Getting Dirty with the CEO Read online

  Instinctively, he tightened his hold on her hips, adjusting her body so she could feel his erection against her stomach. Her eyes fluttered closed as she lowered her head. “Yes,” she moaned against his neck, and then she grabbed his ass and pulled him closer, grinding herself against him. He mentally cursed the elevator that would take them to the hotel’s fourth floor. The mechanical cock blocker ascended at a leisurely place, its cables creaking and rumbling, and Daniel wondered if he and Mimi would be its last riders. Ever.

  Mimi didn’t seem concerned about impending death as she escalated her exploration of his body. She slipped her hand between them and coasted her fingers over his crotch. Every muscle in his body reacted, tightening in anticipation of getting the same attention. His mind was already steps ahead of the present, picturing the moment when he would plunge into her, and he mimicked the motion by rocking his pelvis against her. Now he finally understood the appeal of sex in public places.

  “Kiss me,” she said in a breathy voice as she continued to stroke him through his slacks.

  A shudder ran through him as his mouth brushed over hers. Once. Twice. Unreal. Her lips were softer than he’d imagined. Foreign, too, because nothing on his own body possessed that smooth texture. Once his tongue found hers, a cascade of frenzied movements followed. The kiss couldn’t have been less choreographed. It was messy and all-consuming, more about getting all of their senses involved than about demonstrating their skill in this basic mating ritual. Finesse would come later. For now, they devoured each other.

  His mouth never leaving hers, he skated his hands over her breasts, stopping at the hard peaks and rubbing them in slow circles. In answer, she moaned her approval and squeezed his erection. She established a rhythm with her hands: fast, fast, slow, fast, fast, slow. He deepened the kiss, hoping to interrupt her patterned assault. He’d come in his pants if she did that for more than a few seconds.

  Finally, he drew back, inhaling much-needed air. When his breathing had slowed, he caressed the sides of her face. A dusting of freckles dotted the apples of her cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” he told her, his mouth inches from hers.

  Mimi’s eyes clouded over, not with passion but with boredom. “You don’t have to whisper sweet nothings to me, Daniel. That’s not what this is about.”

  She’d delivered the pronouncement in a matter-of-fact tone, her flat affect pulling him out of the moment. The elevator dinged as though she’d orchestrated the sound to serve as the period to her sentence.

  He pulled her through the parted doors and faced her. “What’s this about then?”

  With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she clasped her hands around his neck and drew him to her. “It’s lust. Plain and simple. It won’t change anything.”

  He kept his face relaxed, her words never altering his demeanor, but inside an alarm went off in his brain, warning him to reconsider his plans for the evening. Taking the night to its logical conclusion was exactly what Mimi wanted—shit, he wanted it so badly he was hard as granite—but he also suspected she’d vote him off the island as soon as they were done. Today’s lust. Tomorrow’s old news.

  Which would have been fine if this were anyone but Mimi.

  Mimi engaged him in a way no other woman had. Who else would get him to channel his inner male stripper like he’d done this evening? And he wanted more of her, not less. Their chemistry hadn’t started in the bedroom, and he didn’t want it to end there, either. But convincing her to consider him as more than the guy she loved to hate wouldn’t be easy. To do that, he needed time. As much as it would kill him to walk away, he knew this with certainty: If he wanted her in his bed for more than one night, he had to stay out of her bed today.

  I’m fucking insane.

  He snaked a shaky hand around her and hit the elevator button. “Let’s pick this up again when we’re in the States.”

  With her eyelids at half-mast, she dropped her arms and shook her head in confusion. “You’re leaving?”

  “I am.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “This is payback for the bachelorette party, isn’t it?”

  Standing there with her flushed skin and languid gaze, she unknowingly tempted him to revert to his initial plans, but he held firm. “I’m glad to hear you think my leaving is a punishment of sorts, but no, that’s not the reason. I’m not interested in being your one-night stand, Mimi. I want more, and this just isn’t the right time for what I have in mind.”

  She said nothing for several seconds, her furrowed brow and blinking eyes revealing that he’d stumped her. But she recovered quickly. “That’s too bad, because this is the only time for what I have in mind.”

  If she thought that statement would make him second-guess himself, she was wrong. Now more than ever he knew he’d made the right call. “You don’t mean that, Fireworks.”

  “Oh, Daniel, I assure you I do. What’s your objective, Vargas?”

  He stepped forward and rested his hand on her waist. She didn’t pull back. An excellent sign, indeed. “It’s called delayed gratification.”

  She puffed out a dismissive breath. “Someone’s never heard of self-gratification, I see.”

  “I’ve heard of it, but it’s a poor substitute for what I can give you.”

  The ding of the elevator caused her to jump back. When he stepped on, her eyes turned stormy and she rubbed her temples. “God, you’re the most conceited man I’ve ever met.”

  He pressed the button for the first floor. “And yet you still want me.”

  She dropped her hands to her sides. “That’s it? Seriously?”

  He left her with one word. “Seriously.”

  As the elevator doors closed, she let out a frustrated growl.

  At least now he’d evened the score.

  Mimi: 1. Daniel: 1.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Washington, D.C.

  Four months later

  A charitable bachelor auction? Seriously?

  Mimi Pennington battled the urge to roll her eyes—and lost.

  Her firm’s fiercest competitor claimed to be the premier public relations strategist in the Washington, D.C., area. Judging by the spectacle onstage, however, the company’s creative juices had been sopped by an extra-absorbent paper towel.

  She stood in a corner of the large ballroom, processing the antics. Bachelor Number One, a tall, burly man with a Stetson, strutted across the stage, unbuttoned the jacket of his midnight blue suit, and gyrated his hips. Nope, nope, nope. As if that weren’t bad enough, Mr. Stetson then turned around and lifted his jacket to give the audience a view of his ass. Mimi howled with laughter. Oh, this is too much.

  After she’d regained her composure, she scanned the sea of cream-clothed tables, noting that some of the guests wore wide-eyed expressions. When her best friend, Gracie, had offered her a ticket to this exclusive fund-raising gala, Mimi had snatched it up, recognizing the event as a plum networking opportunity. And because she never missed a chance to promote her services, she’d arranged to put up ten hours of her own consulting time for bidding in the silent auction. So the evening was about making connections and maybe snagging a new client. She hadn’t expected to be entertained, too. Bonus.

  Now that the fund-raising festivities had begun, Mimi made her way across the ballroom and found her and Gracie’s table.

  Gracie jumped up from her chair and hugged her. “Hey, sweetie. Had no idea you were already here.”

  “I’ve been mingling,” she whispered in Gracie’s ear. “These people are dry as fuck. Did someone spike the punch with a sedative?” She pointed at the stage. “Are they not seeing what I’m seeing?”

  Gracie covered her grin, her dark brown eyes laughing for her. “There’s no punch, wise ass. And please be good. I’m trying to raise some money for my charity here.”

  Mimi took the seat to Gracie’s right, her gaze skating over the faces at the table. To her surprise, Gracie’s husband wasn’t one of them. “Where’s Ethan?”

  “He’s traveling
on business this week, so you get me all to yourself.”

  “Lucky me.” Mimi angled her body toward the stage. “So how is this supposed to work?”

  “Each nonprofit gets to put up a bachelor for bidding. The winning bid gets a date with the bachelor, but if the highest bidder wants to pass on the date, she—or he—can choose something else—like golf lessons with a retired PGA golfer. I’m really hoping we can make enough money to meet our renovation budget.” Gracie turned her attention to the stage. “Oh, look, the next bachelor’s up.”

  Mimi followed Gracie’s gaze. A tall, wiry man with dirty blond hair dug his hands in the pants of his tuxedo pants and took center stage. He squinted his eyes against the bright lights that were trained on him, his face otherwise impassive—and very pale. Mimi scooted her chair closer to Gracie and spoke to her in a hushed tone. “Bachelor Number Three looks like he’s going to puke. If that happens, I swear I’m breaking out the popcorn.”

  Gracie hiccupped on a laugh but didn’t turn around.

  “So you’re just going to ignore me, huh?” Mimi asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Killjoy.”

  Gracie turned around and pretended to scratch her nose with her middle finger. As usual, Mimi had brought out the ten-year-old in her best friend. She considered this one of her most noteworthy skills in life.

  The emcee, a sprite of a woman with a saccharine-sweet smile, gave a rundown of Bachelor Number Three’s bid-worthy credentials. “Our next single is here to support Kindred Center, a battered women’s shelter in Southeast D.C.”

  Now that was a cause Mimi could support, even if she wasn’t enamored of the idea of yet another bachelor auction. She glanced at the bidder card assigned to her place setting. Bids started at one thousand dollars. Offering any more than that would mean she’d either be dipping into her personal savings or eating tuna fish and crackers for the remainder of the year. Still, she reached for the card.

  “Tell him to remove his jacket and turn around for us,” a woman yelled from the audience.

  Guests turned their heads and stretched their necks to see who had made the request, some of them no doubt thinking it was crass. Now we’re getting somewhere. Mimi spotted the heckler on the other side of the ballroom. She was hard to miss. The glitter on the woman’s gown served as a beacon under the dim lighting, making her appear as though she were a disco ball come to life—or a finalist in the World Figure Skating Championships.

  “He’s an attorney with Hillman and Greene,” the emcee continued. “Alternatively, he’s offering three hours of trust and estates counseling.”

  Wait. The guy drafts wills for a living? Mimi promptly dropped the bidding card on the table. She could send the shelter a check and avoid a date with him altogether. Definitely a better option.

  Bored with Bachelor Number Three, Mimi turned away from the stage and scanned the room. Perhaps she could chat up an old client of the firm in the interim. A deep chuckle and several giggles snagged her attention and drew her gaze to a table several feet away.

  Ugh. Daniel Vargas.

  Player extraordinaire.

  Man-on-her-shit-list since he’d left her hanging months ago.

  With an arm curled around the chair next to his, he basked in the attention of the females at the table. One particular woman, in an admittedly lovely blue dress, seemed to be vying for a special place among his groupies. Don’t bother, sis. The only person who’s special to Daniel is Daniel.

  She tapped Gracie on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “By the way, who’d you pick as your bachelor?”

  Gracie turned her head to the side and winked. “You’ll see.”

  * * *

  “Bachelor Number Five is here on behalf of Learn to Net, an organization that serves D.C. residents who don’t have Internet service in their homes. LTN provides access to research libraries, online job applications, and tutoring websites, and helps reduce the information gap between lower-income families and more affluent ones.”

  Mimi nearly stumbled out of her chair when she saw Daniel onstage. “You didn’t.”

  “I most certainly did,” Gracie said with a twinkle in her eye.

  Mimi smirked. “I bet he was happy to do it, too.”

  Gracie shook her head. “Actually, he gave a good fight. Said the idea of being onstage, and I quote, ‘parading his wares,’ would make him feel objectified.”

  “Coming from a man who objectifies women, that’s rich. So how’d you get him to cave?”

  Gracie winked. “I played the guilt card. Told him that as the only single male member on the board, it was his duty to help me raise money for LTN. When that didn’t work, I threatened to complain to his parents.”

  “Very professional on your part, sweetie.”

  Gracie gave her a devilish grin. “A family connection has its privileges.”

  “Devious. I’m rubbing off on you. Finally.” She looked up to see Daniel smoothing his hair and brushing off imaginary lint on his shoulders. “A taste of his own medicine would be good for him, I think.”

  Gracie said nothing. Instead, she peered at Mimi like a detective ready to begin her interrogation.

  Mimi fidgeted in her seat. “What?”

  “Why don’t you like him?” Gracie asked.

  Even now Daniel thrived on being in the spotlight. He stood onstage wearing a grin that suggested there was nowhere else he’d prefer to be. “You mean apart from his bloated ego?”

  “Yes, apart from that. He might be a tad too confident, I’ll give you that, but he’s not a bad guy. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you, but this stays between us. No sharing with your hubby. Promise.”

  Gracie frowned at her. “What the hell, Mimi? You’ve been keeping secrets? From me?”

  “Promise,” Mimi repeated in a firm and urgent voice.

  Gracie blew out a breath, her version of a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I promise not to tell Ethan.”

  “Okay. Remember your wedding?”

  A crease appeared between Gracie’s brows. “Um. Of course I remember my wedding.”

  “Daniel and I almost had sex that night.”

  Gracie gaped at her.

  “Close your mouth, Gracie.”

  Gracie pressed her lips together. Then she turned to the stage and watched Daniel as though she’d discovered a scandalous secret about him. After a beat, she said, “What? When? Where? How?”

  “It’s a long story that we probably shouldn’t get into here.”

  Gracie shook her head in confusion. “Okay, okay.”

  “I’ll tell you this, though. The man is hung like a horse.” She whinnied to emphasize her point. “Too bad I didn’t get to ride him.” She pretended to pull on a set of reins and whinnied again.

  Gracie barked out a laugh and covered Mimi’s mouth with her hand. “Be quiet.”

  Mimi swatted Gracie’s hand away. “What? It’s true.”

  “But none of this explains why you’re not a fan.” Gracie narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Did he act like a jerk when you rejected him? Because if he did, I’ll—”

  “He rejected me, Gracie.”

  Gracie tilted her head to the side, her lips pursed. “Excuse me?”

  Mimi couldn’t say the words again; they were entirely accurate and too painful an admission to repeat. “You heard me the first time.”

  “Did he give you a reason?” Gracie asked in a soft voice.

  Uh-oh. She’d heard that voice before, usually when Gracie was in Mimi-handling mode, which meant they’d dissect the incident from all angles before Gracie was prepared to move on. Mimi refused to have that conversation now.

  “Let’s just say the night didn’t turn out the way I’d expected it to and leave it at that, okay? Besides, the Marine I met on my flight to Puerto Rico took the edge off.”

  Gracie nodded. “Okay. But let me just say I’m sorry that happened. And I’ll be sure to knee Daniel in the nuts
for you.”

  Mimi groaned. “No, no. Please don’t do or say anything to him. I don’t want him to think he affected me in any way. I’m only telling you because I need to be able to skewer him in a safe place, and you’re my safe place. The truth is, I wasn’t prepared to go through with it, either. It just irks me that he beat me to the punch.”

  Gracie covered Mimi’s hand with hers. “So no harm then.”

  Mimi nodded. “Right. No harm.”

  Well, maybe just a little. That night in Puerto Rico she’d experienced a different kind of chemistry with Daniel, one that didn’t involve teasing on his part or taunting on hers. Now that she’d gotten a bite-sized sample of what it would be like to have sex with him, her brain didn’t know whether to slap him or order a full-sized meal.

  They’d communicated twice since that fateful night. A few weeks after the wedding, she’d arranged for a leopard print men’s thong to be hand delivered to his office, not as a sign of a truce but to signal that his rejection hadn’t affected her in the least. When he didn’t respond, she’d decided to excise him from her brain—with a scalpel if necessary. But a few weeks later, he sent her a box of pocket-sized vibrators in a dozen different colors. The note inside read, A self-care package to be used until you come to your senses. Fondly, Daniel. He’d underlined the word come.

  He truly was a jerk. But he also had a ridiculously sexy body, bedroom brown eyes, and a manaconda between his legs. Well, hello there. Nice to meet you, Kryptonite.

  The buzz from the audience grew as the emcee completed her rundown of Daniel’s attributes and announced that the bidding would begin. Gracie turned to the stage. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck, sweetie.”

  Mimi wanted to shut down any further musings about her encounters with Daniel, but the man in question—along with his sizable junk—was standing on the stage. This is my life.