Her CEO: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 180)
CONTENTS
Her CEO
NEWSLETTER
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
NEWSLETTER
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS
LAIRDS & LADIES
RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD
IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS
About the Author
HER CEO
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 180
FLORA FERRARI
Copyright © 2020 by Flora Ferrari
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
HER CEO
Alyson
Eric Chambers. Man of the year and some might say media hog, but I’ve seen enough of his face and chiseled body in those Italian suits on TV and in the papers to know I want to work for him.
What I don’t count on is working directly under him.
Would an older guy, a man who has everything really go for a younger girl, a curvy girl like me?
As soon as we lock eyes, I know I’m his but it’s not easy to get in front of Eric Chambers, one on one. Alone.
Less easy still, is convincing myself I’m ready to work, to get on with the job, when all both our bodies want to do is play…
Eric
Half my life it took, and I’ve built an empire. Starting at the bottom, I’m now at the top looking down.
But it’s a lonely view without my queen. The one I never found but always felt I knew was out there. The sacred place waiting for her in my heart, by my side, in everything I ever do.
As soon as I see her, I know she’s the one. I know it’s all been worth it, worth waiting for.
I’d give it all up just to make sure I could keep her. Keep her safe, make her mine.
Problem is, there’s more than enough people waiting to take me up on that offer.
So I say, give me both.
I’ll have my cake and eat it too.
*Her CEO is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
NEWSLETTER
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CHAPTER ONE
Alyson
Looking up, it feels like more than the fifty stories of mirrored glass looking down on me from Chambers tower.
It’s a long shot, but my motivational book for the week recommended doing something that scares me.
And this absolutely terrifies me.
I do feel a thrill before I go inside though, more than the fear of the unknown, more than the edge of applying for a job in person. More than low blood sugar from skipping lunch again.
I feel eyes on me.
Hungry eyes, and it makes me wonder who would want me so bad.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but when I walk in and see the huge photographic portrait of the CEO of Chambers Inc. hanging in the foyer, I find a match for the feeling inside me.
He has hungry eyes. Dark, smoldering and intense eyes. They seem to follow me as I feel like I’m waddling to the elevators. A sudden flush of heat through my body and an equally sudden slickness between my legs isn’t the kind of reaction I’m used to, especially from a photo.
Something makes me stop though, turn and walk back briskly to his portrait.
Eric Chambers. Man of the year and some might say media hog, but I’ve seen enough of his face and chiseled body in those Italian suits on TV and in the papers to know I want to work for him.
For his company anyway.
The thought of a man like that anywhere near me on purpose makes me start to doubt why I’m even here again, let alone my chances with an actual living, breathing man anytime in this life, but damn. Those eyes… That chin… Those pecs…
I shiver a little, feeling my legs shaking as I fight the urge not to rub them together, a little sound escapes me as I stand in front of a twenty foot portrait of the most perfect man ever made.
“Here goes nothing,” I murmur under my breath, making my way back to the elevators and watching my shaking finger press ‘9’, the floor I know is Human Resources, but other than that I really have no idea what I’m doing.
I can already feel it though. Like those unseen eyes from outside, like the eyes from his huge portrait.
It’s like there’s an invisible line, joined to the space in between my thighs, drawing me to him. Drawing me to Eric Chambers.
It’s a stupid thought, but one I can’t shake until the elevator pings open.
A wall of frosted glass behind and a semi-circle of solid walnut in front with what looks like an angry Barbie behind it greets me. Not the eyes I’m thinking of, but narrowed, heavily made up eyes.
Plastic, like a doll’s. A shock of bleached hair, styled into a definite fire hazard.
“Help you?” she sighs, looking me up and down, creasing the edge of her tight mouth and it registers for the first time just how out of my depth I am in this building.
I stammer some gibberish about being the next asset to Chambers Inc., thrusting my resume folder out onto the high counter, which she ignores.
“Appointment?” she asks, those cold, dead blue eyes only showing life when I tell her no.
“Then I’m afraid we can’t help you. Applications for employment are by referral only.”
A blink and then the dismissive smirk that tells me I haven’t been imagining it. I really have just made a fool of myself by coming here today.
I open my mouth to say something else, but only hear a dry croak, followed by Malibu Barbie clearing her throat, reminding me to take my folder with me as I turn to leave.
The heat of arousal I felt moments ago is now the pepper red, burning hot walk of shame. Back to the elevator and not even wanting to turn around, but I catch the evil doll’s eyes one last time as she gives me a narcissistic little wave as the doors close.
The only good thing is I’m alone again, and I hear the same hollow sound escaping me as before, only louder. More prolonged and painful.
I feel tears coming, but mostly feel I stupid. Stupid for thinking I could just walk into a place like this and what?
Get a job?
I couldn’t get an interview on the evening news if my house burnt down let alone any serious chance at employment with Chambers Inc.
&n
bsp; My shoulders drop, and I toss my resume into the nearest trash can as I leave the elevator before heading for the huge glass exit.
I feel his eyes on me again, from twenty feet up, but it’s the narrowed, scornful eyes of everyone who’s ever told me I’m ‘just not what we’re looking for’ that I feel.
Meaning: We’re not ready for a thick set college graduate with no experience and anxiety as a hobby.
Idiot! Now Barbie and her gaggle of cheerleader friends will all be laughing about you for the rest of the day, probably the rest of the week.
I make definite plans to take the bus home and spend the rest of the day with pizza and a gallon of cookies and cream, binge watching anything that doesn’t have blonds or successful handsome men in it.
“Alyson! Alyson Bennet!”
I hear the strained call from behind me, an edge to it, filled with contempt but driven by something else.
Then the pecking, staccato sound of heels on the wide marble foyer.
Turning, I notice I’m not the only one to look.
It’s Malibu Barbie, waving my resume with what looks like half a latte and some mayonnaise from the trash can spilled down it, her eyes wild with a look of desperation that doesn’t make any sense.
Everybody in the foyer has stopped now, turning to look, but they’re not looking at Malibu Barbie.
Neither am I.
I’m looking past her, at the man standing by the open elevator, his hands folded across his front, his legs slightly apart. The man in the three thousand dollar suit, which he fills perfectly.
His dark hair is thick but styled to match the crispness of his suit. His chiseled jaw is pumping, twitching in time with the tapping of one of his impatient custom leather brogues.
But it’s his eyes that make me gasp. The invisible line between us suddenly running white hot all the way to the outline of my mound through my panties.
His smoldering look, far more intense than the huge photographic portrait hanging not far from him, which he dwarfs with his real life charisma and presence.
Eric Chambers.
Barbie snaps a heel, but keeps trotting, her pleading look makes me wonder if it’s the same person who made me feel so small just moments ago.
“I’m sorry. Ms. Bennet, I made a terrible mistake. Please forgive me,” she stammers, looking up to remember her lines, as if her very life depended on them.
“I-It’s Mr. Chambers. He’d like to see you now.”
CHAPTER TWO
Eric
Twenty years. Almost half my life.
Working my way up from mail rat to ass-kisser to executive, then finally to CEO and major shareholder, buying out all the opposition to create one of the biggest companies in history.
It started with electrical cordage and now covers everything from baseball bats to baby formula.
My motto. Just make stuff that works. Make it last and people will fill their lives with everything you make.
And they have.
I should be standing at the window with a hard on, looking down on the world I’ve mastered. But it sometimes feels like it’s all for nothing.
A lonely ride to the top, perched on a throne built for two.
Human Resources has never been something that interested me, until today. I’ve come down to set the head of the hiring and firing department straight on a few things, taking a moment to look out the window, when I see her.
It’s like a switch has gone on, flooding my mind and soul with new and fresh information.
Filling my senses with something, even from this distance, I can tell that I want.
Tell what belongs to me before she’s even looked up.
And she does look up, right into my eyes.
I know she can’t really see me and I can only make out her shape from this height, but it’s the feeling I get that draws me to her. Her blond hair billows back as she stares up, making me consider the chances of two people looking at each other at the exact same moment from nine stories up.
It’s her. She’s here.
A low growl escapes me, my hand pressing on the cool glass before tracing her outline with my finger as I feel the stirrings of that hard on at the window after all.
There’s an invisible line, I can feel it. Coming from me and going straight to her, deep inside her and it makes me gasp when she lowers her head, walking towards the entrance.
Timothy Sloane, head of Human Resources for Chambers Inc. is perched next to his desk, droning something about quarterly figures when his eyes widen, his mouth frozen half open as I suddenly launch myself towards his desk.
In seconds I’ve hijacked his computer, shifting the screen from quarterly reports to live CCTV feed from the building.
I feel a shuddering sigh of relief as I see her walk into the building, able to zoom in when she pauses to look up at me again, this time at my portrait hanging in the foyer.
“Mr. Chambers… Is everything-” Sloane starts to say, but my finger is up, silencing him as my brow furrows.
“That’ll be all Sloane,” I tell him, dismissing him from his own office, leaving him standing awkwardly by the door.
I feel my tongue running over my own lips, imagining them on her. My thickening arousal catches on pure silk, putting it through its paces as it fights to contain a hardness I haven’t known for years, maybe ever.
Another low growl registers as I feel my heart flicking, then pounding in my chest, filling my ears with a jungle beat that seems to match each heaving of her ample chest as she stares up at my picture.
There’s sixteen cameras in the foyer, but I’m only focused on the ones with her in their sights.
I can see her from behind as well as the sides and front. I let out a low moan, wanting her like nothing on earth and right fucking now.
“Sloane?” I hear myself rasping, feeling my mouth dry now, my hands trembling as I touch one to the screen, “Why are you still here?”
“Uh… It’s my office, Sir,” Sloane murmurs respectfully, and I crease a smile, shifting my hard dick north and flat against my zipper as I fight the urge not to moan out loud again.
“Of course it is.” I observe, not taking my eyes off her for a second, feeling a jolt of panic as she starts to move away, then back again, then finally towards the elevators.
“Your next employee has just walked in the building, Sloane. She’ll be working directly under me. Do you understand?”
His face is a puzzle, but it’s nothing for Eric Chambers to act a little weird from time to time.
“Of course,” Sloane agrees, “Who…?”
He’s trying to get some facts, but I’m scrambling to track her through the dozens of CCTV squares on the screen. My pounding heart nearly stops when she gets out of the elevator, onto the very floor I’m watching her from.
Of course she’s here. She’s coming straight to me.
Good girl.
“She’s right outside, Sloane. At reception on this floor. I want her in my office in ten minutes, understand?”
That should give me enough time to release some of this insane pressure in my cock. My god, but she’s beautiful.
She’s perfect.
“Sir,” Sloane stammers, pausing as he makes his way out the door, realizing it’ll take him a full minute to reach reception.
It’s a big department.
With one second of my looking at him, he’s bolting across the office space to get to reception.
I’m not far behind him, but I never run. I never have to.
Every single person in the office stands up as I walk by, making one of my rare but not unheard of appearances.
Men look down and women blush. The guilty avoid my gaze and the aspiring try to hold it as I saunter past. Thankfully my jacket covers my raging hard on but feeling the way I do right now, I couldn’t care if the whole world saw it.
It’s what she’s doing to me already.
Ordinarily, I’d take some time to see how things really are on the floo
r, but I’ve got more important things to deal with right now.
The only thing that truly matters.
Reaching reception, I find Sloane, sweating and wringing his hands, and what looks like a child’s doll staring at me, wide eyed before she tries to straighten her shock of hair, batting her eyelids as if she has something I’m interested in.
“Where is she?” I demand, feeling the stab of emptiness in my heart at not finding my prize at the bottom of the box.
“Where is she?” I ask again, my voice lowering to a growl.
“She left,” Sloane stammers. “Cynthia told her we’re not hiring…told her she needed a referral,” he says accusingly, taking a step back and even pointing his finger at the receptionist.
“Well, Cynthia? You can just go get her back, can’t you? Maybe she can have your job if you’d prefer?”
The Barbie’s cogs turn and it finally registers that not only is the elusive Eric Chambers actually standing on her floor, he’s mad as hell and wants what’s his returned to him.
Within seconds the pair of them scramble to bring her back, whoever she is.
Taking my own private elevator to the foyer, after guessing that’s where anybody would head after being brushed off, I hear myself growling again as I hear the bimbo secretary calling her name, chasing after her with the folder she’s just fished out of the trash.
The sound of her name makes me hot inside, and I feel the thick edge of my arousal returning as I see her perfect face turning to meet mine.
Alyson.
Alyson Bennet.
Mine.
CHAPTER THREE
Alyson
His thick index finger goes up as his eyes lock with mine, slowly pointing it towards me then curling it back towards him.
Come here…
I’m stunned, frozen to the spot, the sound of the secretary sounding like she’s suddenly underwater. The world suddenly meaningless under the power of his gaze, the erotic signals of his command.
I want to turn around, to make sure he really means me, but his brow cocks slightly, the edge of his lightly stubbled lip turning until he mouths the words come here.