The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO) novel Chapter 60

“Shit.” I gasp as his arms lasso me, he shifts so my weight ends up beside him on the lounger, instead of on top of him, keeping me in his embrace and laying us both back. It’s comfy and warm from his body heat in the now cooler night air and I sink contently.

“Bit drunk there, Miss. Anderson?” he chuckles at me, sounding boyish and happy and I smile too.

Just charming.

“Sof course not”

What?

Okay, so maybe, I’m a lot drunk.

He laughs into my hair, his mouth pressed to my temple as he slides his other hand across my neck and shoulder and pulls me against him. Cuddling me in easily.

“Glad to see you letting go.” He smiles, almost nose to nose with me. His warm breath on my face and heavy scent of alcohol; it gives me an overwhelming sense of closeness and my body tingles deliciously from head to toe.

“I think falling on top of your boss is more than letting go.” I giggle, relaxing to the sensation and surrendering to the sway around me, regaining the control of my vocabulary, even if it’s slurring still.

“I’m not your boss for the next two weeks.” He winks. That handsome face close enough to touch with my tongue.

“Okay, I shall rephrase … Falling on top of your temporary not boss, is overdoing it.” I chortle again, so light, and free and a little bit silly. My hair blows gently across my face, yet he strokes it back, lingering, playing with its short new waves. I think he’s more than a little obsessed with the cut, and it makes me sigh adoringly. The sensation of having my hair played with is addictive when he’s the one doing it.

“Do you need me to put you to bed?” he asks, still focusing on twirling a strand, his face is really so close I can almost lick him without moving.

Stop it, Emma!

“Do I not need to put you to bed?” I slur again and bask in his laughter; he finds that highly amusing. I want to wrap myself up in that laugh, it’s so inviting and familiar.

“I’m sure I can handle way more alcohol than you, tiny.”

“I’m not so sure, I haven’t seen you walk yet.” I point at him with a drunk air jab. Being drunk can be pretty amazing at loosening me up and forgetting my Boss/PA boundaries.

“I’m sure after seeing you try that; it proves you’re worse than me.” He stays smirking down at me, finally letting my hair go. Shifting his body weight, causing the bed dip lightly. The chatter of the others nearby has droned down to a background hum and I’m barely even aware of them anymore. It feels like it’s just the two of us.

“I like your dimples when you smile.” I prod his face. Focusing on his features a little too closely, distracted by them and how he never ceases to look gorgeous, no matter how long I have known him.

“And there she is.” He grins at me with a twinkly in his eye.

“There who is?” I ask in confusion, a frown creasing my forehead.

“Drunk Emma … How are you doing? … I missed you, baby.” His dimples cutely indent with the huge smile he’s giving me, sheer joy in that look.

“You missed drunken Emma?” I ask blinking suspiciously, not jumping into the merry reunion vibe.

“I did.”

“Why? Do you like her more than me?” I pout with sad eyes, not even smiling when he laughs at me and shakes his head. A childish surly mood instantly brewing in my depths.

“You are drunken Emma …”

“No. I’m not … I’m just Emma … Drunken Emma is …” I’m confused and I’ve no idea what I’m saying, he’s laughing at me again and it’s infuriating my sulky side.