“But”—I draw out the word, smiling back at him—“Warren and Baron is a well-established, traditional company. They do well with established businesses not looking for or needing expansion into other avenues. They deal more with referral advertising. Honestly, I’m not sure why Moore’s hired them to begin with—they don’t have any real retail background. And I’m not sure how well they’ll play with the new team in town.” I gesture to myself. Unintentionally, my fingers graze across the skin below my collarbone. Chase’s eyes follow the movement, his gaze lingering.
In that moment, the emptiness of the restaurant surrounds us, the silence once more stringing out the tension that has been building since our first hello.
“I don’t know, Campbell,” he says, his sex operator voice going full-tilt, “I think you underestimate your appeal.” He swallows, and my mouth parts as I watch his Adam’s apple bob above that maddening hollow at the base of his throat. “I knowI’dwant to play with you.” He raises his gaze. For once, his full lips aren’t pulled back in a smile. Instead, his face is set, and his eyes penetrate mine with a deep intensity that has my thighs shifting on my chair.
What ishappening?
He leans forward. “I swear I’d sell my shares just to know what you’re thinking right now.”
“You’d make a killing as a phone sex operator.”Oh my God. Kill me now.
He tilts his head back and laughs, his neck exposed. The sight has me pushing my embarrassment aside and licking my lips, all thoughts of professionalism and self-preservation gone as my mind envisions my tongue gliding along his throat.
“Funny, I could say the same thing about you and your sexy Southern drawl.”
His words shock me enough that I blurt, “We’d have great phone sex.”
The intensity is back when he reaches over and trails one finger across my brow and down my cheek. “Oh, Campbell. We’d have great sex, period.”
Chase
Two birds,one stone, I thought when setting up this work dinner. See how the new social media plan was shaping up, spend more time with the intriguing Ms. King.
I hadn’t thought that the one stone would turn to two, those being my balls, drawn up tight under my massive hard-on. But that’s exactly what’s happened tonight.
It all started in the hotel lobby, where I’d been waiting to pick her up. The elevator doors opened, and Campbell stepped out wearing that blue dress.
Asymmetrical, or something. That’s what Susan said about the dress. At the time I didn’t pay much attention. Occupied with sending someone down to bring up a selection of shoes for Campbell, I missed her trying it on. Now I’m thinking that the way the dress’s hemline starts right below one knee and travels up and across to her other leg mid-thigh is one of the five things I’m most thankful for at the moment.
One through four being the tabletop that hides my dick’s perpetual salute to all things asymmetrical.
I probably would’ve been able to control little Chase (although between you and me, there is nothing little about him, wink wink), seeing as the tabletop also hid Campbell’s sinful legs, freckled from the Texas sun and just as shapely as any Victoria’s Secret model’s.
But then she had to speak, and damn if her mind isn’t twice as hot as her body.
I’ve had glimpses of it throughout our time together. A comment here, a perceptive remark there. Even how she handled herself in front of my jerk father. Campbell isn’t one to sit back and let things happen. She saw potential in Alice and snapped her up. She realized Stan was a dick and called him on it. And tonight, she was in full business mode, leading her marketing team while getting me up to speed on the on-point social media strategy they’ve built in the limited time they’ve been here and the suggestion for a spokesperson. Someone to direct an already established fan base Moore’s way.
My dick and I are seriously impressed.
I told myself to keep her talking business. That I could keep it professional. That I wouldn’t cross the line. I reluctantly thought of Thomas. Stan and his threats against Liz.
Normally, the echo of Stan’s voice in my head would have my Superman hard-on softer than Mike the Sphynx’s hairless ball sack. But not tonight.
It’s like Campbell King is its freaking kryptonite.
Because then she mentioned phone sex. And that was after I caught her humming “All Shook Up” again.
“Come home with me, Campbell.” The command bursts from my subconscious, damn the consequences.
She licks her lips again, and I’m so sure she’s going to say yes my dick is near vibrating in anticipation.
“I…” She blinks hard, then straightens in her seat. “No. I—I’m sorry, but I…” She clears her throat and reaches for her purse that’s hanging on the arm of her chair. “Just no.” Slowly, she stands, and I follow her up, even though it’s going to be painfully obvious how much I wanted her answer to be yes. I grab a napkin on my way up, holding it strategically so as to save face.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Frustrated at myself, I run my hand through my hair with my free hand. “I thought this wasn’t one-sided. I mean, ever since you burned my chest with coffee—”
“You turned around too fast!”
I laugh. “Okay, so ever since I turned around too fast and you burned my chest with coffee…”
