

  Then I groaned, thinking of how much I would have loved to continue doing what we were doing all night into the early morning. Cammie had been so fiery, so responsive to every touch.

  It had been intense.

  Maybe too intense. Maybe that’s why she ran.

  Gripping my hair, I wondered if I’d absolutely screwed up. Maybe I shouldn’t have made a move on her. But she’d been so alluring, so goddamn kissable.

  And she’d said yes. A smile spread over my face thinking about how she’d gazed up at me, her hands fisting in my shirt and saying, “Come here. Please.”

  I liked that side of Cammie. I liked it a hell of a lot. Then I blew out a sigh and groaned. At this moment, I was doubting I’d ever see it again.

  After moping around for a while, I managed to take a shower, make coffee and act like a human. I’d cleaned up all the broken dishes last night, but the folders from Cammie were still neatly lined up on the other side of the counter.

  Walking around, I glanced through them and felt my face twist. None of the houses appealed to me. God, why was buying one such a pain in the ass?

  Plunking down, I carefully went through each folder, growing more and more dismayed. They were decent enough, but none jumped out at me. I rubbed my jaw, wondering why. I could always settle, maybe get another apartment and then move or build in a few years…

  But something in me seemed to leap up and reject that. And I realized, no, I wanted a home. I wanted a place that was mine, that when I came in the front door, I didn’t want to walk back out it.

  An image of Cammie walking through the foyer of some blurry house, her hands on her hips, feet bare as she dragged me into a den for movie night popped into my head.

  Shaking my head, I pushed it away and opened the last folder. It was more out of courtesy than anything. I had a feeling since I hadn’t found a house by now, I’d never find one. Then I stopped and gazed down at the first one in this folder. Cammie had starred it in purple pen in the corner and written, This is my favorite!

  I could see why. It was an old-fashioned, big and rambling house with an old-school aura and stonework touches. Huge windows dominated the living room and entryway. A glassed-in patio overlooked the backyard, one that was filled with trees and crossed at the bottom by a river.

  It wasn’t too close to downtown, but instead in that up and coming neighborhood she’d mentioned, Mount Laurel. It was actually a short ride to the studios too, I saw, as Cammie had thoughtfully clocked it.

  My heart was pounding a little as I flipped through the pictures. I’d never been excited or cared too much where I lived before, but I loved this place.

  Setting it aside, I glanced through the rest, finding two other houses I loved as well. One was in Redmont Park, and the other was in Vestavia Hills.

  Gathering them up, I stuck them in my bag for work and made a mental note to call Cammie tomorrow to look at those houses. Turning, I looked at the mess of boxes and papers still waiting for my attention. I knew I should spend my day off looking through them, but I also knew my dad would be the first person to tell me to take a break.

  So without a second thought, I headed out the door.

  Taking a swig of the new craft beer Vince offered me, I grimaced and swallowed it. “Dude, no.” I handed it back to him. “Not even a little. Please tell me you didn’t overpay.”

  Vince’s eyes crinkled up, and he laughed. “Of course I did. That’s my trademark move – overpaying for crap.”

  Glancing around Strikerman’s, which somehow seemed even dimmer than usual in spite of the bright sunshine outside, I bit back the obvious retort. We were standing along the counter that ran parallel to the front desk, alternating watching the two games on the TVs above us.

  I had no idea how Vince had sprung for all these flat-screens or why he’d decided to line them up facing the bowling alley, but I had to admit, the picture quality was great.

  “Yo. Anybody work here?” came a teenage voice from behind us.

  We turned, and Vince grinned at the kid, who had floppy hair and a sullen look. Two other kids hovered behind him, braces flashing as they whispered and pointed at their phones.

  “Yo, man, just go behind the counter and grab your sizes,” Vince said, gesturing.

  “The owner is cool with that?” The kid looked suspicious.

  “Sure. I’m extremely cool with it.” Vince replied, folding his arms and smirking. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to look hip, but the teenagers seemed impressed.

  “Sweet, dude, thanks!” The floppy-haired kid said as he and his friends raced behind the desk. Each of them looked oddly thrilled to be behind there.

  Opening my mouth, I was about to make a comment about the cashbox, then checked myself. This was Vince. Knowing him, the cashbox probably wasn’t even back there – it was probably stuffed under a chair somewhere.

  Instead, we continued talking about the game and other casual things – stories from back in the day – but I noticed Vince kept giving me odd looks.

  After another fifteen minutes, I gave him one and asked, “What, Vince? Why are you doing that squinting thing?”

  “You get laid or something?” Vince asked immediately, and I almost choked on my beer.

  “Damn, Vin.” I laughed. “Be subtle about it.”

  “That’s boring,” he said equably, still squinting at me. “I mean, come on. You’re the happiest and calmest I’ve seen you in months. And you haven’t brought up work or all the asshats at Bold Pictures once. I didn’t wanna ask because I didn’t think you were seeing anybody, though.”

  “I’m not,” I said immediately.

  “But you did get laid.” Vince’s eyes lit up. “Oh shit, was it that Cammie girl? I thought she was kind of shy and quiet. And also your realtor.” He gave me a dubious look.

  I shrugged, both wanting to admit it and wanting to keep it to myself. Yet this was Vince. I pretty much told him everything. “Yeah. It was Cammie.”

  I paused then. Even though I was a picture of nonchalance, loose posture, beer and a game on, that weight pulled on my chest again. It didn’t seem right to drop her name like she was just a one-night stand. What had happened between us had been above and beyond that.

  “Dude, she sounded like a sweetie. I hope you were nice,” Vince said, sounding both like a bro and a grandmother at the same time. I laughed and nodded. He shook his head. “You can’t be breaking hearts like you used to.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That was years ago, Vince. I’m not quite the teen lady-killer anymore.”

  “Still a lady-killer, though,” he pointed out. I clinked his bottle. “Plus, I don’t know, man. This girl sounded different. Like she wouldn’t be able to just walk away from it, you know? Or some people,” Vince amended, sounding flustered. “Like some people, it’s all fun and games, but for some people, it’s really serious and meaningful.” I knew he was both talking about himself and Cammie.

  “Vince, I w
ill not break her heart. I don’t think she cares about me that way,” I said calmly, even as I pictured Hazel in my mind’s eye.

  Sitting across from me at dinner, attentively listening to every word, then fierce in my kitchen, telling me not to give up, and finally, sighing as I kissed her.

  “I will not break her heart,” I said again, firmly, as though making a promise.

  Chapter 16

  Cammie

  Knocking woke me up Sunday morning, and I kicked my way out of a tangle of blankets, almost falling to the floor in my haste to get up. Stumbling down the hall, I then froze as the knock came again, loud and insistent. Oh no. Who the hell is it?

  Hesitating, dancing from foot to foot, I stared at the door, picturing a tall, blue-eyed male on the other side, his face lighting up with a sexy smirk and then pushing his way into my house and further into my life. Maybe pushing me up against a wall again…

  When the knock came again – more of a thud this time – I finally screwed up the nerve to answer. Slowly I pulled it open.

  “Seriously, girl!” Anna made a face as I stared at her and a sigh escaped me. “You make your coffee delivery service and bestie stand on the front porch for hours? There’s bees out here!”

  As Anna pushed in, I peered around her but saw no bees. Shrugging, I followed her in.

  “How come you’re not dressed?” Picking up her iced macchiato, Anna’s eyes swept me from head to toe. “Were you asleep? Cammie Book, sleeping in past 10 a.m.?” Her voice was lightly mocking, but her eyes were wide with surprise.

  I glanced at the clock. It said ten-thirty a.m. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in that late. But it had taken me hours to fall asleep last night.

  “Uh, yeah, I was treating myself,” I muttered, picking up my coffee. I knew it was probably written all over my face, so I patiently waited for Anna to figure it out.