Page 43 of The CEO Enemy

She doesn’t want my kiss to stop.

So, I don’t.

Both my hands fully cup her breasts as I deepen the kiss again, finding her tongue, tracing her firm nipple through the white cotton. She lets out several soft moans and bucks her hips against my thigh.

I’m hard as a rock. How long does it take for the tub to fill? Already, I picture myself hoisting her over my shoulder and marching toward our wet destination.

Just when I reach for her hips, from outside the suite door, there’s the unmistakable rattling of the housekeeping cart.

There’s a glimmer of disappointment on Jess’s face, but she immediately straightens herself and steps away.

“This didn’t happen,” she says. “I mean, it was fake. Just a training exercise,” she adds and increases the distance between us, straightening her clothes and adjusting her sunglasses.

It was fake?

Just a training exercise?

What the fuck?

Is she having regrets?

When Pauline walks in, conducting a quality inspection and providing instructions to the housekeeper next to her, Jess is adjusting one of the paintings on the wall while I remain standing by the window. If I wasn’t thrown off by what she said, the entire situation would be hilarious.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,” Pauline apologizes, swiveling her gaze from Jess to me and back to her. “So? What do you guys think?” she asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension she just interrupted.

“I think it looks great,” Jess chirps with the usual pep in her voice, as if I only imagined having her tongue in my mouth. “And I’m glad all the renovations are finally complete.” She looks at me. “Right, Mr. Blackwood?”

“Right. The interior designer did a good job,” I agree with a nod. “I’ll leave you to it then. Don’t forget we have a conference meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t worry, I have an excellent memory.”

The double meaning isn’t lost on me.

15

JESS

Why did I kiss him?

I shouldn’t have done it.

Sweet Jesus, is he a good kisser.

It took everything in me to stop and not to beg for more. My brain has never been mushier. My nipples have never been harder. My panties have never been wetter.

It was a mistake.

But a good one.

I mean, it was good practice, just in case we have to kiss in front of Richard.

No problem. I can maintain a distinction between our fake relationship and work.

Before the “brief” moment in the Presidential Suite, I was hopeful about this new partnership with Sean. He’s been surprisingly reasonable, enough so that it almost made me forget who I’m dealing with.

Why, oh why, did I forget myself? The way my knees turned to jelly should have been my first warning—a big red stop sign. The way my heart skipped several beats when our lips touched should have been my second—a neon sign blinking “danger ahead.” The way my muscles clenched should have been the third—and final—siren blaring in my head.

But clearly, I missed every cue to run for the hills.

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