Page 67 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

He looked down at the table. “You don’t need to do that.” He swiped away the stack of saucers and cups and spoons, and sent them flying across the room.

“But I—”

He moved his hands around my waist and picked me up like a rag doll. “I want you, baby,” he rumbled as he set me on the table. My legs were dangling off its side as I was still processing the fact that Ace Windsor had called me “baby.” It was hotter than hot. He nudged my legs open and wedged himself between them. With a firm grip, he pulled my waist against his hips, secure and confident as if he’d done it a million times, letting me feel his erection press against my center.

“Oh,” I practically moaned, “but what about—”

My train of thought was forgotten when he put his hand at the back of my head, nestling it between my curls, and pulling me toward him. He stopped one inch from my lips.

“You want me to kiss you?” he growled. “Say yes.”

“Yes.” It came out as a hoarse whisper.

His lips brushed mine, teasing at first, and a jolt of energy raced up and down my spine. The butterflies in my stomach flapped their wings. They were just as shocked as I was at the unexpected softness of his touch.

But then they took off all at once.

The world spun around me.

My lips met his with an almost feverish urgency. The impact of it parted them just enough for his tongue to slip through. My heart raced, threatening to leap from my chest, and the throbbing sensation between my thighs turned into a scorching ache that I knew only his touch would cure. Our tongues intertwined like sparring fighters, each trying to take in more of the other. His hand grabbed one of mine and placed it on his chest. I could feel his pulse growing faster.

“You feel this? You feel what you do to me?” he murmured, only disconnecting his lips from mine for a mere second.

I do, I nodded, unable to speak, his tongue back in my mouth. I kissed him like my life depended on it.

The strong heartbeat under my palm made me melt further into him. I had always imagined that my first kiss with Ace would be magical, but I had no idea how intense it would be. Why did he, of all people, have to be the world’s best kisser? His lips tasted of black coffee, but his familiar piney scent urged me to kiss him more, and I bit his lower lip. In response, his hands ran down my hips and he playfully squeezed my butt. An involuntary squeal escaped my lips.

He released my mouth, growled his appreciation, and tightened his grip around me, pulling me even closer, then ran his hands up my shoulders.

For a moment, he just rested his forehead against mine and stared into my eyes, saying nothing—just looking at me with his intense feverish gaze. We stayed like that for long breathtaking moments. His blue eyes reminded me of the cold bite of winter mornings, the kind before the first snow falls, and the icicles that hang from tree branches when the snow starts melting again.

“Ace—” I started.

“No. Hush.” He pressed his lips against mine before I could finish my sentence, making me forget any protests I might have possibly had. He brushed the tip of his tongue against mine, over and over, and I could feel another smile forming on his face.

Why was he smiling?

He released my mouth, pulling away just enough to speak. “Tell me what you wrote in Mikey’s card,” he mischievously said.

“Ehhh…I don’t remember.” I tried to kiss him again, but he playfully jerked his head away.

“No, youdo,” he replied. “Tell me. I’m curious.”

“It’s really dumb and embarrassing.”

“Even better. Tell me.”

“Only if you promise not to laugh.”

“Just tell me.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, trying one last time to kiss him against his will before yielding. “It said, ‘Roses are red, violets are blue. You are my Squirtle, and I’m your Pikachu.’”

He snorted, turning his face away from me, placing a hand over his mouth. He did it so I wouldn’t see how hard he was laughing. “That’s…beautiful,” he replied, chuckling, turning back to me. I gave him a death stare. He was still laughing.

“I liked Pokémon a lot back then.”

He gently brushed his lips against mine. “You’re cute. Kinda nerdy, but cute. Seriously.” He kissed me. His lips felt like fire against my own. “Can I be your Squirtle instead?”

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