Talking Dirty with the CEO

chapter Two


Joseph stared at the drink the bartender had pushed in his direction. “Not another one?”

“’Fraid so.”

“From the same person?”

“No. This one is from the group over there.” The bartender indicated a booth full of scantily dressed young women with too much makeup and too much hair spray.

They saw him looking and there was much nudging and whispering before they all lifted their glasses to him in a silent toast. One woman blew him a kiss.

Great. This was the third drink someone had bought him in the space of an hour. Had they recognized him? No, it was unlikely. Despite being the owner of one of New Zealand’s most successful technology companies, he kept himself out of the spotlight. Media attention was tedious and there had been the odd occasion where he’d zoned out right in the middle of an interview, which hadn’t been a good look. Since then, he’d left all of that hoopla to his spokesperson.

Besides, there was also the fact that he hadn’t bothered to shave today—too many late nights working on the E-Slate release. Nothing like a five o’clock shadow to add a bit of anonymity.

Joseph raised his glass in their direction in a gesture of thanks. But put it down again without tasting whatever it was they’d bought him. He hadn’t come here to drink—alcohol tended to make him too edgy and he was feeling edgy enough already. No, he’d come here to meet Naughtygirl25.

It wasn’t normally his thing. Not at all. But, dammit, he just hadn’t been able to say no. There had been something about her unexpected request for a date that had intrigued him. And he hadn’t been so intrigued by a woman in a long time.

Usually he wasn’t that bothered. A bit of flirtation, a bit of fun between the sheets…that’s all he needed. And that’s all the women he chose needed, too. He didn’t want anything else from them, though sometimes he wondered what it would be like to have more than just a couple of nights here and there. To be in a relationship with someone. But the thought was always an uncomfortable one. Commitment wasn’t ever going to be something he was capable of, no matter how attractive the idea was to him.

Irritated with the track his mind seemed bent on, Joseph shifted against the bar, scanning the place, surreptitiously looking at women’s chests and checking for sheep brooches. He was happy not knowing what she’d look like, the anticipation of finding out coiling inside him, tight as a spring. Of course he hoped there’d be chemistry—he’d be up for adventures on sheepskin rugs if she wanted—but if she didn’t do it for him, then he would enjoy having a drink with her in any case. She’d been witty and fun online, and that counted for something.

His phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. Pulling it out, he glanced down at the screen. A reminder about Jude’s exhibition opening tonight stared back at him.

Shit. He’d forgotten. As usual, he’d been so focused on one thing he’d forgotten everything else. The reminders were supposed to help, but often he forgot to check them or dismissed them without thinking. God, he hated that part of himself sometimes, especially when he let people down. Important people like his sister.

Cursing, he glanced at the time. Jude’s photography exhibition would probably go on until late so perhaps he could go there after he’d finished his date with Naughtygirl. Hell, maybe he could even bring her with him if they got on well enough.

Quickly Joseph sent his sister a text.

I’ll be late. Sorry. Got caught up. Usual story. Okay to bring a date?

Jude would understand. She was used to the ADHD playing havoc with his memory.

A moment later, a text came back.

Sure. No worries. Who’s the date? Actually, no, don’t tell me. She’ll be gone by morning anyway.

Joseph snorted. Judith tended to be snarky about his transient love life.

After flicking off a sarcastic reply, Joseph put the phone back in his pocket. Then he picked up his half-empty bottle of beer and took another scan around the bar.

Where the hell was Naughtygirl25? He was getting antsy, the familiar, impatient tension building inside him. When he felt like this, he’d often spend an hour on the treadmill or get on with some work. But he couldn’t do that now. Instead he began recounting in his head every single thing he’d done that day, a trick he’d learned as a teenager to help himself relax and concentrate.

It was as he was going over the minutiae of the afternoon’s third product launch meeting that he spotted an interesting-looking woman—very tall, very skinny, with a quantity of chestnut hair swept up on top of her head. Sexy, though. Very sexy. He was a leg man all the way, and her legs, left bare by the extremely short black dress she wore, were spectacular. Though it wasn’t just about her legs. There was something unusual about her. Unlike all the other women in the bar, she appeared to be the only one who obviously did not want to be here. In fact, her whole manner projected intense discomfort, as if she were marching to face a firing squad. Beside her stood another woman, blond and curvy, who kept leaning over and whispering in her ear. The interesting brunette had a hand planted over her heart, a growing, almost mutinous look on her face. As if her friend were telling her things she didn’t want to hear.

Joseph watched them, interest piqued. As if sensing his gaze, the brunette looked in his direction. Her pale face was delicate, pointed, with thickly fringed dark eyes the color of green agates. Not beautiful, but not plain, either. Striking somehow. His interest sharpened, attention focusing on her in the way it always did when he spotted something or someone intriguing.

Her eyes widened when they met his and color flooded her skin, flushing her face bright red. Then she turned hurriedly away and was out the door before he could move.

But not before he’d caught a glimpse of the silver brooch pinned to her black dress. A brooch in the shape of leaping lamb.

Naughtygirl25. And she’d bloody well run out on him.

…

Christie came to a teetering halt outside the packed bar, her heart galloping like a racehorse at Ascot. Her lungs felt tight, the air thin and lacking in oxygen.

Man, talk about a WTF moment. What the hell had gotten into her? First she’d been standing there, freaking out about meeting Studman500 and trying to ignore Marisa telling her to get her hand off the silly lamb brooch she had pinned to her chest so everyone could see it. Then she’d noticed the guy at the bar. The incredibly hot guy. And he’d been staring at her as if she were the only person in the room. Such absolute and complete attention. His gaze refracted heat like sun through a magnifying glass and something inside her had burst into flames, filling her with a strange panic. Then before she could stop herself, she’d fled. Idiot. She was an idiot.

She took a couple of steps along the sidewalk, high, unfamiliar heels making her stumble.

Okay, so the pub had been her own personal version of hell, with all the beautiful people talking and laughing and carrying on. And okay, so she’d felt like an imposter wearing the ridiculous dress and stupid shoes Marisa had insisted on for the date. But did one look from one hot guy really warrant running away like a coward? No, it did not.

Christie took a slow breath, trying to calm herself.

She hadn’t had that weird panicky feeling for years. Not since she’d been a teenager forced into going to her mother’s hideous society parties. The ones where she stood out like a shaggy pony in a stable full of Thoroughbreds.

Leaning against the wall to try to take the pressure off her feet, Christie attempted to figure out yet again what on earth had possessed her to say yes to Ben’s dating article. Yes, he’d promised he’d give her the Ashton Technology E-Slate product launch to cover, which certainly beat having to do yet another review about yet another wireless mouse. But surely even that wasn’t worth this humiliation?

“You’re not wearing Ugg boots,” a male voice said from behind her. A voice like dark, brushed velvet.

All the remaining air escaped her lungs and she gave a gasp, whirling round.

A man stood on the sidewalk not far from her. Tall—taller even than she was—perhaps over six-three, with the broad, powerful shoulders and the lean hips of an Olympic swimmer. She was staring and she couldn’t help it. He had black hair, a bit disheveled, as if he’d run his fingers through it one too many times, and the five o’clock shadow that covered his classical cheekbones and strong, angular jaw gave him a faintly disreputable look. And those eyes… God, the same eyes that had been looking at her back in the bar. So blue. So dark. The color of the sky on the cusp between twilight and full night.

A shiver went through her.

“E-e-excuse me?” she squeaked, her stupid stutter bleeding through.

His gaze dropped to the lamb leaping up her shoulder. “Naughtygirl25, I presume?”

No. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be Studman500. Online dates did not turn out to be men who looked this dark, dangerous, and seriously sexy. Like a pirate or the kind of bad boy your mother warned you about. Oh no they did not.

“Studman?”

“In the flesh.” He grinned and her heart slammed to a halt inside her chest.

Oh God. Why did he have to be her naughty, wicked Studman?

“Uh…I…I…” she managed before her tongue froze and stuck to the roof of her mouth in a way it hadn’t for years and years.

Studman raised one winged brow, hands pushed into the pockets of the black jeans that sat low on his lean hips. There was an air of barely leashed energy about him, like that of a restless lion about to pounce. It was attractive. Thrilling. “Is there a problem?”

Yeah, there was a problem. And it was standing right in front of her. “N-no.”

“But you are Naughtygirl25, right?”

She wanted to say of course she wasn’t. Which was weird because there wasn’t any reason to. Not that she could anyway with the damn brooch on her shoulder, glinting in the streetlight.

Christie tried to get her tongue working again. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I must admit, you’re not quite what I expected.” His gaze began to travel down her figure, assessing her, pausing on her legs before rising back to her face again. “But that’s a good thing.”

A good thing? Something lingered in his eyes, a flame that burned hot. Intent.

She went still, her heart thundering. No guy had ever looked at her like that before. Like she was something delicious he wanted to eat.

“Oh,” she said stupidly. “Why?”

His mouth curved in a slow, sexy smile. “Because I didn’t expect you to be quite so gorgeous.”

Christie gaped at him. Gorgeous? Had he perhaps inhaled something before meeting her? Something illegal? Guys liked her because she was a gamer. Because she didn’t zone out when they started playing their favorite Minecraft YouTube clips or talked about the number of frags in their Halo games.

“What? I’m being inappropriate again?”

Speak, idiot!

“Uh…n-no. I just…just…” She stopped, flushing.

“You just?” he prompted.

“N-nothing.”

His smile deepened. “So do I get to find out why you took one look at me and ran out?”

Ah. Yes, her frightened-rabbit exit. She shifted on her feet, heels giving a dangerous wobble. “I…it was just…I had to leave.” Lame. So lame.

He waited for her to elaborate and when she didn’t, prompted, “Leave for….?”

“Uh, urgent…um…women’s problems.” Oh dear God. Had she really just said that? Was she insane?

But Studman or whoever he was only laughed, the sound of it making her feel good. In the same way licking melted chocolate from a spoon made her feel good. Hot and sweet, and very, very naughty.

“Urgent women’s problems, huh? And here I was thinking it was because you didn’t find me attractive enough.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

His lazy sensual smile went straight to her head like a glass of expensive champagne. “Perhaps. But chemistry is a tricky thing.”

“Chemistry?”

“Yeah, chemistry. We had it online but I wasn’t sure we’d have it in real life.”

“A-and do we?”

His gaze traveled down over the stretchy black dress again before returning to her face, making something way down inside her feel hot and restless and needy. “Oh yeah,” he murmured. “I think we do. Don’t you?”

He seemed to want an answer from her, but the look in his eyes had made her brain decide to take a vacation and she had no idea what to say.

Naughtygirl would know.

The thought hit her like an electric shock.

Yes. Naughtygirl would know. And this was kind of like being online, wasn’t it? He didn’t know who she was and she didn’t know who he was. There were no expectations. No pressures. She could be whoever she wanted to be. Even Naughtygirl25, who took her clothes off and lay on sheepskin rugs with gorgeous, disreputable strangers who called themselves Studman.

Christie swallowed. Then gathered her courage. “Y-yes. I think we do have c-chemistry.”

Way to go with the stutter. Great start.

Both brows drew together this time. “You don’t sound very sure.”

Just pretend you’re typing this into the computer. That he’s not standing right in front of you, blinding you with his hotness.

She lifted her chin. “Well, of course I’m sure. They don’t call me Naughtygirl for nothing, you know.”

“Is that a fact? You were pretty naughty online.” The flame in his gaze burned hotter. “How about in real life?”

Oh wow. Something was crackling in the air between them, a tension that left her breathless.

Was this the chemistry he was talking about? Because if it was…damn.

Christie took an uncertain step toward him. “Oh, I have been known to get pretty naughty there, too.”

He smiled. “Would admitting that I do, in fact, have etchings you can come up and see be too much?”

“Etchings are never too much.”

“In that case, would you like to come up and look at mine?”

“Only if you have a sheepskin rug and Neil Diamond.”

“I don’t. But I can make a mean Bloody Mary.”

“I have a confession. I don’t really like tomato juice.”

“Good. Because neither do I.”

Somehow they’d gotten closer to each other and she had no idea how it had happened. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to get even closer.

Excitement caught in her throat. She took another few steps, her heels teetering, her dress pulling tight around her thighs. Unfamiliar sensations. Reminding her of who she was supposed to be. Naughtygirl.

She took a breath. “Then what do you like?”

“I like women with long legs that go on forever. In stretchy black dresses. Wearing sheep on their chests.” His gaze never left hers.

Another step closer. “It’s not a sheep. It’s a lamb.”

“Some kind of bovine, then.”

His eyes were so blue, even in the dim light of the street. And he smelled good. And he was warm. Hot. She could feel his heat even from… Good God, she was barely inches away from him now.

“Cows are bovine. Sheep are ovine,” she corrected thickly.

He didn’t move, just let her come close, staring down into her eyes, into her. Looking at her as if she was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. The door to the bar opened behind him and people spilled out onto the street, full of loud laughter and shouting. But he didn’t even turn, all his attention focused on her.

And she soaked it up like a plant starved of sunlight.

“Naughtygirl,” he said. “How far are you planning on taking this naughtiness? Because I have to confess, I want to take you home to find out right now.”

Christie’s breath caught. “You want to take me home?” she repeated. Just to be sure she’d heard him correctly.

He smiled. Again. And she melted. Again. “Yes. I’d like to see if you’re wearing a garter belt along with your Ugg boots.” He took one hand out of his pocket and pushed back an errant curl that had come down from her bun. His fingers brushed the side of her neck and she shivered, sparks scattering all over her skin. “And perhaps explore this chemistry.”

Oh bloody hell. He wanted to take her home.

Christie felt the moment slow and come to a complete stop, the air around them thick. Taut with promise. And she was caught in it like a fly in amber.

She could have this. She could go home with this amazingly sexy bad boy. See where it led. See how far she could go. And why not? Why couldn’t the geek get the hot guy for once?

A hot guy who, for some insane reason, seemed to want her, too.

“Yes,” she heard herself say, without a trace of a stutter. “Yes, I’ll come home with you.”

The look on his face changed, his smile taking her breath away. “I was hoping you’d say that. So what’s your name? Or do I keep using your Naughtygirl handle?”

Definitely she wanted to keep being Naughtygirl. Being Christie seemed kind of lame right at this point in time. And tonight was her night to be naughty. As naughty as she dared. “I prefer the handle, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” His gaze lingered on her mouth. “Every girl should be naughty at least once.”

Exhilaration fizzed in her blood. “What about you? Or should I keep calling you Studman?”

He laughed. “No, please don’t. I’m Joseph.”

“Oh, that’s better than Studman.”

“Anything’s better than Studman.”

“This is true.” She wanted to touch him. Touch him the way he’d touched her. And why shouldn’t she? Naughtygirl wouldn’t hesitate. She reached up and touched his stubble-roughened cheek. “But you kind of do look Studman-like. I think it’s the beard.” His skin felt warm, whiskers rough against her fingers “It’s very…” Her breathing faltered.

Oh God. You’re touching him. Actually touching him.

The look in his eyes blazed. But he didn’t move. “Manly?”

“Yes,” she murmured, unable to take her hand away. “And also quite studly.”

“Studly isn’t a word.”

“It should be.”

At that point her mobile burst into song. A stupid tinny version of “Evil on the Rise” by her favorite metal band, Dead Friends. Great. Talk about a mood killer.

Flushing, Christie dropped her hand and turned away, digging in her bag. “God, sorry,” she muttered, hauling out the phone and glaring at the screen. Then stopped glaring when it turned out to be a text from Marisa.

I met a friend who trapped me with a cosmopolitan. Please tell me you’re okay.

“I, um, have to answer this,” she said and quickly typed back a response.

Am fine. Have located Studman. All okay. We’re going out on a date. I’ll text you if I need you.

Then she switched her phone to mute and shoved it right down into the bottom of her bag.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

…

Joseph’s apartment was in one of the ridiculously expensive buildings that lined Auckland’s harbor, only a brief walk away from the bar. And it was the most incredible place she’d ever seen. All white, curved walls, and vast windows that gave stunning views out onto the harbor. With minimalist furniture that looked very expensive. Not to mention uncomfortable. The cheerful clutter of her own apartment looked like a garbage dump in comparison.

She stood in the lounge gazing around wide-eyed while Joseph disappeared into the kitchen to get drinks. There were paintings on the wall, abstracts mostly, but one she recognized. It looked like one by New Zealand’s foremost painter, and his paintings were worth close to a million dollars. She edged up to it, not wanting to get too close in case breathing on it was a bad thing. It was an original, not a print. Obviously Joseph-Whoever-He-Was wasn’t short of money.

She glanced in the direction of the kitchen. So who in fact was he? He’d seemed kind of familiar in some way though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Then again, did she really want to know? Finding out who he was would shatter the whole anonymity thing they had going on here, and she didn’t want to do that.

It was nice being Naughtygirl. Easier somehow. Meant she didn’t have to talk about herself, and let’s face it, that was a relief. People either got her interest in gadgets and computers or they didn’t. And when they didn’t, they really didn’t. Plus she’d also have to confess that this date was research for an article on dating and she didn’t want to have to do that, either.

It’s not research now, though, is it?

No, it wasn’t. She wasn’t here for just for Ben anymore. She was here for herself, too.

Taking another scan around the apartment, her attention snagged on the stereo unit against one wall. Something sleek and white and seriously sexy.

Her eyes widened. Was that a Karlsson Series 6?

One of the guys at the magazine had gotten the chance to review a Karlsson a couple of months ago and had raved about it. Everyone else, Christie included, had been full of tech envy. The brand was just about the best in the world. Not something you could pick up for a couple of hundred dollars at your local appliance shop. The receiver alone cost thousands.

Christie crossed the room and bent to examine it. Oh yeah, it was a Karlsson all right. Beautiful. She reached out a hand.

“Please don’t touch that.”

Christie frowned. Her hand dropped and she turned around.

Joseph stood just behind her, carrying a couple of glasses of wine. “It’s a very expensive stereo.”

“Hey, I get it.” She straightened. “A Karlsson Series 6. Voted hi-fi system of the decade by Pure Tone magazine last year. Currently delivers one of the lowest levels of distortion ever recorded. It has sixteen separate transformers, high-speed rectifiers, also ultra-low filtering impedance capacitors. Essentially its excess noise cancellation abilities are the best in the world. Only twenty were ever made and it’s now a collector’s item.”

He stared at her as if she’d just grown another head. “I guess you’ve seen one before, then.”

Christie grinned at him. “Are you kidding me? I love stereos.”

Unexpectedly, Joseph grinned back. “So do I.”

And for a second a small moment of connection passed between them. A moment when they weren’t anonymous strangers who’d met in a chat room. A moment when they understood each other as if they’d known each other for years.

“You want to know something?” He put the glasses down on a nearby coffee table. “You’re the first woman I’ve had here who’s even noticed my stereo.”

“Oh, uh, really?” Discomfort twisted inside her, the moment of connection fading. Perhaps because it made her think about just what kind of women a guy like him dated.

Supermodels probably. Or rich heiresses.

Or blonde ad executives if you’re Greg.

Definitely not geek girls who found dates in online game forums.

Christie swallowed. A lump of something heavy sat on her chest and she felt sick.

Joseph frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” she said, lying like a rug. “Um, c-can I use your bathroom for a sec?” She wasn’t running away. Not at all. She just needed some space.

“Sure. Down the hallway on your left.”

Christie walked down the hallway, trying to calm the sick feeling.

This was crazy. Where had this awful discomfort come from? It didn’t make any sense.

The bathroom was a temple to hygiene, all pristine white tiles and chrome fittings, but she barely noticed, the heavy thing sitting in the center of her chest getting heavier.

Crossing over to the vanity, she put her hands on the marble and closed her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths.

God, who was she kidding? She wasn’t Naughtygirl. She wasn’t naughty in any way, shape, or form. She was a tech hack who liked computers. And here she was with the hottest guy on the planet, all set to “explore their chemistry,” and where was she? In the bloody bathroom feeling nearly ill with doubt.

Man, what was wrong with her?

Christie opened her eyes and stared at herself in the mirror. Color burned on her cheeks, so intense her freckles turned pink. Her hair had started coming out of the messy bun and now looked like a bird’s nest. Her mascara had smudged, too.

You’ve never been very good with men, have you? Helene’s voice whispered inside her head, insidious.

Christie scowled at herself in the mirror.

No. No way. Her mother didn’t know jack. And she hadn’t spent the last eight years making her own life, living on her own terms, just to fall back into old patterns now.

She’d sworn this date would be amazing. That this date would be for her.

She was Naughtygirl. All she had to do was act like it.

…

Joseph paced around the lounge, antsy and restless. She’d been in that bathroom a long time, hadn’t she? Why? Women’s problems again? Or had he upset her with his quip about other women and his stereo? He’d meant it as a joke, not intending to make her uncomfortable.

Cursing, he made another circuit of the room.

Christ, he hoped he hadn’t blown it, because he hadn’t met a woman he’d wanted quite so much in a very long time.

Naughtygirl was just so…different.

Ovine, not bovine.

Since when had he had a date who corrected him on his sheep terminology? Or on anything, for that matter. Since never. And that was even before the whole stereo conversation. He’d never had a date talk about excess noise cancellation before, either.

And hey, might as well admit to the fact that he totally had the hots for her physically, too.

Long russet lashes and smoky green eyes. A soft red mouth. Stretchy black dress pulling tight around slender thighs. Her elegant neck left bare by thick, upswept hair, small neat ears and delicate, pointed jawline.

So sexy. Even her awkwardness appealed to him, suggesting a sensuality just waiting to be discovered.

Joseph stopped in the middle of the room, staring down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Perhaps she was sick. Perhaps there was something majorly wrong. Perhaps he should be going to see if she was okay.

Not stopping to think, he just headed straight down the hallway to the bathroom. The door was open so he walked right in.

She was standing in front of the vanity, her gaze flicking to his in the mirror as he entered. There was something vulnerable about her, about the look on face. Something uncertain. It hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re not okay, are you?”

She looked away. “I’m fine.”

No, she wasn’t. Any idiot could see that. “Then why did you leave?”

Naughtygirl turned from the mirror. “Would you believe women’s problems again?”

“Not really, no.”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m just…”

“Just what? Look, if you don’t want to take this further we don’t have to.” Fighting his own disappointment, he made himself say it. “I could take you home if you’d prefer.”

Her head came up at that, her eyes wide. “You really want to take me home?”

“No. I don’t. I’m just saying that if you want to leave, then you can.”

For a long moment she stared at him. “But…I don’t want to leave.”

Joseph stepped into the bathroom. She didn’t move as he came closer, just kept staring at him.

He halted mere inches from her. “Good,” he said, his voice thick. “Because, honey, I really don’t want you to go.”

She blinked, white teeth sinking into her luscious lower lip. Nibbling on it. And he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her mouth, wondering how she would taste. What sounds she would make if he bit her there.

And the look in her eyes changed, became determined. As if she’d made some sort of decision.

Before he could move, before he’d even had time to think, she’d closed the gap between them, rising up on her toes to press her mouth to his.

Electricity shot through him. As though he’d been plugged into a power socket, the current shooting straight to his groin. Jesus Christ. He’d never felt anything like it.

He reached for her but she was already pulling away, her face gone bright red, the sound of her breathing loud in the confined space of the bathroom. Staring at him in utter amazement.

So she’d felt it, too. God, they didn’t just have chemistry, they had the whole bloody science curriculum.

“Oh, I’m s-sorry,” she began. “I should never have done—”

But Joseph didn’t care what she should never have done. He only had one thought in his head: he had to kiss her again. Unable to stop himself, he took her face between his hands and covered her mouth with his. She shuddered, a small, shocked sound escaping from her.

Champagne. She tasted like champagne. And she was delicious.

He kissed her harder, deeper, exploring the heat of her mouth. She gave a soft groan, melting into him, her hands on his chest, responding to his kiss with the kind of abandon reserved only for lovers, not strangers who’d only just met. It took his breath away. The scent of her flooded his senses, lavender and underlying that, a sensual musky smell that made him think of arousal, of sex.

Helpless desire grabbed him by the throat. His hands found her hips, tugging her tall, slender body hard against him. The feel of her was incredible. So warm.

She sighed, her arms around his neck as though she never intended to let him go, beginning to kiss him back uncertainly, as if she didn’t know quite what she was doing.

It was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.

The kiss began to burn out of control and it was only when he felt something soft against his hands that he realized he’d pulled her hair out of her bun and that it was coming down, raw silk against his skin. He pushed his fingers into the softness of it, gripping tightly as he slid a hand up from her hip, cupping one small, round breast. Then he circled her nipple with his thumb, feeling it harden beneath the stretchy fabric of her dress.

She gasped, arching into his hand, slender body shivering against his. So he did it again, circling then brushing over the hardened point with the pad of his thumb as he kissed her.

“J-Joseph,” she murmured against his mouth. “That feels…oh…”

“Good?” He eased her back against the vanity, pressing the aching hardness of his groin against the softness of hers.

“Yes….so good…” Her hands moved against his chest, curling into the fabric of his T-shirt. “I want…I want…more…”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Sliding his arms around her, his hands found the soft, warm skin of her bare back, stroking the length of her spine. Then he found the tie of her halter dress at the nape of her neck and tugged it loose. He eased the fabric away, baring her to the waist. She inhaled sharply.

Even the harsh lighting of the bathroom couldn’t mar the beauty of her. Her breasts small and perfect. Her skin like alabaster.

He bent to kiss her throat, cupping one bare breast in his hand, her skin hot against his palm. Moving down farther to flick his tongue over her hard pink nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking hard.

She arched her body up, her fingers pushing into his hair. “Oh please…that’s…yes…”

It wasn’t just her mouth that tasted delectable. Her skin did, too. Sweet and salty at the same time. And the sounds she made… God, he was so hard he could barely think.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as he swirled his tongue around her nipple and she shuddered, panting. Her hips shifted, pressing against his aching groin and his mind just about blanked.

Christ, he wasn’t even going to make it to his bedroom at this rate.

Releasing her nipple from his mouth, Joseph ignored her moan of protest as he raised his head. “I want you,” he murmured roughly. “Here. Now. Right now. “

Her eyes were glazed, her face flushed. She nodded. Then took a fistful of his T-shirt, pulling him back to her.

Thank God.

After lifting her up onto the edge of the vanity, Joseph pushed up her short black dress, hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, and slowly eased them down her legs and off. Then he slid his palms up smooth bare skin. She shivered as he slipped a hand between her thighs, his fingers finding the soft, wet folds of her sex.

“Joseph…” she murmured, his name becoming a husky, sensual sound as she spread her knees for him.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was leaning back, her half-naked body in a graceful arch, lashes almost closed, her beautiful mouth open as he stroked her, passion and pleasure lighting her up, burning inside her like a torch.

Beautiful. She was so goddamn beautiful.

“Please…Joseph.”

Condoms. Where the hell were the condoms? God, he wasn’t going to be able to wait a second longer. He groped in the topmost drawer, finding what he was looking for. It took only a moment to rip open the packet, another moment to undo his jeans and sheath himself, and then, the most glorious moment of all, that last heavenly second as he thrust inside her, hearing her gasp of pleasure, feeling her legs wrap around him, the tight, wet heat of her surrounding him, gripping him.

Joseph groaned right along with her, his mouth pressed against the base of her throat. It was all he could do to keep himself under control, to hold himself back until she was ready.

But in the end, he didn’t need to do much in the way of holding back, because she was as ready as he was. Arching against him, her arms wound tight around his neck, she cried out as he drew his hips back, sliding out of her and then in again, deep and hard, setting up a rhythm that had her shuddering, panting, her moans hoarse in his ears.

So good. If he wasn’t careful he’d lose himself. Not a bad idea, all things considered.

He raised his head and kissed that luscious mouth of hers again, cutting off the sounds she made. No, she didn’t taste like champagne. She tasted way better. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted more.

His kisses became hungry and hot, and she followed him every step of the way. Inexperienced but in no way disappointing. In fact, it only added to her allure. Perhaps this was new for her. Perhaps she was finding this as intense as he was.

Oh God, he hoped so, because he was ready to explode here. And if she wasn’t…

Abruptly, Naughtygirl’s head fell back and her body tightened around him, her legs a vise around his waist. She gave a desperate, raw cry, almost of anguish, as the climax ripped through her. Joseph closed his eyes and turned his face against her throat, letting himself go right along with her, the pleasure shooting along his nerve endings, firing him up.

Heaven.

Afterward, it was a long time before he could move. A long time before he could speak. A long time before his hands lost their death grip on her hips.

She waited against him, barely breathing. And then, so suddenly that it took him by surprise, she pushed him away with all her strength. He fell back, stumbling, reaching to pull his jeans up. But by the time he had, it was too late. She’d slipped off the vanity and was out the door before he could even protest.

As he hauled his jeans up, cursing, he heard the sound of the front door of the apartment slam.

Naughtygirl25 had run out on him for the second time that evening.