Page 72 of Forty, Flirty & Fired

His stubble grazes my skin, adding a rough edge to his soft kisses.

"The bedroom's upstairs," he murmurs between kisses, his breath warm against my ear.

"Is that a suggestion?" I look into his eyes, the green darkening with desire.

"More like a proposal." His hands slide higher under my sweater, his one fingers tracing the line of my bra. "Unless you'd prefer to continue our corporate culture discussion..."

I laugh against his mouth, feeling the curve of his smile against my lips. "Trying to negotiate, Mr. Drake?"

"Trying to seduce my corporate culture consultant, Ms. Gallo." He nips at my lower lip, his teeth gently tugging. "Is it working?"

"Depends." I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling the hard muscles of his back beneath my hands. "Is this a hostile takeover?"

"Friendly merger." His fingers trace patterns on my skin that make it hard to think, his touch both gentle and firm. "Very friendly." His dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he looks down at me.

"Any specific terms?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

"Just one." He pulls back slightly, green eyes dark with want but also something deeper. His jawline is sharp, accentuated by the soft light filtering through the windows. "No more walls. No more hiding. Just us."

The honesty in his voice makes my chest tight. He's not just talking about physical walls or professional barriers. He means all of it – the blog, the changes, the way we've been circling each other since that first champagne-soaked gala.

"Alex..." I reach up, tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against my fingertips.

"I know who you are, Mac." His thumb traces my cheekbone, his touch tender. "All of you. The critic and the champion. The revolutionary and the reformer. And I want all of it. All of you." His eyes hold mine, the green depths filled with longing.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Upstairs," I manage, because if I don't kiss him right now I might actually combust. "Now."

He grins against my mouth, his dimples deepening. "So demanding."

"Problem with that?" I challenge, my voice breathless.

"God, no." He lifts me easily, his muscles flexing beneath his sweater. "It's one of my favorite things about you." His eyes sparkle with amusement and desire, a dangerous combination that makes my heart race.

We make it halfway up the stairs before my sweater hits the floor. His follows somewhere in the hallway, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and abs. By the time we reach the master bedroom, we're both significantly less dressed and significantly more desperate.

His jeans hang low on his hips, revealing the V of his muscles that disappear beneath the waistband.

"Wait," I gasp as he lays me on the ridiculously large bed. "Protection?"

He reaches for the nightstand drawer, his biceps bulging with the movement. "I might have been optimistic in my packing." His voice is a low rumble, filled with promise.

"Might have?"

"Thoroughly prepared, in fact.” He kisses down my neck, his lips soft and warm against my skin. "Like any good CEO."

"Always have to be in control, don't you?"

His smile turns wicked. “Want to negotiate that position?" His voice is a low growl, filled with promise.

"I want you to take control," I whisper, my voice thick with desire. "Show me what you've got, Mr. Drake."

His eyelids grow heavy with lust, his pupils dilating as he looks at me with pure hunger.

He trails kisses down my body, his hands exploring every curve and contour. I curl like a contented cat into his touch, my breath hitching as he unhooks my bra and tosses it aside. His mouth finds my nipple, sucking and teasing until I'm writhing beneath him, my fingertips curving half-moons into his silky silver-streaked hair and scalp.

"Alex," I moan, my hands gripping his hair, feeling the soft strands slip through my fingers. "More."

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