Page 15 of The CEO Enemy

When I stand, I gently smooth her dress, which is bunched around her waist, down over her hips, ending the show.

“What…no, please.”

She begins undoing my belt, and my phone starts to buzz—again.

Shit.

“Ignore it,” she urges, her lips going for my throat.

She attempts to yank me into a filthy kiss, but I stop her. Given the insistent phone call, I know it can only be a work-related emergency, and I don’t have time for explanations. I reach down and stop her, gently pushing her hands away.

“Can’t.” Reaching into my pocket, I draw out my phone and notice that it’s a call from Connor.

“I’m sure I can persuade you.”

The thing is, she absolutely could, if circumstances were different. What little we’ve done together is enough for me to want more. I’m tempted to accept her offer. But dealing with the wrath of a tipsy lady who, in her sober moment, recognizes that I’m not prepared to commit is a precarious storm I’m not sure I’m ready to step into.

“Any other time, sweetheart, I’d be all about it. But I have to take this. You take a moment to freshen up, and I’ll drive you home.”

Without waiting for a response, I push past her and out the door.

“How much did she have?” I ask the bartender.

“Two Strawberry Starlet cocktails.”

Only two? Clearly she’s not used to alcohol. I grab my jacket and throw down money for our drinks. With that handled, I step out to call Connor. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nuthin’. Just lettin’ you know I’ve headed out with the blonde from the bar. That pretty pussy is about to eat me dick up to me balls. Thought you’d like to know.”

“That’s it? That’s why you fucking called? Send a message next time.”

“Wanted to deliver the visual myself since you fucked off without me anyway. Where’d you end up?”

“Good night, Connor.” I end the call without another word.

Dick.

6

JESS

What the hell just happened?

I stand in the bathroom, rocking my dress with no undies—but with a surplus of irritation. Trying to get my breathing under control, my body is still tingling with the aftershocks of my orgasm. The throbbing between my legs reminds me that we were only getting started. One second, I have Mr. Neighbor’s fantastic mouth on me, and the next, he’s gone.

What…the actual—? Who does that? Rude.

My opinion of him continues to decrease the more we interact.

Hurriedly, I pull myself together, wanting to go after him and give him a piece of my mind. Again. But when I finally manage to make it back to the main bar area, his suit jacket is gone and he’s nowhere in sight.

The bartender looks up at me when I approach.

I sit down with a huff, fishing out a few bills to pay my tab.

“Your friend covered what you’ve drunk already,” he says.

Some apology.

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