My CEO Boss Is A Masked Internet Sensation
Chapter 69: Their Secrets

Chapter 69: Their Secrets

(Karsten)

After speaking to her I went to sleep but woke up needing some water. Slipping out of bed I made my way to her kitchen. I knew she would be sleeping by now and I would quickly grab a glass of water and return before being noticed by her.

But as I turned around, my body almost froze, finding her standing behind me trying to hold her laughter. Her eyes shimmered with the mischief of a teenager who had just found their teacher in their underwear and that too such an ostentatious one.

She was trying not to laugh out loud, but I could see this troublesome girl was not going to be able to hold it in much longer.

My eyes narrowed, and for the first time, I felt scrutinized under a female’s gaze. Her hand flew to her mouth and she doubled over as she burst out laughing so hard seeing me half naked and only wearing that ostentatious piece of garment.

"What?" I snapped at her with my eyebrows burrowed, but her guffaws only grew louder, not caring in the least that I was her boss.

That was the simplicity of Arata; she didn’t cower in front of me like other women. She certainly knew how to make moments light and revel in small joys, even if it included lending her clothes to her boss and then laughing her heart out seeing him look like a cartoon.

Taking gigantic steps forward, I towered over her, ending all the distance between us until I could inhale her flowering-scented perfume. My hands went to my hips, in an effort to look intimidating.

"Insane, we will never speak of it. If I hear you gossip about it with anyone and I mean anyone. Miranda, Chan, Ranold or anyone else, this won’t end well." I raised my finger and threatened her in the most threatening voice I could muster.

She quickly straightened and zipped her lips like a mime artist, and in that instant, I noticed the set of her flaming hair cascading all around her like the phoenix she was.

She must have taken off her wig and not expecting to find me, she had also walked out in her silk night suit without her glasses and fake black hair.

My bare foot tapped on the hard floor. Deliberately picking up a lock of her hair I twirled it on my finger and asked with my left brow cocked.

"When did your hair turn red?"

Some of the colour and that cheeky grin on her face suddenly disappeared as Arata realised the way of her errors. But she quickly recovered and blurted out trying to keep her voice calm.

"Just experimenting to see how black hair suits me before I change the colour."

Her hair was so soft, like velvet between my thumb and fingers, and I didn’t wish to let them go, knowing how beautiful she looked with them widespread underneath her while I buried myself in her softness.

My eyes instinctively dipped, and I noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her night dress; her nipples poked out, inviting and pointing.

The sight instantly sent blood rushing to my balls, hardening me down there.

Damn! Why did she have to be so sensual?

Without knowing, I was taking in gulps of oxygen, breathing in as much of her essence as my greedy heart wanted.

As always, Arata refused to back down; the defiance in her eyes spoke volumes as she requested.

"Can you not tell anyone?"

I tilted my head slightly and saw her take a deep gulp. There was hardly any distance between us, another step and my naked chest would be touching her heaving one.

I affected her although she tried not to show it and always kept this bold façade going.

"We generally say please when we make such a request," I sarcastically answered, my eyes refusing to waver from her deep blue ones, such depths they held like vast, deep oceans.

"Please!.... Sir," she dramatically gave a pause, twisting her lips. This girl and her dramatics.

"It seems like we have a deal. I won’t speak about you wearing a wig and you won’t say anything about these hideous shorts you offered me."

Her forehead wrinkled in annoyance, and her brows came together.

"Hideous? These are my favourite shorts."

Her hands were occupied by the jug and her cellphone or she would have placed them on her waist while stubbornly staring at me.

"I don’t see the appeal," I twisted my lips, still not wishing to let go of her hair.

"Of course you don’t, all you like to wear is black, bland and dull colours, lacking life." She shrugged her shoulders while making a clicking sound with her tongue.

This girl and her bratty mouth. A strand of her hair was still in my hand.

"Forgive me if I don’t like to wear something with strawberries on them," I countered and her eyelashes fluttered at me.

"Says the guy in strawberry underwear," she snorted, making my anger surge. She wasn’t even done. "What’s wrong with strawberries? They are delicious."

Every word she said not only flared my temper but also gave me a hard-on. I had just discussed with her how I was going to take her on a bike ride and fuck her brains out later, and now all this proximity and her insistence on discussing strawberries was not benefitting my case.

"They are for eating, not to be put on underwear," I emphasised, our eyes locked and heartbeats syncing, our chests almost touching. One more step and her pointed peaks would touch my bare chest.

"I beg to differ, fake boyfriend," she said flatly. She made no attempt to remove the lock of her hair from my hand.

"Are you always this infuriating? Girlfriend, or did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? If I was your real boyfriend I would have kissed you until you would forget to even form words." The urge to touch her smooth face was real, my eyes wouldn’t stop staring at her slightly parted lips. Their taste forever fresh in my brain.

Would she push me away if I were to claim them, then and there and shut her up?

Something shifted in her demeanour, though; the boldness suddenly soured.

"Glad, I am not. Since you have plenty of others to practice kissing." This time, she pulled back, and I could sense the disappointment washing over her. Her lock of hair slipped out of my hand, the loss of their touch left a hollow ache in my heart.

Did she want me to kiss her?

Did she feel the same tension that I felt?

"Good night, Sir. Hope you have plenty of strawberry dreams." She turned and moved away, her strawberry-shaded hair bouncing behind her as her perky ass moved, so inviting that I wished to grab her and bury myself inside her velvety softness.

My eyes didn’t waver from her receding figure until she disappeared into her room and tightly shut the door behind her.

’See you on Saturday, Arata. I will hold onto that kiss,’ I murmured before proceeding to the guest room to get some sleep with such hard-on.

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