Page 46 of Saved By the CEO

I wonder what Josh is doing right now. Is he moping around his apartment, or is he out kicking trash cans? I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s the latter, or at least some version of it. He seemed angry. And okay, I understand this is upsetting for him, but I don’t think he has the right to be angry with me. I didn’t choose this. Neither did Andrew.

It’s not cheating.

And also, Josh and I aren’t even officially boyfriend and girlfriend yet. So it wouldn’t be cheating either way.

“Carly?”

I open my eyes.

Andrew is looking at me with a slight frown. He still has one hand on my breast and two fingers inside me.

“You okay?” he asks. “You’re not as… responsive as you usually are.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really in my head.” I prop myself up on my elbows. “Can you believe Josh had the gall to ask me to be exclusive while we were waiting for you to come pick me up? Like, hello? I’m dying. Can we prioritize that?”

Andrew carefully removes his hands.

“So what did you say?”

“Basically that. I asked if we could hold off on the conversation until later.” I sigh. “But isn’t that messed up? That he seemed more worried about that than my health? I keep thinking about it. The fact that he’s probably at his apartment right now, fuming because you’re the one who can help me. And tomorrow, when he sees me fever-free and alive, some part of him will hate that you succeeded.”

Andrew’s expression stills.

“Not because he wants me to die or anything,” I add quickly. “But because he can’t do it.”

“He can’t get you off?”

“Nope.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. “Want me to give him some pointers?”

I reach over and give him a light shove. He grins.

“Okay,” I say, lying back down. “Let’s get rid of this fever.”

His hands find me again, but my head keeps spinning.

I cannot believe I just dumped all of that on him. I’m getting way too comfortable.

If I continue down this road, I’ll start seeing things that aren’t there. I’ll overshare. I’ll get weird. Then one day I’ll arrive at the office and find him waiting with a restraining order and a lawyer. Or no, scratch that. A restraining order and a cop holding a pair of handcuffs, ready to escort me out of the building.

Or maybe Andrew is the one holding the handcuffs.

Nowthat’san idea.

“Carly.”

“Hm?”

His hand stills on my knee. “This isn’t going very well, is it?”

I open my mouth to protest, but the lie dies on my tongue.

I am nowhere near an orgasm.

“I have an idea,” he says. “But it might be too much. If it is, just say so, and we’ll forget I mentioned it.”