Free Talking Dirty with the CEO by Jackie Ashenden Page A

she protested. “I need that!” She grabbed at it, but he held it out of her reach.
    “No, you don’t. Stop wasting time and just ask me some stuff. Then we can get on to what’s really important here.”
    Green sparks flickered in her eyes, flashes of temper. “Actually, what’s important is my interview.”
    “You’re cute when you’re angry, you know that?”
    “Give me back the phone, Mr. Ashton.”
    “I was Joseph to you last week.” He paused for effect. “Christie.”
    She flushed as he said her name. “Yeah, well, you’re Mr. Ashton now.”
    “Harsh, Naughtygirl. What did I ever to do you? Oh yes, that’s right. Only gave you a screaming orgasm.”
    “Can you please stop mentioning the orgasms?”
    “Why? Does it turn you on?” Maybe he was being a tad childish but he couldn’t seem to stop the words coming out of his mouth.
    Her eyes glittered and her T-shirt stretched tight over her breasts as she sucked in a breath, the press of her nipples obvious through the fabric. And he was betting that didn’t have anything to do with the air-conditioning.
    Oh yeah, she could deny it all she liked, but she was turned on.
    Just like he was.
    Christie’s teeth caught her lower lip yet again, and that did not help the tight feeling happening in the vicinity of his groin. “No, of course not.” Her voice had a husky, smoky quality that sounded downright illegal.
    “Liar,” he murmured, holding her gaze. “You’re as turned on as I am.”
    The tension in the room pulled achingly tight.
    Then there was a brief knock on the door and Liz, clearly oblivious to the mood she’d just killed, poked her head around it. “Five minutes, Joseph.”
    Ah, shit. Already? “Thanks for the reminder, Liz,” he said through gritted teeth.
    Christie blinked and sat back in her seat, pushing back a thick lock of hair that had fallen over her eye. “Great. Thanks for wasting my time, Mr. Ashton.” She said his name with particular emphasis. “Now give me my damn phone.”
    If she thought he was going to let her go so easily, she had another think coming. He wanted his explanation.
    Not just an explanation. Don’t kid yourself.
    May as well admit it. He wanted her, too.
    She sat across from him, arms folded, looking all stern and annoyed. And all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her. Find the passion they’d had in his bathroom.
    He’d never experienced anything like it in all his life, and he’d be damned if he let the chance of experiencing it again slip through his fingers.
    Joseph leaned back against the couch. “No,” he said.
    “What do you mean, no ?”
    “I mean no, you can’t have your phone back.”
    “Why the hell not?” The green sparks in her eyes had become tiny flames.
    “Because I want to know why you ran out on me. And I’ve got a feeling getting an explanation from you is going to take longer than five minutes.”
    “Are you always this irritating?”
    “Frequently.”
    Her chin lifted. “I don’t have to give you anything.”
    “Yeah, you do.” He held her gaze, letting her see what was in his. “You came apart in my arms, Christie St. John. You screamed my name. You gave me the best orgasm of my life. Then you left me standing there with my pants around my ankles, trying to figure out what happened.”
    She blushed, the red chasing over her face like a forest fire over snow. She opened her mouth but he raised a hand, silencing her. The hand that held her phone.
    “So here’s how this is going to go. If you want your phone, if you want your precious interview, you’re going to have to give me a full and frank explanation of why you left.” He smiled. “At my place.”
    …
    Christie gaped. Then realized she was gaping and shut her mouth before she started looking like some kind of moronic fish.
    His place? This interview was turning into the debacle of the century. She’d decided to act as if the whole one-night stand thing hadn’t happened. Tough it