Mr. CEO – A Man Who Knows What He Wants Read online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Mr. CEO - A Man Who Knows What He Wants

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Flora Ferrari

Language:
English
Book Information:

I’m so ready to handle this billionaire CEO’s primal passion.
From the first time he locks eyes on me, staring through the window of his oh-so-alpha sport’s car, he gets possessive and jealous, stopping at nothing until he claims me.
I interview at his company, but his carnal obsession goes so far beyond the workplace. I might just be an inexperienced younger woman, but he wants to become my protector and this older man does not take no for an answer. But can I balance my career and the boss’s advances, or will my past catch up with me and make him realize he might’ve picked the wrong naïve orphan?
I’ve been lied to before, and I’m vulnerable and just a little ditsy. But I’ve got some sass, too, and this hunky silver fox wants to draw it out of me.
But can I take his high-flying lifestyle… or am I destined to crash and burn? Will this obsessed CEO make me his?
*MR. CEO is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
Books by Author:

Flora Ferrari



Chapter One

Santiago

I guide the Ferrari through the city, relishing the rumble of the engine. As the billionaire owner of the largest media conglomerate in the world, having a car custom-made to be twice as powerful as the market model was not a difficult feat.

I grip the steering wheel hard, my muscled forearms bulging through the steel-blue fabric of my business suit, as I listen to Delaney rant on and on in the conference call.

Weak men do that, thinking it makes them strong. They speak too much and believe that raising their voices makes them powerful. They’re dead-wrong. Real power comes from knowing when to sit back, to wait, to stalk like a lion across the savannah and strike when the moment is right.

“Santiago,” he whines after a while. “You can’t do this.”

I smirk under my breath. What a goddamn fool this man is. I can’t do it, he says. I feel a wave of liquid anger flow around my body, infusing my taut, well-trained muscles.

“They were corrupt reporters,” I snarl, revving my engine as the light turns green. I glide through the city, the sun rising and bathing the high-rises in light. This is my playground, this exclusive sector of the metropolitan, all shiny glass and men in business suits and women in pencil suits, like a great mass of ambition rolling down the sidewalk. “Delaney, I can do anything I damn well please. And if that means making sure they face justice, that’s what they goddamn deserve.”

“Corrupt,” Delaney snorts. I imagine him sitting in his oversized office chair, a man given to comforts and personal indulgences, probably with some empty-headed secretary there nodding at his every word. “What does that mean in our business? Corrupt or honorable, it doesn’t matter. It’s all about the bottom line—”

“It means they broke the rules,” I bark. “They lied, Delaney. And even if that’s acceptable in your company that’s your problem, it’s not acceptable in mine. We tell the truth. Good or bad, pretty or ugly, that’s what we stand for.”

“You’re giving us all a bad name, though.”

I’m almost certain I can hear the man pouting, and it drives a stake of fury deep into my chest. A man should not pout. He should act. I’d prefer Delaney to rage and yell and tell me he wants to fight me, anything other than this groveling.

“Reporters are a dying breed as it is. We can’t have them running scared.”

I turn the corner to the Sasso Communications high-rise, my building. It stands apart from the surrounding buildings. I had it renovated not too long ago, and now it’s the shiniest place in the whole city, all slick steel, reflecting the sun like a beacon. It’s gorgeous and it’s a sign – to Delaney and weak men like him – that the way I do business pays. And pays well.

“You handle your business,” I snap. “And I’ll handle mine.”

I turn the corner toward my private parking entrance, waiting as a few pedestrians file past. Then, when I push the pedal and hear the answering snarl of the Ferrari, I head toward the entrance.

The woman isn’t looking where she’s going. She just walks out in front of me.

And I stare.

She stops, shocked at almost being bumped by the hood of my car. But that isn’t why I can’t take my eyes off her.

In all my forty-two years, I’ve never seen a woman so, damn…so womanly.

With her white shirt and suit jacket hugging her shapely form, I thank fate for putting her into my path, her full-figured beauty putting savage notions into my mind. Her skirt clings tightly to her ample thighs, the thin fabric unable to hide her curvaceous shape. I imagine tearing it like wet paper with my teeth, revealing the supple flesh beneath, nibbling, watching as goosebumps appear on her precious skin.

She gaps at me, a strand of auburn hair falling loose from her ponytail. Even from here, I can see a hint of nervousness in the glinting of her emerald-green eyes, as though she’s not sure whether to say sorry or just keep walking. That’s so refreshing, because most women who look at me are all gushing supplication, shamelessly offering themselves with their too-eager eyes.

But not this woman.

“Santiago?” Delaney says. His tone of voice tells me it’s not the first time he’s said my name. “Are you there?”

I press the end call button and just keep starting at the woman, a smirk on my face, as I eye her and she eyes me.

She shrugs her office bag, causing her life-giving breasts to bounce in the imprisoning white shirt. I can vaguely make out the patterned pinkness of her bra, and it makes me want to discover if her nipples are just as pink. I wonder if she’ll look just as unsure as I suck on them, as I palm her fertile flesh with my hands.

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