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Unbuttoning the ceo, p.7

Unbuttoning the CEO, page 7

 part  #1 of  The Suits Undone Series


Unbuttoning the CEO

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  Maybe this was a mistake.

  No, no, no. What would be the point of second-guessing herself now? She resolved to enjoy her time with Nic for what it was. Casual. Fun. Playful. He’d claimed he was cocky, right? Time to find out if he was telling the truth.

  * * *

  When they reached his building, Gracie had tied and untied her scarf more than a hundred times. After the change in dinner plans, they hadn’t engaged in any more conversation in the taxi. Nic surveyed the city streets outside his window while she tied and untied her scarf. But she didn’t miss the deep breaths he took, or the way he clenched and unclenched his fists as he gazed at the passing streets.

  Even now, as Nic pulled her through the building’s entrance, they didn’t exchange a single word. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to. Strung tight like a newly tuned violin, she worried she’d snap if he so much as breathed in her direction. Was that the reason for Nic’s silence, too? She glanced at him and noticed what could only be described as raw determination in his stony face. And like any self-respecting woman who hadn’t had sex for months, visions of fantastic orgasms danced in her head.

  The clack of her heels against the polished marble floors prompted her to scan the lobby and take notice of her surroundings. Vintage chairs, and sofas with plush cushions, dotted one side of the space, grouped together to encourage conversation. Museum-quality artwork, reminiscent of the art she’d spent hours appreciating in New York, hung on the walls. And soft music floated in the air, its source undetectable to the human eye. She’d entered another universe. She slowed and tugged on Nic’s hand. “You live here?”

  He stopped and surveyed the lobby, the crease between his brows suggesting he was trying to see the space from her perspective. “I bought this condo from a friend, at a deeply discounted price, believe me. I wouldn’t have purchased it otherwise. All this opulence makes me itchy.”

  “That’s a very nice friend.” She tugged him close and pressed her chest against his. “Man or woman?”

  She was teasing him, but she couldn’t help wondering if she’d overstepped her bounds. What did it matter whether the friend was a man or a woman? She had no right to ask. Then again, if he freaked out about it, she’d know not to ask these kinds of questions, teasing or not.

  He didn’t hesitate to respond. “Man, definitely. It’s a bachelor pad through and through. When we get to my condo, you’ll see what I mean.”

  “The guided tour can wait, don’t you think?”

  His eyes bored into hers. “God, I’m so glad you agree. If you’d wanted a tour first, I would have given you whiplash rushing you though the place.”

  She caressed his cheek, and he squeezed his eyes shut. It was a heady experience, witnessing his response to her touch. Her touch affected him. And the knowledge that it did aroused her in a way she hadn’t expected. “Can we go upstairs now?”

  In answer, he spun around and steered her in the direction of the bank of elevators ahead. The hint of recognition in the doorman’s eyes disappeared when Nic raised his hand in his direction, cutting off whatever words the man was poised to say. “We’re heading up, Sal. No time to talk.” The doorman gave Nic a curt nod in response.

  Nic stepped into the elevator, spun her to face the doors, and then drew her in front of him. When the doors closed, he pressed his lips against her ear. “I want you so fucking bad I can hardly walk.”

  A tingle skittered across her belly and her clitoris throbbed. She rested the back of her head against his chest. What was that sound? A whimper? From her? Gah. Her dignity withered on the floor. Bye, bye, Dignity.

  She held her breath during most of the elevator ride. When it reached his floor, she worried she’d hyperventilate if they didn’t act quickly. Gracie gulped in a breath when the doors opened, relishing the cool air that floated over her face.

  Nic stepped around her and held out his hand. Her hand trembled as she took his. When the elevator doors closed, Nic pulled her to the side of the hall and backed her against the adjacent wall.

  Nic’s green eyes bore into hers. “I can’t wait another second,” he said. His mouth came down on hers in a rush. The butterflies in Gracie’s stomach disappeared, replaced by a slow burn that traveled up and down the length of her body and ultimately settled in her throbbing clit. She didn’t care if it burned, though. She only cared that he’d relieve her of this almost unbearable need to feel him all over her.

  In that moment, Gracie’s desire for him snapped her self-control. This man overwhelmed her senses, made her want to climb his body and burrow into him. And she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. But he was too far away, a problem she had the power to correct. Lacing her fingers, she drew them over his head and around his neck, closing the space between them. He growled at the contact.

  She reveled in his lips as his hands slid to her waist. Then his hands lowered to her sex, and Gracie’s legs failed her. His strong hands held her tighter, helping her stay upright. She began to undulate her hips against his hand, urging him to do more, and he complied without hesitation. He used his fingers to echo her movements, pressing them against her clit through the fabric of her pants. His fingers were strong, sure, working in tandem with the denim to produce the friction her body craved.

  Gracie couldn’t remember wanting anyone this badly. His forearms were damp with sweat, much like hers, a consequence of the body heat trapped between them. And she didn’t care. In fact, she welcomed the possibility that their lovemaking would be wanton and messy. What mattered was the tingle between her legs. The bundle of nerves there pulsed, making it difficult for her to think beyond her need for release, beyond her desire for that most pleasurable sensation to wash over her. If he could produce this level of arousal in her through touch alone, would his cock send her over the edge? She guessed so, but suspecting was not enough. She wanted him inside her, and she prayed he wouldn’t retreat again, because if he did, she’d clobber him.

  * * *

  Ethan moaned, goaded by the pressure of his dick against the zipper of his jeans. Gracie was so responsive she’d made him combustible. When he increased the pressure against her clit and began circling it, she whimpered. He’d unlocked the sweetest sound. Then her hands lowered to his crotch and stroked him, and for a second he threatened to whimper, too.

  It wasn’t enough, would never be enough, but they were in the hall outside his apartment, and this wasn’t the place for what he had in mind. Still, he found it hard to stop touching her, greedy for every possible second of contact with her. He increased the rhythm of his fingers yet again, causing her to drop her head against his chest.

  “Nic, it feels so good,” she said against his ear.

  The statement hit him in his gut—and reminded him that he’d misled her. She wanted to be in Nic’s arms, the laidback computer consultant with a speeding problem. She didn’t want Ethan, CEO of Media Best and man with a troubled past.

  He backed up, needing to separate their bodies so he could think. Her small cry of protest echoed the turmoil in his brain. She reached for him and pulled his torso close to hers. She was fucking amazing. He wanted to spend days in bed with her, with her legs wrapped around his, as he studied her curves and learned what she liked.

  As if sensing his thoughts, she looked up and regarded him with a knowing expression. “You’re thinking too much, Nic. This is exactly what I want. Sex. That’s all. Whatever’s bouncing around in that head of yours, shut it down.”

  The heated gaze in her seductive eyes spun a web around him, ensnaring him. And like easy prey, he accepted his fate. He’d think about the consequences later. “Let me get you inside.”

  She slowly nodded her agreement as he patted his jeans in search of his keys. With one hand, he unlocked the door. With the other hand, he pulled Gracie inside.

  He wanted a bed. They didn’t make it past the foyer.

  There, against the front door, he resumed his thorough exploration of her lips, swirling his tongue wi
th hers and only coming up for air when she pulled his shirt over his head. Gracie didn’t wait for him to reciprocate. She whipped her own blouse above her head and moved her fingers over the cups of her lace bra. Ethan swallowed. This was going to be so fucking good.

  His hands skated over both breasts, and her brown nipples puckered. Unable to resist, he rolled her nipples with his fingers and watched them tighten to stiff peaks.

  “Yes, that feels so good,” she said.

  Gracie pressed her palms against the door for support. Worried that she’d slide to the floor, he wedged his thigh between her legs and offered her a makeshift seat. The pressure of her ass against his thigh aroused him. But her ass writhing on his thigh nearly undid him. A tremor ran through his body, a preview of the vibrations that would floor him when he buried his cock in her heat.

  To Ethan’s surprise, Gracie pushed him away.

  “What’s wrong?” he choked out.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I want a chance to explore you. Let’s switch places.”

  All the blood in his body rushed to the massive erection he already sported. Without further prompting, he spun around and leaned against the door. Gracie bent her head and licked the contours of his chest.

  She fell to her knees and placed her hands on his waist. Ethan imagined her plump lips sucking him off, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not yet.

  Ethan dug his fingers in her hair and watched her lick and suck his skin. He gave her a minute. He’d counted. Careful not to hurt her, he wrapped the ends of her hair around his fist and coaxed her to a standing position. “Sorry. If I’m going to have any chance of lasting, we’re going to have to move on.”

  Gracie sighed. “If we must.” She pouted, but her hands shook as she trailed them up his thighs and rose to her full height. If he hadn’t been paying such close attention to her responses, he would have missed the slight exhale of breath, and the shakiness of her laughter. He abhorred the possibility that she was nervous around him, but asking her about it would only make things worse.

  “Believe me, we must,” he said.

  Impatient to see all of her, he dropped to his knees, unzipped her jeans, and unfastened the top button. He kissed her stomach, licking her belly button as he drew her closer to him. His finger traced the smooth skin of her belly, and then he tugged her jeans down her thighs. She squeezed his shoulders, resting her hands against them for purchase as he helped her step out of her jeans. Like a gift he didn’t deserve, she stood there in lace panties and high-heeled shoes. “I’m shredded,” he said as he rose and studied her. “I could come from this image alone.”

  She gifted him with a sultry smile. “Or you could come inside me.”

  “Yeah. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” He pulled her toward him, but she backed away, bumping her ass on the entry table. He moved toward her as he unbuttoned his jeans. “Get on the table,” he said.

  Gracie looked behind her. “Doesn’t look comfortable.”

  “Or we could take sixty seconds to walk to my bedroom.”

  In answer, she stood on her toes and shimmied backward onto the table, stretching her arms out to him. He moved into her embrace and slipped his fingers through the waistband of her panties and tugged. She gasped as he ripped the panties from her body. “You know what’s going to unglue me?” he asked.


  “The thought of you going anywhere without these,” he said as he lifted her panties in front of him. Then he placed them in one of his back pockets and reached for a condom inside the other. As he did so, he searched her face, gauging whether she was as aroused as he was. She panted. She squirmed. Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip. And the scent of her arousal wafted through the air. No question, they were on the same page.

  Ethan couldn’t prolong this further. He lowered his jeans to his thighs, rolled the condom on, and lifted Gracie’s legs as he centered his cock at her entrance.

  Gracie nudged her ass closer to the table’s edge, spread her legs farther, and pressed her hands on his shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. Then he entered her, and her breath hitched. “Unreal,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “Ready for more?”

  Her eyes grew wide. Then she slid her arms around his waist and grabbed his ass, helping him enter her to the hilt.

  “Fuck, woman. You’re impatient,” he said as he began to thrust into her.

  Her head came down on his shoulder. “Don’t stop. Please.”

  “More? Harder?”

  She nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, yes, please.”

  He increased the tempo of his stroke, gritting his teeth against the torturous sensation when the ridges of his cock pressed against her walls. Then he stopped. “Give me a second,” he said.

  Gracie’s head lifted from his shoulders. “That’s cruel,” she said.

  “It would be cruel if I came too fast. Okay. I’m good.”

  “Carry on, then,” she said. The laughter in her voice touched him, made him want her even more—and he hadn’t thought that would be possible.

  He nipped her neck and began to stroke her in earnest. Their moans mingled in the air, punctuated by a slide of skin here and a sucking noise there. Her breasts bounced in front of him, and Ethan knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He’d make up for this later. He covered her mouth with his, wanting them connected in as many ways as possible.

  “Moan for me, baby,” he said. “Let me know you’re loving this just as much as I am. Breathe it into me.” And she did what he asked of her. A low-pitched moan fell from her lips, and a tremor skated up Ethan’s spine. “I am going to come so fucking hard, Gracie. So. Fucking. Hard.”

  “Nic,” she panted.

  No, not Nic. Ethan, dammit.

  “Nic,” she said. Her voice rose and fell, as though she were rolling his name on her tongue, savoring him, savoring this. He hated that name. But he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

  Her moans grew, rising above the other sounds in the hall—the intermittent bang of the table against the wall, the rustle of his jeans, and the clank of his belt, which still hung from the jeans scrunched at his thighs. “Oh, shit, Gracie. I’m going to come. C’mon, baby. I’m waiting.”

  Gracie banged her hand against the table. “Oh, yes, Nic. Yes, that’s it.” Then she began to shake, the muscles in her legs tightening around his waist. He couldn’t bear it any longer and released a hoarse cry, letting the streak of lighting pulse through him. Then her orgasm chased his as she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed his name once more.

  The pleasurable tingle in his body fled in that instant, and a frisson of dread skated up his spine in its stead. But he summoned the strength to shake it off. This relationship was due to expire in less than four months. Her rule. She wanted the comfort of a man in her bed, but she had no room for one in her life. Now that he thought about it, they were more alike than he’d first realized. So he’d give in to the pleasure they both craved, and then he’d move on. Guilt had no place in the equation.

  He kissed her neck and breathed in her scent. The familiar stirring in his cock surprised him. So soon? No freaking way. “Hang on, I’m going to carry you to the bedroom.”

  She pushed against him. “Excuse me?”

  He caressed her cheek. “I said I’m carrying you to the bedroom. My home, my rules.”

  Her glazed expression cleared. “I’ll let that slide, but only because you just gave me one of the best orgasms of my life.”

  Her lighthearted comment gutted him, but he refused to show it. Of course she’d had other orgasms, he told himself. She’d never suggested she was a virgin, nor did he want her to be one. Still, imagining her with other men fucked with his head. His sister’s warning immediately came to mind, reminding him that he had to protect himself, too.

  He lifted her in his arms and pressed his chest against hers. “Let’s see if I can clinch the title as best orgasm giver of them all. When I’m done, any man after me wi
ll pale in comparison.”

  And when her mouth soured in response, he pretended not to see it.


  Gracie rested her hands on her chin and stared out her office window. Images of her weekend escapade with Nic bombarded her brain. What she wouldn’t do for another round or two—or three, really. She wriggled in her chair, adjusting her body in a fruitless effort to dampen her arousal.

  Over the course of the weekend, she’d discovered Nic possessed more than enough stamina for them both. And she’d learned the extent of her flexibility, contorting her body like she’d been auditioning for a stint with Cirque du Soleil.

  There’d been one tense moment, when she’d been tempted to squeeze his balls for a comment about the men who would come after him, but otherwise she’d gotten exactly what she’d hoped for.

  Now came the hard part. How would she manage to see him in the office and pretend they hadn’t been screwing the light fantastic all weekend? Would the Gray Ladies suspect that she and Nic had moved beyond friendship? If Calliope sensed something between them, she’d pounce on Gracie and force her to confess. The woman was relentless, and she had a nose that could sniff out all manner of intrigue.

  Gracie knew she couldn’t hide in her office forever. She would have to share the same space with him at some point. But she didn’t relish that fact. Not when she craved his touch. Not when the images of their lovemaking seemed permanently embedded in her mind. He was here. That knowledge alone was enough to make her ache.

  Brenda buzzed her phone, and Gracie hit the speaker button. “Yes, Brenda?”

  “Gracie, there’s a gentleman named Mark Lansing here to see Nic. Says he needs to speak to him about a work issue, but Nic’s running a workshop.” Brenda’s voice lowered to a whisper. “This one’s smokin’, too, Gracie. Looks like an extra from Magic Mike.” Brenda paused. “XXL.”

  Gracie laughed. Brenda’s antics were a welcome distraction. “Be right out, Brenda.”

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