Nights with My CEO novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Night One

Night one in suite 1412 ends at dawn with a luggage tag that says Callender Capital.

Suite 1412 had a window as tall as the wall, and Manhattan lay on the other side of it.

I stood with my back against the door while Reed set his room key on a table.

"We don't have to," he said.

"We wrote five rules and that wasn't one of them."

He turned, and I saw him decide to stop being careful.

He crossed the room.

He took my face in both hands, which were warm and large, and kissed me.

I kissed him back so hard we hit the door.

He tasted like tea and mint.

I got my fingers into his hair, short and thick at the back, and pulled his mouth harder against mine.

He made a low sound in his chest that went straight down my spine.

"Jacqueline," he said against my lips.

"Don't talk. Rule two."

"That was about work."

"I'm making an addition."

He laughed, a real laugh, surprised out of him, and I felt it through his whole body.

I pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he let it fall.

I worked at his shirt buttons, and he worked at the zip down the back of my dress, and neither of us was patient.

My dress went to the floor.

His shirt followed.

He was broad and warm, with a scar on his ribs and a freckle on his collarbone.

I put my mouth on the freckle.

His breath went ragged.

"You're very good at this," he said.

"I'm very good at everything. I just wasn't allowed to say it today."

He lifted me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me across the room and set me on the edge of the bed.

He knelt on the carpet in front of me and looked up.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

It was not a question about permission.

It was a man who wanted to hear it.

"Your mouth," I said. "Everywhere. Start at my knee."

He did exactly that.

He kissed up the inside of my thigh slowly, one hand sliding my underwear down, his shoulders pressing my legs wide.

When his tongue found me I gasped so loud it startled me.

He did not stop.

He was slow and then not slow, his tongue flat and warm against my clit.

His fingers slid inside me and curled and found the place that made my hips jerk up off the sheets.

"Reed."

"Mm."

"Right there. Don't you dare move."

He didn't.

He held my hips down with one forearm and kept at it with his mouth until my thighs shook around his head and I was grabbing the duvet in both fists.

I came with his name in my mouth and my heels digging into his back, wave after wave, loud enough that I did not care who heard.

He kept licking me gently through it until I pushed at his shoulder.

He rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning.

I sat up, grabbed his belt, and pulled him down onto the bed with me.

"Your turn," I said.

I undid his trousers and pushed them down.

His cock was thick and hard and heavy in my hand, and he groaned when I closed my fingers around it.

I stroked him slowly, thumb across the wet tip.

"Jacqueline, if you keep doing that."

"I know."

I pushed him onto his back and climbed over him.

I held him steady and sank down on him an inch at a time.

He was big, and I felt every inch.

My body stretched around him until I was seated all the way down, my hands flat on his chest.

His eyes were wide open.

"God," he said. "You feel."

"Quiet."

I started to move.

I rolled my hips, slow, then faster, my knees bracketing his ribs.

He gripped my waist and then my thighs, and then the sheets.

"Let go," I told him. "Touch me."

He put his thumb on my clit and rubbed in small tight circles that made me clench around him.

He swore.

"I want you on top of me," I said. "I want your weight."

He flipped us in one move.

He was over me, pushing into me deep, my legs high around his hips.

I dug my nails into his back and told him harder.

He gave me harder.

The bed hit the wall.

"Fuck," I said. "Fuck, Reed, again."

He groaned against my neck and drove into me, and the pleasure climbed in my belly, tight and bright.

I came a second time with a cry that cracked in half.

He followed me over, shaking, his forehead against mine, saying my name and saying it again.

After, we lay in the dark with the city glowing on the ceiling.

His heart was going hard under my ear.

"Is it always that good for you?" he said.

"I've never done this before," I said.

"Had sex?"

"Had it with someone who wanted to hear me."

He turned his head.

"Then I'm taking the thirty nights seriously," he said.

I fell asleep with his hand on my back.

I woke to grey light and the sound of a shower.

Reed's suitcase lay open on a bench at the foot of the bed.

I rolled over, still warm, still smiling, and my eyes landed on the leather tag looped around its handle.

R. CALLENDER.

CALLENDER CAPITAL, CHICAGO.

I sat up so fast the sheet fell.

Callender.

Callender was the firm that bought mine.

Callender had signed the papers on Friday at noon and owned every desk on our four floors.

The shower shut off.

I looked at the closed bathroom door and understood that the man I had signed a napkin with owned the chair I was about to be fired from.

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