The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

“Emma?” his deep tone catches my attention.

“Jake.” I smile, opening my eyes again in a fluttery devilish way.

Oops, busted. He found me.

“Emma are you drunk?” his voice sounds husky with amusement and I laugh in answer as he moves toward me, stands over me looking down.

Oh boy, is it a breathtaking view!

His tie is off and draped casually round his shoulders, his white shirt open at the collar, his jacket discarded somewhere already.

Why did I never notice just how fuckable my boss is?

I hiccup, and it feels funny in my throat, sounds so weird to me that it makes me giggle again.

I like being drunk, I’m lighter and more fun; it makes me think Jake is sex worthy and that’s pretty hilarious. I don’t find men a turn on at all, so that’s even funnier … Well, except Jake! He’s the exception to the rule in that everything he does is panty warming and alluring, even standing staring at me as he is now.

I’m hit with a strange sound. It’s me. I’m laughing; I guess I find myself amusing and I sound so detached and not here.

I must be really drunk.

“Emma, I think you better get in bed. Come on.” He leans down to catch my hand from across my stomach, but I leave it floppy and weighted, so he gets nowhere pulling at it.

I don’t want to hold hands today, Carrero. You’re looking a tad too Casanova tonight.

When he picks it up again, he tugs, but I refuse to cooperate. Deliberately going limp and weighing myself down.

Nope, I’m not going to hold hands with my hot boss while he’s swooning around looking all sexy on me.

I giggle again. Too heavy and too comfy to move. I want to sleep on my fluffy floor. It’s nice here. It feels good.

can hear it now and it amuses me even more. I’ve never heard myself slur before, never allowed myself to

held in front of me and prod dementedly at the air as if I’m trying to make a point, fascinated at the uncoordinated motion of my own limb as it

me and I have the urge to poke him between the eyebrows. They are

rug to a bed?” he can’t speak without smiling, so I guess he is

beautiful smile. No! A gorgeous

That was

why did I drink so

If I close my eyes, maybe I’ll hear something soothing like the

and all those tidal waves of emotions I

scoops down and slips his hands under me, hoists me up effortlessly as though I weigh nothing. I’m too drunk to fight, or squeal, and I’m being carried like a baby towards

feel amazing; why can’t I always feel like

this way. I may lose this warm feeling and blank mind euphoria; I may start fixating on shitty fathers who abandon their kids in infancy. Pricks who only see dollar

hold still.” He fusses, struggling to

bare feet outside my door before he drops me, but upright

have the overwhelming urge to “Shhh” him. Which I do with

He talks too much.

and it sounds good; looks even better. I like Jake’s laugh, it’s so free and boyish, uncomplicated

a real frown, it’s an, “I think you’re a funny drunk,” frown and it

cute? I guess he can be when he looks like that. God, that makes me feel sad. Why does he have to

on show. I poke his dimple gently with my fingertip as

him. I always liked sparkly things as a child; I want to play with it. It looks like my cell and it’s all lit

a grab at the object of my interest on the unit. His arms loosely around me, his upper body tilted back so he can look down at me. It’s hard to walk in a straight line and

slightly spinning and I’ve no idea what he said. I glance back at sparkly and

have yourself a one

Jake’s smile … It makes me sigh and go all warm and

except this time it’s his mouth I cover with splayed palms. His lips are soft and tickly under my hands. If I cut off the

look around, seeing the cell again