Mr. CEO(17)

Once I’m sure she’s not coming back, I move from the bed and walk straight to the desk to see what the hell she touched. A sticky note is affixed to the top of my laptop.

Sorry I slipped out, I had to go. Thank you for last night.

I huff a humorless laugh and run my finger along the feminine script. She’s a runner, but I already knew that. I wasn’t expecting this; it doesn’t change anything though.

A wicked smile turns my lips up. She’s going to be shocked on Monday. More than that, pissed.

I’m looking forward to the fight though. I know there will be one, and the thought makes my dick twitch. I look back to the empty bed and rumpled sheets. If she were here now, I’d take her again.

I’d make sure her sweet cunt was so f*cking raw tomorrow she thought of me every time she sat down. It’s a tight fit with her, so hopefully I left her so f*cking sore it lasts until Monday.

My smile fades, and I toss the note to the desk. She’s not here, and she’s not mine yet.

But she will be.

I walk to the bathroom, stretching and remembering how good she felt beneath me. She was everything I wanted. I flick the light on and dig in the travel case on the counter.

It’s only a matter of time before I have her again. Next time, she won’t slip out in the middle of the night.

I look down at the pill case as I pop a tab open, revealing the brightly colored pills and hate that I have to take them. I hate it all. I hate myself more.

I’ve set the pieces in play for her downfall. All because I selfishly want her.

I take three pills and swallow them, not bothering with water to wash it down.

I toss the case on the bathroom counter and walk to my briefs on the floor of the bedroom, carelessly putting them on before sitting back at the desk in the room and opening my laptop.

It’s nearly 4 a.m., but there’s work to do, and I know I won’t be sleeping tonight. I’m sure there are at least a few dozen emails that require my immediate attention. My assistant will have a list for me in only two hours. I should finalize the other business deal I came here for, although I’m not sure I’m interested if they don’t come down in price and agree to the last two terms.

I sigh heavily and run my hands through my hair. It’s just another day. They’ll bend to what I want, or I’ll simply walk away. That’s how it works in my line of business. And they know it.

As soon as the screen comes to life, her picture stares back at me. I never should have touched her. I’m a bastard for what I’m doing.

My heart clenches slightly, a feeling I’m not used to. I start to feel regret, but she loved every second of it. I made her come alive beneath me. I saw how she became paralyzed with pleasure under me. I can give her that. I can give her the escape she desperately needs.

She’s running away from her past more than she's running toward me. This will help her.

Even as I try to justify it, I know there’s no good reason I should continue this. I know this is wrong. I don’t give a f*ck though.

I still want her. And I’m not going to take no for an answer. Nothing is going to keep me from having her.





Chapter 10





Charlotte





I wince as I set my suitcase down in the living room of my apartment.

I’m still hurting from Logan. It’s such a good hurt though. One I’ve never felt before.

My sore * clenches with desire at the thought of the previous night. The way Logan f*cked me has me going through all sorts of unwanted emotions all morning. I crave the feeling of my body aching, but it was a one-time thing. Seriously, he’s a master in bed--a f*cking sex god. I can’t help that I want more. Ian has never been that hungry for my body, nor attentive to my needs.

Selfish bastard. Neither has anyone else I’ve ever been with.

As I stand up straight, a feeling of guilt washes over me. I’ve been running from the feeling all morning, but now it’s finally caught up with me.

Logan gave me the best sex of my life, I tell myself, and I repaid him by leaving him with just a note.

I’m not sure why I care so much. I feel horrible. Like I’ve committed some awful crime. Logan most likely doesn’t give a shit. After all, it was just a one-night stand. And I’m sure he gets more * than a cat catcher. We'll never see each other again, anyway.

I set my coat down and begin unpacking when I notice a box sitting beside the couch. It’s Ian’s, and it’s sitting exactly where it was when I left. I glare at it, anger knotting my stomach.

“I told him his shit better be gone when I got back,” I mutter angrily. “Figures it’s still here.”

I feel like going over and kicking it, and then stomping it with all the rage I have pent up inside. I resist the urge. It won’t do me any good. What I need to find out is if he’s been here or not. He could just be f*cking with me, trying to piss me off.

I walk into the kitchen and see that his work keys are gone. They were here when I left, so it means he came and got them, but left his box of shit.

I’m quick to grab my cell and send him a text.

You left a box of your shit here. Can you come get it, please?

I want to add on ‘*’ at the end of the message, but I exercise immense restraint and just press send. I stare at the screen and wait for a response before adding: