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.

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

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 waves above me. Everything feels dreamlike and warm

him between the eyebrows. They are too even and straight

without smiling, so I guess

a beautiful smile. No! A

was almost an answer, I

I

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

donor and all those tidal waves of

or squeal, and I’m being carried like a baby towards my room. Freaky Lisa comes to mind,

can’t I always feel

lose this warm feeling and blank mind euphoria; I may start fixating on shitty fathers who abandon their kids in

fusses, struggling to hold

and he finally stops and puts my writhing body on my own bare feet outside my door before he drops me, but

have the overwhelming urge to “Shhh” him. Which I do with a grand finger gesture on

He talks too much.

free and boyish, uncomplicated and deep. Like him. I could listen to

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

he can be when he looks like that. God, that makes me feel sad.

guess my sad face is on show. I poke his dimple gently with my fingertip as if to

fingers wave and I notice there’s a shiny sparkly thing on the table behind 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 up and memorizing, I’m like a magpie to a

attempt a grab at the object of my interest on the unit. His arms loosely around me, his upper body tilted back

What are you talking about?” I turn back at him confused, my head slightly spinning and I’ve no idea what he said. I glance back at sparkly and see it’s just my cell that I’m

decided to have yourself a one women party on the floor, without me?” he’s

makes me sigh and go all warm

His lips are soft and tickly under my hands. If I cut off the sexy

cell again and I remember