Talking Dirty with the CEO - By Jackie Ashenden Page 0,10

be. Naughtygirl.

She took a breath. “Then what do you like?”

“I like women with long legs that go on forever. In stretchy black dresses. Wearing sheep on their chests.” His gaze never left hers.

Another step closer. “It’s not a sheep. It’s a lamb.”

“Some kind of bovine, then.”

His eyes were so blue, even in the dim light of the street. And he smelled good. And he was warm. Hot. She could feel his heat even from… Good God, she was barely inches away from him now.

“Cows are bovine. Sheep are ovine,” she corrected thickly.

He didn’t move, just let her come close, staring down into her eyes, into her. Looking at her as if she was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. The door to the bar opened behind him and people spilled out onto the street, full of loud laughter and shouting. But he didn’t even turn, all his attention focused on her.

And she soaked it up like a plant starved of sunlight.

“Naughtygirl,” he said. “How far are you planning on taking this naughtiness? Because I have to confess, I want to take you home to find out right now.”

Christie’s breath caught. “You want to take me home?” she repeated. Just to be sure she’d heard him correctly.

He smiled. Again. And she melted. Again. “Yes. I’d like to see if you’re wearing a garter belt along with your Ugg boots.” He took one hand out of his pocket and pushed back an errant curl that had come down from her bun. His fingers brushed the side of her neck and she shivered, sparks scattering all over her skin. “And perhaps explore this chemistry.”

Oh bloody hell. He wanted to take her home.

Christie felt the moment slow and come to a complete stop, the air around them thick. Taut with promise. And she was caught in it like a fly in amber.

She could have this. She could go home with this amazingly sexy bad boy. See where it led. See how far she could go. And why not? Why couldn’t the geek get the hot guy for once?

A hot guy who, for some insane reason, seemed to want her, too.

“Yes,” she heard herself say, without a trace of a stutter. “Yes, I’ll come home with you.”

The look on his face changed, his smile taking her breath away. “I was hoping you’d say that. So what’s your name? Or do I keep using your Naughtygirl handle?”

Definitely she wanted to keep being Naughtygirl. Being Christie seemed kind of lame right at this point in time. And tonight was her night to be naughty. As naughty as she dared. “I prefer the handle, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” His gaze lingered on her mouth. “Every girl should be naughty at least once.”

Exhilaration fizzed in her blood. “What about you? Or should I keep calling you Studman?”

He laughed. “No, please don’t. I’m Joseph.”

“Oh, that’s better than Studman.”

“Anything’s better than Studman.”

“This is true.” She wanted to touch him. Touch him the way he’d touched her. And why shouldn’t she? Naughtygirl wouldn’t hesitate. She reached up and touched his stubble-roughened cheek. “But you kind of do look Studman-like. I think it’s the beard.” His skin felt warm, whiskers rough against her fingers “It’s very…” Her breathing faltered.

Oh God. You’re touching him. Actually touching him.

The look in his eyes blazed. But he didn’t move. “Manly?”

“Yes,” she murmured, unable to take her hand away. “And also quite studly.”

“Studly isn’t a word.”

“It should be.”

At that point her mobile burst into song. A stupid tinny version of “Evil on the Rise” by her favorite metal band, Dead Friends. Great. Talk about a mood killer.

Flushing, Christie dropped her hand and turned away, digging in her bag. “God, sorry,” she muttered, hauling out the phone and glaring at the screen. Then stopped glaring when it turned out to be a text from Marisa.

I met a friend who trapped me with a cosmopolitan. Please tell me you’re okay.

“I, um, have to answer this,” she said and quickly typed back a response.

Am fine. Have located Studman. All okay. We’re going out on a date. I’ll text you if I need you.

Then she switched her phone to mute and shoved it right down into the bottom of her bag.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

…

Joseph’s apartment was in one of the ridiculously expensive buildings that lined Auckland’s harbor, only a brief walk away from the bar. And it was the most incredible place she’d ever seen. All white, curved walls, and vast windows that gave stunning views out onto the