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.

even more. I’ve never heard myself slur

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 waves

have the urge to poke him between the eyebrows. They are too even and straight to

prefer the hotel rug to a bed?” he can’t speak without smiling, so

smile. No! A gorgeous

was almost an answer, I

why did I

maybe I’ll hear something soothing like the ocean, like

those tidal waves of

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 my room. Freaky

feel amazing; why can’t I

to bed.” I sound petulant, like a child, and start struggling. If I go to bed, I’ll stop feeling 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 signs instead

He fusses, struggling

puts my writhing body on my own bare feet

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

He talks too much.

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

I know it’s not a real frown, it’s an, “I think

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

dimple gently with my fingertip as if

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 pretty sparkle and

his upper body tilted back so he can look down at me. It’s hard to walk in a straight line and harder to control my limbs when

no idea what he said. I glance back at sparkly and see it’s just my cell that I’m trying to catch and lose interest immediately. It’s no longer

decided to have yourself a one women party on the floor,

love Jake’s smile … It makes me sigh and

tickly under my hands. If I cut off the sexy voice, and adorable smile that goes with the cute look, then I

seeing the cell again and