Mr. Hotshot CEO Read online

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  Chapter 15

  Courtney

  Julian begins to undress me. He takes his time with the buttons on the shirt, as though each one must be undone just so. Once he’s slid the last button through the hole, he parts the sides of the shirt and looks at me reverently. Then he bends down and kisses my nipples as though they’re in need of worshipping.

  “If you don’t like something, tell me,” he says. “Or if you really like something, feel free to tell me that, too.”

  We’re supposed to be having a fling. In my mind, a fling conjures up images of a rough fuck against the door or over the desk—we could have done that if I’d made a move when we were in his home office yesterday.

  But I have to learn about sex all over again, and I don’t think I could manage dirty and rough, not yet.

  I also think I can count on him to give me exactly what I need.

  He lifts up my back so he can remove the shirt, then lays me back down on the bed. I am naked now, except for my underwear, and he smiles as his gaze slides over my body. He runs his finger up my leg to my thigh and touches my wetness through my panties.

  “I’ll take care of that for you tonight,” he murmurs.

  He sits up and shucks off his shirt, followed by his boxers.

  No woman would be disappointed with the way Julian looks when he’s naked. He’s solid and muscled with a light dusting of dark hair on his chest. Although I had a pretty good idea of what he would look like without clothes—I’d spent an awful lot of time thinking about it, in fact—it’s not the same as the real thing.

  He smiles when he sees me checking him out, my gaze lingering on his cock. I’m a little self-conscious about being almost naked, but he isn’t, not at all.

  He crawls on top of me and drops his forehead to mine as he slips his hand inside my underwear. He runs his hand over my slit, which is enough to make me gasp. Gently, he pushes the tip of his finger inside me, and I gasp again.

  “Okay?” he asks.

  I nod sharply.

  He explores me with his hand, sliding his fingers through my folds, touching my clit with his thumb, pushing one, then two fingers inside me. Learning how I respond.

  It’s almost unbearably intimate.

  I am reminded of why I haven’t had sex in more than three years; it’s because of this intimacy. But I craved it, and I couldn’t deny myself this pleasure forever.

  I tell myself it’ll be okay. I will be okay.

  He brushes his lips over mine and kisses me as he continues to finger me. His kiss is devastating in its tenderness, and then he increases the pressure gradually until it’s a desperate, open-mouthed kiss.

  I make Julian Fong desperate.

  He slides off my underwear and continues to touch me with nothing between us, his skin on mine. Tentatively, I wrap my hand around his erection and move up and down. He hisses out a breath. Enjoying his reaction, I use a bit more pressure and do it again.

  “Stop.” He struggles to get the word out. “I won’t last. It’s been a while for me, too.”

  “How long?”

  “Eight months.”

  “Surely that wasn’t due to lack of opportunities. Not when you look like this.”

  The thought of him being with someone else shouldn’t bother me. This is just a fling, and he’s a thirty-five-year-old man—I know there have been many others.

  But the thought of him being so close to another woman makes me ache.

  “I guess...I was waiting for you,” he murmurs, and my chest aches in a completely different way.

  He removes his fingers from inside me and runs them over my stomach, to my breast. They’re wet from my moisture. He rests his chest on top of mine, and I feel so connected to him.

  “I missed this,” I say, pushing a hand through his short hair. “I missed this so much.”

  “You shouldn’t deprive yourself. In fact, I won’t allow it.”

  “You won’t?”

  “No. You should be in my bed as much as possible.”

  He rocks his hips against mine, his erection pressing between my legs, and I moan from the contact there and everywhere else.

  “Didn’t I tell you,” he says, “the bedroom is the one place where I already know how to have fun?”

  He slides down the bed until his head is between my legs. One thing I remember, from my long-ago sexual experience, is that I love being licked and touched at the same time. But I don’t have to tell him. Two fingers penetrate me before his tongue circles my clit.

  It’s too much, but at the same time, it’s not enough.

  He licks me skillfully and slides his fingers in and out, and I’m spiraling toward a peak so much higher than what I can reach by myself. I’m almost there, almost there...

  I cry out and shake uncontrollably. He continues to lick me through my climax, gradually slowing down until I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  When I’m alone, one is always enough. But with him, it’s just the beginning.

  He kisses his way up my body, over my stomach, taking my left nipple into his mouth and then my right, until he gets to my mouth.

  “You’re perfect,” he says simply.

  My body tingles with anticipation as he reaches inside the bedside table and produces a condom. He sits up to roll it on.

  “How would you like it?” he asks. “Do you want to be on top?”

  I shake my head. I don’t want to be the one in control of the rhythm. I want to surrender to whatever he wants to give me.

  “You on top,” I say.

  He settles himself above me and rubs his sheathed cock over my folds. When he starts to push inside, I inhale sharply. It’s been a while, and he’s thicker than the men I’ve been with before.

  “It’s okay,” he says. “I know you can take me.”

  He pushes the rest of the way inside but doesn’t start thrusting yet. Instead, he keeps his hips still while he kisses my neck and shoulders. I’m not used to having something so large inside me but, God, it feels good. It feels right.

  Slowly, he starts to move, and I wrap my legs around his waist and tighten my hold on him. Julian will keep me safe.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

  We move together at a slow but steady pace, and each time he pushes inside me, it feels like he’s making me whole. I wrap my arms around his powerful back muscles and keep his skin pressed against mine.

  “You feel amazing,” he says with wonder.

  “You’re amazing, too,” I whisper.

  Nothing can compare to this.

  How did I go without it for so long?

  He picks up his pace, and I start climbing toward another orgasm. His cock inside me—that’s all I need to come. I tip over the edge and cry out. “Oh, oh, oh.”

  Julian is right behind me, groaning as he reaches his climax.

  As I come down from the height of my pleasure, I feel like I’m falling. He pulls out of me, but he’s still got me, holding me close and burying his face in my shoulder.

  A few minutes later, he goes to the washroom and disposes of the condom, but then he’s next to me, pulling me against him, both of us still slick with sweat, both of us still naked.

  I feel giddy and my body is mush. “We should do that again sometime.”

  He chuckles in my ear. “We will.” He brushes my hair back and presses a kiss behind my ear. “If there’s anything you want, you just tell me. If you want to scream, please feel free to do so.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t hold myself back with you.” I mean for it to sound playful, but my tone isn’t right—it sounds like it’s imbued with deeper meaning.

  He strokes my hair. “I hope you’re not planning to return to your room now.”

  “Of course not. I hope you’re not planning to pull out that stupid report you were looking at yesterday.”

  He laughs. “I’ll wait until you fall asleep before I start working.”
r />   I swat him.

  His lips slide to my neck and he kisses me before saying, “I’m at your service whenever you want. Feel free to wake me up if you need me.”

  And then he falls asleep.

  Chapter 16

  Julian

  Friday morning, I wake up with Courtney in my bed for the second day in a row.

  We’ve spent most of the past thirty-six hours naked, aside from when she was at work yesterday. Those nine hours seemed interminable. All day, I could think of nothing but what I would do to her when she got home, and when she finally returned, we practically attacked each other in the front hall, then had sex on the couch.

  And then we had sex in the shower.

  And then we ate dinner because sex marathons make a person hungry.

  It’s been a very good thirty-six hours, I must say.

  “Good morning,” she says groggily. “Do I really have to go to the lab today?”

  “You mumbled something about an important meeting at ten o’clock, so, yes, I think you do. But there’s no reason you need to go to work until then, is there?”

  She giggles. “You’re such a bad influence.”

  “Me?” I pretend to be horrified. “A bad influence? Surely you’re joking.”

  I roll on top of her and start kissing my way down her body.

  By the time she leaves for work at nine thirty, she’s had three orgasms and I’m feeling rather pleased with myself.

  I head up to the rooftop patio with a book, and because it’s a warm summer’s day—and because I’ve become very bad at wearing clothes in the past thirty-six hours—I take off my shirt.

  Before I crack open the novel, I spend ten minutes looking at the Toronto skyline. I liked the view when I first looked at this place three years ago, but it didn’t take me long to get accustomed to it. Now, thanks to Courtney, I feel like I’m seeing everything with fresh eyes. Admiring the view I’ve seen so many times before, appreciating the luxury of having a rooftop patio all to myself.

  I read a couple chapters, although I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

  I shouldn’t be tired. It’s still morning and I got at least seven hours of sleep last night, but it’s just so peaceful up here above the city. There’s a light breeze and the lake glitters in the distance...

  I put down my book and close my eyes.

  * * *

  “Is he asleep? But it’s eleven o’clock in the morning. He can’t be asleep. In a lounge chair. On his patio. It’s just not possible.”

  “I said you wouldn’t believe your eyes, didn’t I?”

  “You did. And I was picturing something...well, to be honest, I pictured something that was wearing a shirt.”

  Dear God, my brothers are here, ruining my peace. Elena must have let them in while I was getting reacquainted with naptime, something I haven’t done in decades. According to my mother, I stopped napping when I was six months old. Why do my brothers have to—

  Wait a second.

  Brothers. Plural. I heard both of them.

  I open my eyes. Cedric is peering at me as though I’m an exotic bird he’s never encountered before.

  “Cedric!” I say, leaping to my feet. “You’re back in Toronto. Since when?”

  “Since yesterday.”

  I give him a hug.

  Vince and Cedric give each other a look.

  “What?” I say. “What have I done this time?”

  “That was an uncharacteristically enthusiastic greeting,” Cedric says.

  “I haven’t seen you since Christmas. Of course I gave you an enthusiastic greeting. Where have you been?”

  Cedric and Vince glance at each other again.

  “Well, that answers my question about how things are going with Courtney.” Vince slaps me on the shoulder. “You’re getting laid now, aren’t you?”

  I did not realize I was so transparent.

  “There’s a woman?” Cedric asks.

  “There is,” Vince says. “He’s very clear that she’s not his girlfriend, but they’re living together, so...”

  “She’s helping me learn to enjoy life.” I gesture to the umbrella above me and the book on the table. “I’m paying her five thousand dollars to teach me to enjoy the two-week vacation that my family forced me to take.”

  “Ah. You’re not willingly taking a holiday. I should have known.”

  Well, I guess “forced” isn’t quite the right word. I would have gone back to work already if I hadn’t realized they had a point. I don’t let my family boss me around that much.

  The break has been good for me, though.

  “He does seem to be making the most of it,” Vince says.

  “He does,” Cedric agrees.

  I glare at them. “Will you stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

  “Fine, fine.” Apparently deciding I’ve spoiled his fun, Vince heads downstairs, leaving me and Cedric alone.

  “Where did you go?” I ask.

  “Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, China, Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji.”

  “Have a good time?”

  “I did, but...”

  “You’re still not writing?”

  “I’m writing,” he says. “Sort of. I’ve started half a dozen projects, but I never get beyond the third chapter. Everything I write is complete shit.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “No, really.”

  “Aren’t first drafts supposed to be shitty?”

  “Not this shitty.” He runs a hand through his hair.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  He sighs. “I don’t know, but let’s not talk about me. You’re the one who’s sun tanning in the middle of a work day.”

  “You’re the one who spent eight months traveling around the world. Surely you have stories to tell me.”

  But I can see he doesn’t want to do that.

  Vince bounds up the stairs. “Yep, you’re definitely sleeping with Courtney. I went to your bedroom for a little reconnaissance work, and I saw her suitcase, as well as a strip of condoms on your bedside table. Not inside. On top.”

  I glare at him. “Stop going through my stuff.”

  “I didn’t have to go through anything. I observed it all from the doorway.”

  I give him the middle finger.

  “On a scale of one to ten,” Vince says, “how spectacular is the sex?”

  “None of your business,” I snap.

  “Hmm.” Vince strokes his chin. “Cedric, do you think that’s a ten? Or maybe an eleven?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.

  “You’re starting to sound like your usual self.” Cedric pats me on the back. “I was a little worried I’d returned to an alternate universe. When do I get to meet this woman?”

  “She met Mom and Po Po on Monday,” Vince says. “She returned from work at four o’clock. So, if we stick around for another five hours...”

  “Absolutely not,” I say. “No way are you two sticking around that long. I can’t handle it. Plus, Courtney’s working until six since she didn’t get in until ten this morning.”

  “And why would that be?” Vince smirks. “Any particular reason she was late getting to work, lover boy?”

  An image of her naked body arched across my bed immediately comes to mind.

  I turn to Cedric. “Actually, you’re welcome to stick around and have a beer. It’s been a while. But I can’t handle any more of Vince. He’s already been here several times this week. In fact, he tried to drag me to an orgy last Friday.”

  Cedric shakes his head. “I won’t last until four o’clock. I’m pretty jetlagged. I’ll see you again sometime next week, okay?”

  I admit, I’m a touch disappointed he’s leaving so soon.

  “Oh!” Vince says. “I almost forgot the other thing I noticed in your bedroom. Joey the Phallic Cactus now has a prime seat by your window. How long has he been there?”

  “A phallic cactus,” Cedric says. “Is this
a cactus that looks like a dick or a strange term for a studded dildo?”

  “Joey is a real cactus,” Vince says. “Lots of potential for symbolism, don’t you think? You could put a phallic cactus in your next book and give me credit for the idea. Ooh! Maybe the phallic cactus could start talking. How about that?”

  “Your ideas are crap,” Cedric mutters, and I sympathize with him. “How many times have I told you that?

  “Two dozen, perhaps?” Vince says cheerfully. “I’ve lost count. Anyway, you’re jetlagged, and I bet Julian wants to fantasize about his new girlfriend while he’s sun tanning. As for me, there’s always hookers and blow, even at eleven in the morning.” He gives me a mock salute before heading downstairs, Cedric behind him.

  I sit back down and massage my temples.

  As I’m picking up my novel, I realize I didn’t correct Vince when he referred to Courtney as my girlfriend.

  Chapter 17

  Courtney

  On Fridays I have lunch with Bethany, a post doc in the lab next to mine. We either go out for sushi or banh mi. Today we’re having the latter.

  “How’s your son?” I ask as we walk to the restaurant.

  Bethany has a two-year-old who seems allergic to the idea of sitting still for more than two seconds.

  “I got him to eat broccoli last night,” she says. “It’s a miracle. Of course, it was in between running around with a box on his head and dumping Duplo all over the floor.”

  Now that I’m in my thirties, most people my age are settling down and having kids, and they often aren’t available to go out on Friday and Saturday nights. Though I’m happy to go to their houses and hang out with their kids and try not to swear, it’s not the same as when I was younger. It’s harder to avoid spending the weekend alone, something which isn’t great for my mental health.

  But this weekend and next weekend, I have Julian.

  Bethany and I reach the banh mi place on Yonge and place our orders. Pork belly for me, as always. We’re lucky to get a seat by the window, but before Bethany unwraps her sandwich, she pulls her blonde hair back in a ponytail and looks at me curiously.