Page 27 of Handling the CEO

“Ogling again?” he asks without turning, knowing exactly why I am so quiet.

“More like objectifying, actually,” I confess shamelessly. He shakes his head at me, then plops back on the sheets, texting with his right hand, but with his left holding my boob.

“What? I am doing some objectifying of my own, maybe a bit of fondling the CEO in my bed,” he answers without looking at me when I give him a silent glare.

He finishes his texts, then puts down his phone and does a bit more than just fondling.

Jon

Iwokeupfirstafter our post-fondling nap, and left DJ sleeping like a starfish in my bed, putting on some shorts and a t-shirt. It is surprising how much space she occupies but can’t seem to mind at all—even the occasional forearm to my face was quite endearing.

The sun is about to set over Kerrington, and I stop on the kitchen balcony to admire the sunset. My phone buzzes and it’s Nate, and I had forgotten he was back in town this weekend again.

“Hey Jon, what’s up? Want to go for a drink tonight? Maybe pick up a chick or two this time? You never said what you did last Saturday when you abandoned me at the bar.”

“Nah, already have company. Go on without me. I didn’t leave you like an unwanted puppy—you had your own ride and I doubt you left by yourself.”

“You got a girl over? Anyone I know? Perhaps a certain hot brunette?” I can hear him grinning through the phone.

“No comment and how about you fuck right off?”

“Oh! It is her! Ha-ha! I knew she was more than an employee!”

“Yeah, turns out she wasn’t even my employee—I created this story in my head that she works for me, when she actually has her own company and is just collaborating with us.”

“Hilarious! What a dumbass you are!” he correctly names it. “At least you cleared the air… so this one has enough personality, I hope.”

“More than plenty. She’s pretty awesome.” I look longingly toward the house. “By the way, I ran into Tae today—she looked great. I am partially glad the bitch moved back to Florida if I get to spend more time with my sister now.”

“That is good news—when you see her, let me know. I would love to visit my favorite ‘almost niece’. So, I suspect you also saw her mother? Has Beelzebub’s relative graced our fine county with her ‘Presence’?” I hear my friend cringing over the phone. He was there with me when my father first brought Miranda over, with her ‘you bow to me’ attitude and ridiculous expectations.

Luckily, I was not a kid, and I easily told her off, much to her chagrin.

“Unfortunately, I have also seen the witch. Still the same vitriol out of her. I almost lost it today, I swear! She upset Tabitha, then insulted DJ, whom I had to stop from throttling Miranda, but if the reporters weren’t there, I wouldn’t have.”

“Sounds like she got even worse since going to New York. At least she didn’t come onto you again?”

“I would say no, but interestingly, Dahlia figured out the shrew did not like me being there with her. I think she was trying to goad us into getting into a fight with them so they can show us as unhinged in the media.” I conclude, between the idiotic dialogue earlier and the reporter last week.

“Man, you have your work cut out for you—let me know if I can help with anything—but at least your giiirlfrieeend was there for you,” he snickers again.

“Dude, we are almost in our forties. You are allowed not to sound like you are still in high school!” I make fun of my best friend but looking at the time I must go take care of my brunette. “Right man, got to order some food. Catch you later!”

“Later Romeo, be good.” He finishes with exaggerated kissing sounds, which cause me to shake my head. I may be a dumbass, but Nathan is a childish dumbass.

I open an app and order us some pizzas and get a couple of beers from the fridge, but before going back upstairs, I am awed by a goddess sitting on my sofa.

She is wearing the pinstripe shirt I had on earlier and, from what I can see—only my shirt. I suspect her underwear is somewhere in the garage. I grin faced with such hardship and cross my arms, leaning against the entrance and admiring her some more from the side of the room.

Hair again piled erratically on her head, mouth in a tight line and eyes focusing on the TV screen, as she drives as Luigi in a Mario kart race on my console. She is absolutely adorable, huffing and puffing, trying to overtake Bowser, moving her whole body with the track. She is almost at the last turn, so she accelerates and gets the first position just before the checkered line and gives a little whoop of joy, which makes me want to throw that controller and kiss her.

I put the beers on the walnut table and do just that, ignoring her weak complaints, picking her up easily and putting her across in my lap, my mouth on hers, hungry to taste her. I can’t seem to have enough of holding her little body and touching her. Feeling her tongue against mine and hearing one of her moans vibrating against my chest.

“I guess my fantasy of having a half-naked woman playing on my console can now be ticked off my bucket list,” I add, hugging DJ tighter.

“That is me, fulfilling your deepest wishes,” she quips and puts her arms around my shoulders, and I suspect she doesn’t realize how close she is to the truth. “Is there any food here or are you a ‘strictly beer in the fridge’ kind of guy?”

“Oh, there is some food—though I confess I get meals delivered. Beer, we are stocked, don’t worry, I hand her a bottle. But I ordered some pizzas.”

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