Catching the CEO: The CEO Duet, #2

By Cecilia Campos

Nina

Okay, fine. I broke my own rules and fell for the dominant, superhero CEO. So what? Our life has become one big adventure, just as he promised, so that's a good thing, right? Our journey is just beginning and it feels as if my life is finally on the right track. Mostly...Everything should be perfect. So why does this wild ride have me feeling as though I'm losing all control?

Sebastian

I always get what I want and this time is no exception. After years of perfecting and executing my plan, Nina is finally mine. That was the easy part. Now, I have to figure out how to keep her once she finds out I'm not the superhero she thinks I am. People say life is a delicate balance of holding on and letting go? Well... screw that. This time, I'm never letting go.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bad Girl Books
• Release date: Mar 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393193234

Cecilia Campos

Sexy en luchtige romantiek schrijven is wat ik doe. Dagelijks ga ik de uitdaging aan om zowel mijn wilde krullen als mijn onstuimige karakter in toom te houden. Mijn grootste probleem is dat mijn man met geen mogelijkheid van me af kan blijven (zo irritant … hi hi!). Verder zetten mijn twee ondeugende meiden en ik ons met passie in om shoppen tot kunst te verheffen. Ik schrijf de boeken die ik graag zelf zou willen lezen over een liefde die alles overwint en stoere mannen waar je broekje van afsmelt.

Book preview

Prologue

NINA

The last couple of weeks here in the States have flown by. There are so many new people and just as many new faces and names to remember. At Audi USA, my days are jammed with meetings and brainstorm sessions. I was fine with that internal project. It wasn’t awful, but not great either. But the internship I’ve started is amazing! The fact that I’m not in my familiar truck isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I’m not missing those daily traffic jams at all.

Cowboy is wonderful. He is what little boys want to be when they grow up. Warm and kind. Intelligent and compassionate. A sex god under and outside of the covers. He works long hours in the office and when he’s not there, he’s on business trips. It’s a good thing we’re living together, otherwise I wouldn’t see a lot of him.

Every time I see him around the office, my heart does a little somersault. In those moments, he has an aura surrounding him that attracts, that self-confidence with which he walks and looks. The way he chews on the end of his glasses when he’s thinking hard. How he puts one hand in his pocket when he’s listening to someone. Everything about that man is incredibly sexy. I wonder if that is good for productivity—how can anyone get any work done with all that distraction?

My brand new Nike running shoes feel good as they touch the gray tiles of the sidewalk with every step, a fantastic Don Diablo song blasting in my headphones. Just the right BPM puts me in the perfect mood. Running isn’t easy for me. Actually, I don’t like it at all.

However, I do like pasta, so I have to exercise. Running is an easy choice. You can do it any time of day. You just put on your running gear and shoes, and off you go. I have been doing it for two years and it works. It helps me find peace of mind.

I. Am. A machine. I. Am. A machine. I. Am. A machine. As long as I keep repeating this in my head, I ought to be able to keep running and burn the necessary calories. Suddenly, I feel the laces of my right shoe have come loose. Out of breath, I stop and bend over to tie them.

Drops of sweat fall on my hands. Why is it so fucking hot today? It’s only the end of April, but the temperature suggests otherwise. The hot air makes my lungs feel like they are fused together. With my hands on my knees, I try to suck in some much-needed oxygen. The air feels heavy and it’s so hot the mirages on the streets appear to grow bigger and my breathable sports bra is glued to my body. As far as I’m concerned, they can fire the idiot who invented the label breathable fabric because nothing is breathing at the moment.

Where the heck am I? Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go running by myself after all. As a trucker girl, you would expect me to have a decent sense of direction, but nope. I would get lost visiting my grandmother, where I lived for two years, for crying out loud! I get lost inside buildings and airports, and even leaving a shop, not knowing if I came in from the left or right.

I should head back home. There is a large tree on the corner of the street. Maybe if I stand in its shadow, which looks nice and cool, I could bring up Google Maps on my phone and look up the address. Let the device tell me which way to go.

Lizard eyeballs in onion gravy...what was the address again? Think, Nina. Keep your cool, even if it’s hot. You can do this. You’d think that I would be able to remember my own address by now, but honestly, I hardly ever get out the door by myself. I’m usually with Cowboy or one of the girls. And I order my groceries online, so they are delivered to my doorstep.

Think, Nina. What was the address? Something with one of the elements in it. Fire Street? Wind Street? Or was it Earth Street ... No, Nina, I think that used to be a band back in the seventies. This is so typical me to forget the address. Unbelievable!

Confused, I glance around for something familiar. Our apartment is one of the highest here in the Georgetown neighborhood in Washington, D.C. Well, it’s not really that high, actually. Against any expectations you might have, Washington is no New York. There are no enormously high office buildings here. Georgetown has a surprisingly European look to it, with cute colonial houses, and channels along some of its streets. Very different from the New York we all know from TV. Sure enough, Cowboy’s apartment is not as big and tall as the buildings in New York, but it is one of the highest here and has a view of the Potomac. I think that’s a river. Well, it’s a large pool of water anyway. Why on earth can I remember the name of that stupid river, but not our street?

Maybe I could find the name by just relaxing a bit and looking around. Nope. Nothing remotely familiar. Should I call Cowboy? I’m not sure if I have the guts for that. We discussed the running on my own. Well, he talked, I listened. Not that we had a two-sided conversation, and an agreement was never reached. He just told me I wasn’t allowed to go out on my own. He didn’t think that would be safe. Back then, I thought his obsessive concern was adorable and I simply didn’t see any reason to contradict him. I figured I would go out if I felt like it and I just didn’t feel like using the treadmill in the training room of the apartment today.

Come on, Nina, you are a grown woman. Surely you won’t let a man forbid you to go outside?

I decide to swallow my pride and my fear of his reaction and call Cowboy. The phone rings and rings and rings. There is no answer. As soon as the voicemail comes on, I quickly leave him a message. Cowboy, I was running, but I got a bit lost and I forgot our address. Can you call me back as soon as possible? Kiss! Kiss... I thought we just established you’re a grown woman, Nina?

Back to some more running then. If I head back the direction I came from, maybe I’ll find the way back by myself. I couldn’t have run more than ten minutes. Some quick math tells me that would be a little over a mile. Seems doable to me.

At the crosswalk, I have to wait before crossing. Next to me, at the traffic light, is a black Chevrolet Chevy van. I hear the driver put his foot down on the gas. Weird. Why would you do that in front of a traffic light? The black windows obscure the idiot from my view.

Then he does it again and I can hear the van’s motor rumble in protest. What a dufus ... As soon as the signal to walk turns on, I quickly cross the street, deciding to ignore him.

I take a look at my surroundings and realize this all seems familiar. I continue with big strides. At the end of the street, there is another crossing. From the corner of my eye, I see the black Chevy van approaching. I have to wait until it has passed me before I cross. As I do, I hear the loud sound of a horn. It’s the van, nearly giving me a heart attack! There was no need for the driver to honk, the situation was in no way even remotely dangerous. I exhale loudly when the car turns right at the end of the street. Good riddance, I think to myself.

Now that I’m walking again, I check my phone, but there’s no message from Cowboy. It is so unlike him to neglect returning my call. Oh well, he must be very busy. Looking up, I recognize some shops, which means I’m still going in the right direction.

A couple of blocks further down the road, I hear the same honking. I look around, trying to find the source. Surely, it’s not the stupid black van again?

Rabbit’s ears with mosquito cream... What the hell does that guy want from me?

At least, I assume it’s a guy, but I still don’t know for sure, since I can’t actually see the person in the vehicle. This is starting to get a little creepy now. The van pulls up alongside me and matches my pace as I walk on the sidewalk. He drives so slowly, other drivers are passing him, honking their horns and yelling out their windows.

Hoping to shake him off, I pick up my pace and cross into the park, where he cannot follow me. Ha! I scurry behind a tree and watch as the van drives off. Relief rushes through me when I start walking, realizing at once that our apartment is right around the corner. The street sign says Water Street. See, I knew it was something like that! I take the keys out of my pouch to open the door to the main entrance. Suddenly, I hear that freaking honking again and see the black van being parked right in front of the entrance.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. This can’t be happening?

With panic rushing from my toes to my stomach, I realize this lunatic has followed me home. Stay calm, Nina. He can’t possibly get in without a key. Nevertheless, I push the elevator button, willing it to arrive quickly. I cannot wait to be home and far away from that idiot. The elevator announces itself with a soft ping. I get in and press the button for the top floor. As the doors slide shut much too slowly, I hear the door of the main entrance open and someone calling, Hold that elevator!

Hold that elevator? I actually get an image of myself stretching my arms and trying to hug the elevator. Who on earth came up with that expression anyway?

Nina, get real. Who the hell cares? You are in danger and you need to get into your apartment as quickly as possible!

Panic feels like a solid demon in my throat by now. I have no intention at all to hold this elevator. Least of all, for that lunatic in the black van.

When I reach my floor, I hurry down the hallway to the door of the apartment. There are too many keys on my chain. Which key is the right one? I pick one at random and put it in the keyhole. The door won’t open.

Shit on a pile of crap with a cherry on top. Which key? Stay calm, Nina. You can do this!

I try another key. At that moment, I hear the ping again, then the elevator doors slide open. A man steps out of the elevator, wearing a black balaclava! It is fucking eighty-six degrees outside, so I’m guessing that balaclava is not meant to keep the cold from his face. This can’t be good. Nope. My hands shake as I put the next key in the keyhole. It works. The door opens and I rush inside, slamming the door behind me as quickly as I can. Not quickly enough, though. A foot appears in the door opening and then everything seems to happen in slow motion. With all my strength, I try to shut the door, but I’m not strong enough. Suddenly, the man is right in front of me.

1. Go with the flow

NINA - SIX WEEKS EARLIER

I study my naked reflection in the mirror. It’s that of a sexy, confident woman. The gorgeous man standing behind me wraps his arms around me, his huge hands grabbing my breasts. Mmm, that feels good. I relax and throw my head back, resting it on his shoulder, and lean into him, thoroughly enjoying this wonderful feeling.

He growls softly, and I feel his breath on my neck as he caresses my breasts. One of his hands reaches my bare skin and kneads my breast, while the other hand begins to travel south. He slides it over my belly and then cups me between the legs. In the small of my back, just above my butt, I feel his hard dick.

He presses his huge erection against me, dragging it back and forth, so I can feel every inch of it. Automatically, I lift my butt and turn my hips gently in the opposite motion of his dick, needing the friction.

I feel so feminine and sexy being held and admired by such a big, strong man like this. I lean against his broad, masculine chest, feeling his breath on my neck—there is no better feeling.

Slowly, I look into the mirror again. Cowboy is standing behind me. It’s not a fantasy this time. It’s not a daydream. This is real, a dream come true.

If my life were a highway, it would lead to us.

SEBASTIAN

Her little kisses feel soft and warm on my cheek. Those green, expressive eyes observe me, full of concern. I focus on those beautiful, full lips, asking if I’m okay. I’m great, now. I cup her face while a horrible images disappear into the background. Is there a better way to wake up?

You were having a nightmare, she tells me.

I’m fine now. Now, I’m in the middle of dream. My Nina Stellina dream.

Well, hello, Mr. Mushy Romantic, she says, rolling her eyes while she tries to free her face from my hands. Her annoyance fascinates me. I think she is the only woman on this planet who doesn’t fall for my romantic bullshit. It’s so refreshing to me I keep doing it only because I enjoy her reaction so much.

Come here, I demand. I need to have that fantastic body under mine, and I use my knees to spread her legs as wide as possible to make room for me.

"I am here," she whispers softly.

Come. Here, I demand once more. I grip both of her cheeks tightly, bringing our faces closer together.

I. Am. Here. She laughs, then continues. What do you want from me? 

"You know darn well what I want and what the deal is here. Even if you wanted to pretend that you don’t know what the deal is, believe me you don’t want me to explain it to you. Because this doesn’t need explanation...."

Then, I kiss her, deep and long. I kiss her the way she loves, the way that tells her how I feel about her. It’s how I remind her of how she feels about me, without words, only with actions. At the same time, I distract her with it, because I really don’t want to explain my nightmare to her. It’s the same nightmare every week, one that seems to have no intention of leaving me the heck alone.

The moment our mouths part, she places her forehead against mine, and whispers, Uh-oh ... bossy Cowboy in sight ...

She gives me a little cute laugh and places a chaste kiss on my mouth. I love that she has a nickname for me and never uses my name. Nina is one of the few who truly knows who I am underneath the confident, commanding exterior. She knows Sebastian is not my real name, and that I hate it. I’m not just the CEO of Audi USA, because I grew up on a farm in Illinois with my parents, who are Dutch farmers who immigrated to America. That’s why she calls me Cowboy.

She also knows I have a somewhat dark, criminal past I’m not proud of, and yet she still likes me. I love that this woman knows everything about me, because she’s the only woman I have ever had a relationship with, the only one who knows all my secrets. I love her creativity and her adeptness. Is that the correct word for it? I don’t really know, but it should be, because that’s exactly what I think she possesses in abundance. Adeptness.

"When I say come here, it means I want to feel your lips on mine. So, don’t tell me that you’re here. What you should do is kiss me. Understood?" 

Are you mad now? Her expressive eyes show me this is a sincere question. It’s also a logical one, because she’s only known me for two weeks. Two weeks really isn’t long enough to know exactly when I’m being serious and when I’m just playing, like now.

"Not at all, Stellina. But I needed to reprimand you because, when I ask you something, I want you to do it. Just like I will do anything you want. Got it?"

So, I should do what you say as soon as you say it?

Yes.

"Boy, you are bossy, aren’t you?"

I respond by thrusting myself deeply into her without warning. Her tight softness had been ready for me this entire time and causes goose bumps all over my body. It feels like static electricity running through my veins, fusing us together. The physical way in which I dominate her is exactly how she consumes my soul on an emotional level.

That’s old news, darling. My words confirm what she already knows.

In this moment, I’ve just introduced an important rule, one she probably doesn’t even realize yet—she can do whatever she pleases, but when I ask her to do something, she has to oblige. Always. That’s the single most important rule for our relationship. I will not tolerate any objections. What I want, will be done. What she wants, will be done too, and that will always be what I want. See? I can be flexible.

She looks up at the ceiling with an annoyed glance, but I know it’s fake, just like my strictness with her. This is our foreplay, that’s becoming more and more clear to me. As if I needed proof of that, she twists her hips to grant me better access. Her hands slide over my back, caressing me softly. It’s such a familiar feeling, I would almost think it wasn’t the first time she’s done it. But it is. Just like we’ve had many firsts this night.

It has only been a couple of hours since we were intimate for the first time. Perhaps intimate is not the correct word, since I’ve had the privilege of putting my face between her gorgeous legs several times over the past few weeks, and I would call that intimate as well. What I mean is I was allowed inside her, and we finally became one. That kind of intimacy is what we shared for the first time a couple of hours ago. It was the result of years of planning and all that hard work has finally paid off.

I met my Stellina—Nina —when I was twenty. She was only ten back then, and the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was so full of life. So full of love. So full of freedom. Emotionally, she was very wise and inspired me into becoming a better person. Nina gave me the will to escape my criminal life. From a distance, I kept tabs on her, following her life and her development. On the one hand, I wanted to make sure she would be safe. On the other, I was fascinated by her. She is beautiful on the inside as well as on the outside, and I wanted to make sure that would never change by making her the happiest woman on earth. If she was happy, so was I.

I was always there in the background, without her knowing it. I had to wait and plan for many years to finally be with her, both mentally and physically. Since the death of her parents, she threw herself into a life of random sexual adventures enthusiastically. Sexcapades, she called them. Fortunately, I succeeded in convincing her to try a relationship with me. A sexcapade 2.0, I like to call our adventure. It has become my life’s mission to make sure we can be together for the rest of our lives. Our adventure has only just started.

While she’s staring up at the ceiling, I take the opportunity to sniff her neck because she smells wonderful. My lips follow the trail from under her ear to her shoulder. My dick decides to take action and starts moving in and out of her, slow and intense. You can’t blame him because, well, it has been the single most magnificent experience for him as well, having the privilege of coming inside Nina Palermo, my Stellina, and he wants more.

Yeah, that’s right, I talk about my dick as if it has a mind of its own. He has. As far as Nina is concerned, that is. Over the past few years, he hasn’t been interested in any other woman, and I had no say at all in that.

Nina interrupts my string of thought by pinching my butt with both hands. Cheeky. She’s incredibly cheeky. She’s also beautiful, honest, sweet and funny, and sharp. The list keeps getting longer and I love it.

Are you trying to tell me something? To my deepest regret, I have to stop worshipping her neck to ask her this, but immediately resume my task.

"I think you are trying to tell me something. Because I’m feeling something between my legs, and it’s pointing to a place deep inside me."

He is trying to lead the way. He knows you’re a truck driver, and he just wants to be polite and point you in the right direction.

He?

Yes, he. You two got acquainted earlier on.

"Oh. I didn’t realize he has his own identity. Does he have a name too?"

No. He likes anonymity.

Anonymity?

Yes. Because he’s involved in some rather dirty business. Things that are best kept in the dark.

Dirty business?

Yes, he moves in dark circles, I explain with my most serious expression. Before she can ask, I quickly add, You know, dark, moist, warm places. He loves nesting there and never wants to leave again. He likes to spin in circles and go deeper and deeper, until the walls move in on him and smother him.

So, he’s a pervert, but he points me in the right direction? Her eyebrows furrow, but there’s a hint of mischief behind her eyes as she plays along.

Exactly! That’s him.

Okay. Nice to have made his acquaintance then. I like a pervert who knows how to get places.

Good. Because he loves sharp, cheeky female truck drivers named Nina who like signposting perverts like him. With my left hand, I push her hair aside so I can reach her earlobe. She caresses the back of my head until she reaches my ponytail, where she pulls the rubber band out of my hair. It cascades forward and obscures my view, and my ability to breathe.

Hey! What are you doing? My hips stop moving while I try to blow the hair out of my face.

You said that you will do anything I say right away, right?

Uh-oh, smells like trouble.

I want you to cut your hair. There’s a smug look in her eyes, as though she feels her request would bother me.

Then I want you to get over here with your cheeky mouth and do dirty stuff to the signposting pervert.

Deal, she says resolutely.

Deal. I turn us over, and let her do perverted stuff to my pervert.

A LITTLE WHILE LATER, after we’ve showered, Nina stands in front of the mirror, combing her wet hair. She sees me in the reflection and catches my eye. She sets the brush on the dresser and lets the towel wrapped around her body fall to the floor.

Do you realize that I have absolutely nothing to wear? she asks with a sassy look in her eyes.

Yes, I do. In fact, from my position on the bed, I have an excellent view of this fact.

And what are we going to do about that?

"First, we’ll order room service, then have a bite to eat, and then, I will give you a tour of this hotel room." My mischievous grin says more than my words.

"It is a big hotel room, so I do want to see all of it," she agrees. I don’t think she realizes what this discussion is really about.

Well. This room is big, and size does matter after all, I add, to give a better image of what I actually mean.

You can say that again. Her grin is the naughtiest I have ever seen, and tells me she understood me perfectly.

There is one corner in particular that I would really want to show you. I get up and take her hand, so she follows me.

Which corner? She lifts an eyebrow in a very sexy way.

That corner over there. I point. It’s a very important little corner. It might be that you need to bend over really low to see it, but I think you can.

"Oh, that corner. You can show me all the corners of the room, Cowboy."

AN HOUR LATER, WE ARE lying on the bed, tired but satisfied, catching our breath. Her head is on my shoulder, her leg across mine.

So, what did you think of that corner? Her hair tickles