Talking Dirty with the CEO (7 page)

Liz left the room while Christie gave him a curiously defiant look. “Hello, Mr. Ashton. I’m Christie—”

“I know who you are.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You do?”

Right. So she was going to pretend nothing had happened between them? Annoyance cut through his fascination. Why the hell would she do that? Had she not enjoyed what they’d done together?

“What? You mean apart from the fact that Liz just introduced you?” Joseph folded his arms. “Well, here’s a reminder. You on the bathroom vanity. Me inside you while you screamed in my ear.”

Her face went beet red. “I-I-I— “

“So it does ring a few bells?”

“I didn’t scream.”

“Sure you did, honey. I was there, remember? But five seconds later you weren’t.”

Her mouth closed with a snap. Christie’s gaze slid away, her hands clutching the straps of the scruffy leather bag she had slung over her narrow shoulder.

His annoyance began to escalate. She couldn’t even look him in the eye? “Don’t tell me,” he said, unable to help himself. “Women’s problems again?”

She became even redder, if that was possible. Small white teeth nibbled on her lower lip and he tried to ignore the stab of lust that speared through him.

God, he remembered that mouth. Remembered the taste of her…

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me,” she said at last.

“Why wouldn’t I? I don’t make a habit of forgetting women I have wild bathroom sex with.”

“Oh.” She still didn’t look at him.

An awkward silence fell.

Was she shy? Embarrassed? What?

“Any time you’re ready,” he prompted.

Christie let out an audible breath, then suddenly she was all business, checking her watch and looking impatient. “We can discuss that later, can’t we? I have to do this interview and you’ve only allotted me ten minutes.”

Oh, dammit, the bloody interview. He’d forgotten. He cursed. “Fine. Interview first.”

He strode to the couch, flung himself down on it, and watched her sit on one of the armchairs opposite him, pulling a digital voice recorder and her phone out of her bag as she sat down. She fussed around with the recorder, then sat back, fingers working the screen of her phone with great intention.

Joseph gritted his teeth, trying to figure out why he was so annoyed with her. So she’d run out. Did he really care that much?

Yeah, he decided, actually he did. She’d pushed him away hard. As though he’d hurt her or something, and he hated the thought of that. He had his faults, but hurting women wasn’t one of them.

Christie made a humming noise and his thoughts veered away from his anger, distracted by the sound. She had a fierce look on her face, a crease between her brows. He couldn’t stop looking at the shape of her mouth. The soft curve of her throat.

Impatience bit deep and along with it, desire.

Was ten minutes going to be enough for the interview, and for him to get the answers he wanted from her? It wouldn’t if she didn’t hurry the hell up.

“Ten minutes,” he reminded her, drumming his fingers on his knee.

Christie flashed him an annoyed glance. “I know.”

“Though it’s nine minutes now.”

“Give me a moment to get my questions, okay?” The crease between her brows had deepened. She cursed and muttered something about “stupid reception.”

“Can’t find them?”

“Don’t rush me.”

Beneath his impatience, a small kernel of unwilling amusement glowed. “Giving me orders, Naughtygirl? I like it. And that’s eight minutes, by the way.”

She glared at him. “Do you mind? Important journalist stuff going on here and counting down is not helping.”

Losing what remained of his minuscule store of patience, Joseph leaned forward and plucked the phone out of her grasp.

“Hey!” she protested. “I need that!” She grabbed at it, but he held it out of her reach.

“No, you don’t. Stop wasting time and just ask me some stuff. Then we can get on to what’s really important here.”

Green sparks flickered in her eyes, flashes of temper. “Actually, what’s important is my interview.”

“You’re cute when you’re angry, you know that?”

“Give me back the phone, Mr. Ashton.”

“I was Joseph to you last week.” He paused for effect. “Christie.”

She flushed as he said her name. “Yeah, well, you’re Mr. Ashton now.”

“Harsh, Naughtygirl. What did I ever to do you? Oh yes, that’s right. Only gave you a screaming orgasm.”

“Can you please stop mentioning the orgasms?”

“Why? Does it turn you on?” Maybe he was being a tad childish but he couldn’t seem to stop the words coming out of his mouth.

Her eyes glittered and her T-shirt stretched tight over her breasts as she sucked in a breath, the press of her nipples obvious through the fabric. And he was betting that didn’t have anything to do with the air-conditioning.

Oh yeah, she could deny it all she liked, but she was turned on.

Just like he was.

Christie’s teeth caught her lower lip yet again, and that did not help the tight feeling happening in the vicinity of his groin. “No, of course not.” Her voice had a husky, smoky quality that sounded downright illegal.

“Liar,” he murmured, holding her gaze. “You’re as turned on as I am.”

The tension in the room pulled achingly tight.

Then there was a brief knock on the door and Liz, clearly oblivious to the mood she’d just killed, poked her head around it. “Five minutes, Joseph.”

Ah, shit. Already? “Thanks for the reminder, Liz,” he said through gritted teeth.

Christie blinked and sat back in her seat, pushing back a thick lock of hair that had fallen over her eye. “Great. Thanks for wasting my time, Mr. Ashton.” She said his name with particular emphasis. “Now give me my damn phone.”

If she thought he was going to let her go so easily, she had another think coming. He wanted his explanation.

Not just an explanation. Don’t kid yourself.

May as well admit it. He wanted her, too.

She sat across from him, arms folded, looking all stern and annoyed. And all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her. Find the passion they’d had in his bathroom.

He’d never experienced anything like it in all his life, and he’d be damned if he let the chance of experiencing it again slip through his fingers.

Joseph leaned back against the couch. “No,” he said.

“What do you mean,
no
?”

“I mean no, you can’t have your phone back.”

“Why the hell not?” The green sparks in her eyes had become tiny flames.

“Because I want to know why you ran out on me. And I’ve got a feeling getting an explanation from you is going to take longer than five minutes.”

“Are you always this irritating?”

“Frequently.”

Her chin lifted. “I don’t have to give you anything.”

“Yeah, you do.” He held her gaze, letting her see what was in his. “You came apart in my arms, Christie St. John. You screamed my name. You gave me the best orgasm of my life. Then you left me standing there with my pants around my ankles, trying to figure out what happened.”

She blushed, the red chasing over her face like a forest fire over snow. She opened her mouth but he raised a hand, silencing her. The hand that held her phone.

“So here’s how this is going to go. If you want your phone, if you want your precious interview, you’re going to have to give me a full and frank explanation of why you left.” He smiled. “At my place.”

…

Christie gaped. Then realized she was gaping and shut her mouth before she started looking like some kind of moronic fish.

His place? This interview was turning into the debacle of the century. She’d decided to act as if the whole one-night stand thing hadn’t happened. Tough it out. But had that ever been mistake. One mention of the vanity incident and she’d been stammering like an idiot. Then, for some reason, the net had been ultra-slow and she hadn’t been able to download her questions from her cloud storage drive. And then he’d bloody hijacked her damn phone.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Joseph sat opposite her on the soft plush red couch, one arm along the back of it, holding her phone in the other. A relaxed pose. As if he had all the time in the world.

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think? Do we have a deal?”

As if she could actually think with him sitting there, looking so damn gorgeous. She’d thought from the pictures she’d unearthed on the net that he wouldn’t be her type, but had she ever been wrong. The pictures hadn’t captured his formidable charisma, the fizzing, buzzing energy that crackled around him like cut electrical wires. The energy that had been so compelling that night outside the bar.

Christie tried to kick-start her sluggish brain cells. “Your place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled that incredible smile of his and a few more of her brain cells expired in ecstasy.

“As in go home with you?”

“I think that’s what I said, didn’t I?”

Christie’s mouth dried, a peculiar feeling curling through her body. A weird combination of fear and anticipation and…excitement. She tried to ignore it. “But why your place?”

Joseph’s gaze turned intent. He fiddled with her phone, turning it over and over in one long-fingered hand. “Would you like a benign, well-intentioned lie or complete honesty?”

Something about the way he said it made all the air in her immediate vicinity feel very thin. “Um… Maybe honesty,” she said unsteadily.

His movements stilled. The look in his eyes pinned her to the spot. “Because after the interview, I’m planning on seducing you.”

The air went from being thin to nonexistent. “W-what?” Damn, bloody stutter.

He tilted his head. “Too honest? I could go with the well-intentioned lie instead. And that involves me giving you the interview you wanted, and you giving me the explanation that I wanted, then me shaking your hand and letting you leave. Would you prefer that?”

He had to be messing with her. They’d both been there, done that with each other. Why a repeat?

“What I prefer,” she snapped, “is the truth.”

“I told you the truth.”

“But you didn’t mean it.”

His eyes widened. “Of course I bloody meant it. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Come on,” she said, feeling oddly defensive. “The whole reason you even kissed me in the first place was only because you were grateful I noticed your stupid stereo.”

Surprise crossed his face. “Actually, honey, if you remember, you were the one who kissed me.”

She flushed. Oh yeah. So she had. “Well…I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?”

Christie’s jaw firmed. “No. I didn’t.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“And what about the sex? Was that only because I was grateful you noticed my stupid stereo too?”

Anger flared from some deep, fragile part of her soul. “Well, wasn’t it?”

“No. It wasn’t.” His gaze held hers, so intense all the hot, angry words she’d been going to say dried up in her mouth. “The sex afterward was because I wanted you so much I couldn’t stop myself from having you.”

Something squeezed hard inside her chest. A hope she couldn’t allow herself to have. “I don’t believe you.”

Joseph bit off a curse, tossing her phone carelessly onto the couch beside him. Then he leaned forward and reached for her, his hand on the back of her head, pulling her to him before she could move. And then the whole world stopped on its axis as his mouth covered hers.

The kiss stole her breath. Stole her mind. Every thought vanishing from her head.

Hot, hungry, and so very, very insistent.

And over way too soon.

Joseph released her, sitting back in his seat, leaving her shaking and almost unable to speak.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked softly.

Christie stammered like an idiot.

At that moment a knock came on the suite door and his media person stuck her head around it again, giving Christie a pointed look. “Time’s up. Are you ready for the next one, Joseph? It’s
Complete PC
.”

Joseph sat back in his seat, composed. As if he hadn’t delivered the kind of kiss that would have made a stone curl its toes. If a stone had toes. “Yeah, Liz. Send them in.” And then he added quietly, for Christie’s ears alone. “If you want to continue this interview, then meet me downstairs in an hour. If not…” He picked up her phone and put it in his pocket, the look in his eyes all challenge, “Don’t.”

Chapter Five

The interviews took forever and he hated every minute of them. Hated sitting still. Hated answering the same boring questions over and over again. But considering that the launch of the E-Slate was his personal baby, it was important he showed up personally.

Thinking of Christie, of the kiss he’d given her, did not help.

Perhaps that hadn’t been a good move. But she’d seemed so adamant that he couldn’t possibly want her that he hadn’t been able to think of another way to convince her.

And convincing her had seemed quite vital at the time. He’d wanted her to know he was serious. Seriously attracted. Maybe he’d been too blunt about that, but he liked to be up-front with people. And he liked them to be up-front in return.

He’d told her what he wanted. She didn’t have to turn up if she didn’t want that, too.

The last interview wrapped up, Joseph dealt with a couple of last-minute things with Liz, then went to find Brenda, his second in command, to let her know he was going. Fifteen minutes later, he made his way down to the hotel foyer, telling himself he didn’t feel the odd unsettledness in his gut. Almost as if he were…anxious.

An unsettledness that disappeared the moment he saw Christie sitting on one of the couches in the foyer, chestnut ponytail a riot of curls down her back. And other feelings took its place. Anticipation. Satisfaction. The hot lick of desire.

She was talking to a group of guys, all of them with that nerdy, game-boy look to them.

He stopped for a moment, watching her as she chatted. She didn’t seem as prickly with them as she had been with him. An easy, natural smile lit up her face. Then she laughed, and Christ the sound was sexy. Low. Husky. Almost dirty.

A strange feeling caught in his chest. What if
he
could make her laugh like that?

As if she’d felt him watching, she broke off her conversation and looked at him. All at once the laughter disappeared from her face, a guarded expression taking its place.

Joseph cursed under his breath, feeling as though he’d just kicked a puppy or something. The rest of the guys around her were gazing at him wide-eyed, and he knew they were going to break into some kind of fan thing if he wasn’t careful.

As he came up to them, he grinned and said, “Hey guys, need a word in private with Christie here.”

Instantly they were all nodding, smiling nervously in return, scattering toward the doors in their haste to do his bidding. One of them waved a hand at Christie. “See ya, Chris. We’ll be at E-Blitz if you change your mind.”

Joseph knew E-Blitz
.
An Internet café that hosted lots of online gaming tournaments. He used to be a fixture there when he’d been younger and jobless. Before he’d discovered his talent for taking apart technology and putting it back better than before.

“You got another date?” he asked.

She stood as he approached, a wary look in her eyes and a very determined cast to her chin. “No. Like I said. I need this interview.” She crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture. “But I’m not sleeping with you again if that’s what you’re expecting.”

Well, that was certainly clear. He thrust his hands in his pockets. “Sleeping wasn’t what I had in mind.”

And sure enough she flushed. “I’m not having sex with you.”

“Pity. I would have liked a whole night with you. Five minutes on the vanity wasn’t nearly enough.”

Christie’s blush became an interesting shade of crimson. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Teasing me.”

“Because I love the way you blush. It’s adorable. And your eyes get all sparky and green.”

A mutinous expression shifted over her face. “I’m
not
sleeping with you.”

“No problem, I got it.”

“And no more kisses, either, okay?”

“Then stop biting your lip like that.”

She stopped nibbling. “There. Happy?”

“Not really. Your mouth is still red and I still want to kiss it.”

“There will be no kissing.” She glared at him “Understood?”

She might think that now but he could be persuasive when he chose. Very persuasive. “I think we’ve established that. Shall we go?”

Ten minutes later, back in his apartment, Joseph threw his keys on the console table in the hall, handed Christie her phone, and gestured toward the living room. “You remember where it is, right? With the stereo?”

“The Karlsson Series 6
,
you mean?” She enunciated the words very clearly. “Yeah, I remember.”

He grinned. “Good. Then why don’t you make yourself at home while I get a drink.”

“I don’t need a drink.”

So she was going to be like that, was she? Fine. “Suit yourself.”

But in the kitchen he pulled out a bottle of very nice chardonnay and two glasses. She was cutting off her nose to spite her pretty face and once her temper had calmed, she might regret it.

Back in the lounge, he found her perched on the end of his expensive designer couch, hunched over her phone, the voice recorder all set on the low, black stone coffee table.

He put the wine down on the coffee table and poured two glasses.

Christie didn’t look up, working on her phone.

“I read your article.” He sat on the couch beside her.

The movement of her finger on the screen paused as she registered his presence. But she didn’t look up. “What article?”

“The one on dating.”

“The one on—” She stopped and her head jerked up, gaze locked with his

“Yes,” he said, keeping it casual. “The one where you went out with a guy called Studman500.”

“How did you know?”

“When I saw you in the crowd, I asked one of my staff to see if they could find out who you were. And they did. They also brought me the latest issue of
Total Tech.
”

“Oh.” The word was soft. “So I guess you know that our date was research? At least, that’s what it was supposed to be.”

“Research, huh?”

A sigh escaped her. “Yeah.”

After a moment she put her phone on the table. Then turned to him, a grimly determined look on her face. “I owe you an apology. I should have told you right from the start.” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “And I totally didn’t intend to have sex with you when I asked you for the date, okay? That was…kind of unexpected.”

Her honesty took him by surprise. The women he dated tended to be game-players. They pretended they weren’t into his money or his looks, when of course the opposite was true. Not that he cared. He didn’t give a toss about their opinions.

But there was something about Christie’s openness that touched him. “Jumping a woman in my bathroom isn’t something I normally do, either,” he admitted. And, because he wanted to see her smile, “I’m usually way more slick than that.”

His reward was the way her luscious mouth relaxed into a small curve. “I have to say, you don’t look like the type of guy who plays
Zombie Force Online
.”

“I’m not. And I have another confession for you. I’m not really Studman500.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was in a meeting with one of my employees. Who apparently plays a lot of online games when he should be working. He got up to answer a phone call and while he was on the phone, your chat window popped up on his computer.” Joseph grinned. “I liked the Ugg boot and garter belt combo.”

Christie’s smile deepened. “I did wonder. We were talking about gaming gear and what we wore when we were online. He mentioned something about a Master Chief helmet with built-in microphone. I thought Ugg boots were better.”

“Way better. But I can give him your number if you’d prefer to talk to him.”

“God no. Studman was such a lame handle.”

He laughed. Karl would be gutted. “You’re right. It’s very lame. I would have chosen something much more classy. Like Big Boy. Or Love Machine.”

Christie ducked her head, but not before he caught the brilliance of that smile again. “I like Love Machine. You should keep it.”

“I will.” He waited a moment. “So? Are you going to tell me what made you run out on me?”

“Oh. That.” Christie’s smile faded. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m sorry, too. I thought I’d hurt you.”

“No. Honestly, you didn’t. I think I just got overwhelmed. I…” She stopped, looking embarrassed. “Well, I don’t normally sleep with guys I’ve only just met and I guess I freaked out.”

Something in him, a small hard knot, abruptly unraveled. He couldn’t stop himself—he reached out, touched the soft skin of her cheek, and cupped her jaw in his palm. “That was some freak-out.”

She didn’t move. “Actually…I…I thought you might regret it.”

“Why on earth would you think that? Did I say something that—”

“No. No, you didn’t. I just…” She faltered, glancing away. “I didn’t want to stick around in case you did regret it.”

The fragile note in her voice made an unfamiliar protectiveness gather inside him. “The only thing I regret,” he said gently, “is your leaving.”

Her gaze came back to his and for a second they just looked at each other.

Then her lashes fell and she pulled away from him. “Sorry, I have to do this interview, remember?”

The wary, guarded look was back in her eyes again, and he decided he didn’t like it.

“You don’t like me touching you?”

“The interview, Joseph.”

He wanted to growl. Why did this woman, this frustrating, surprising woman, have to be so different? Why couldn’t she cling just a bit? Or be all over him like other women seemed to want to do? He wouldn’t mind, not with her.

“Ouch,” he said.

Christie gave him a wary look. “What do you mean,
ouch
?”

“I’ve never been rejected before. It hurts.”

“But I’m not…not rejecting you.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“No, I’m not. I just don’t want to sleep with you.”

“How is that not rejection?”

She glanced down at her phone again, held loosely in her hands. “I don’t understand. Why should you care? You must have hundreds of women you can call on. You don’t need me.”

“No, you’re right, I don’t need you. But I do want you.”

Stuff the bloody interview. He wanted her smile back. Wanted to bury his face in her neck, inhale the musk and lavender, sensuality and innocence of her scent. She was so sexy in her Gothic T-shirt, her skinny jeans, and her velvet boots. He wanted to push her back on the couch, slowly pull her jeans down, unlace those boots, and peel everything from her.

Or maybe everything but the boots. Yeah, she could keep those on.

Christie stared at her phone for a long moment. Then she raised her head and looked at him. “Why? Why do you want me?”

Challenge lurked in her eyes but behind it, he caught a glimpse of her vulnerability.

Joseph reached out for her again, sliding his palm along her jaw. “I can get sexy anywhere, Christie. But sweet, funny, and smart as hell, too?” He let his thumb trace her lower lip. “That only comes with you.”

…

Christie froze. He’d moved closer to her, the heat coming from his palm on the side of her jaw like a blowtorch applied directly to her skin.

She didn’t know what to say or how to respond. No one had ever called her sexy before, let alone all that other stuff about being sweet and smart. And funny.

Well , actually, Joseph called you gorgeous the night you met him.

Yeah, he had. But then she’d been Naughtygirl and tonight she was Christie, and somehow that made everything different. Somehow that made everything worse.

She didn’t want to look into his eyes but she made herself. Steeled herself. “Okay, so I’ll give you smart. But I’m not that funny. And as for sexy,” She stopped, hating how unsteady her voice sounded. “I’m wearing Docs for God’s sake. How can you be sexy in Docs? And a Death’s Head T-shirt?”

Joseph stared at her, his thumb continuing to move along the line of her jaw, caressing, generating sparks of heat. “I think you could wear a sack and I’d find you sexy. Hell, you would not believe the fantasy I’m having right at this moment. Of you with your legs around my waist, wearing only your Docs.”

“Oh,” she said faintly.

His gaze turned hooded as it dropped to her mouth. “I was kind of hoping for better than ‘oh.’”

“The in-interview,” she murmured, her stammer rising as she tried to find some kind of reference point to hold on to. Because the intensity in his gaze was turning her brain into mush.

She hadn’t let herself think about his intentions when she’d decided to come back here with him. The interview, that’s what mattered. That’s
all
that mattered.

She thought he’d give up. That perhaps he’d lose interest in her once she’d told him that there was no way she was sleeping with him.

But she hadn’t counted on his persistence. Or her susceptibility to him.

I can get sexy anywhere…

Naughtygirl in her stretchy black dress and heels was sexy. And apparently Christie in her jeans and Docs and T-shirt was sexy, too.

Her mouth was dry, every single objection she had, every reason that sleeping with him was such a bad idea, vanishing out of her head.

“Sorry, but I don’t really give a crap about the interview,” Joseph said. He ran his thumb along her lower lip again, pressing down, opening her mouth. Then he leaned down, brushed his mouth over hers.

The touch was fleeting, leaving her shivering and hungry for more.

“I thought I said no k-kisses,” she whispered.

“I know, but I’m trying to change your mind.” Then he kissed her again, lingering for longer this time, his tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting her. Exploring.

Her phone slid out of her nerveless fingers and hit the carpet with a soft
thunk
. Christie barely registered the fact that it had gone.

Joseph drew back. “How am I doing?”

She tried to speak. “Uh…I think…I’m still on the fence. You might want to…you know, argue a bit more.”

He didn’t hesitate, covering her mouth again with his.

She couldn’t stop the moan that broke from her, scalding heat washing through her. Helplessly she reached for him, curling her hands in the cotton of his shirt, pulling him closer.