Nightie Night: The Lingerie Series (Stir Sticks & Stilettos)

by Hines, Yvette

  Nightie Night

  (The Lingerie Series)

  Yvette Hines

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission by the author.

  Nightie Night

  Copyright © 2013, Yvette Hines

  Proofing Editor: A. Jackson

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to eStore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Series Note:

  I hope you enjoy The Lingerie Series, a new short story edition of the “Stir Sticks & Stilettos” series. This line of the SS&S will feature the voluptuously, lovely, full-figured heroines of different ethnicities that are confident, successful and not ashamed to flaunt their bodies in alluring lingerie paired with sexy mouth-watering heroes as so many of my readers have requested. These little nuggets of erotic shorts are meant to excite you, at the same time, give you a little happiness at the end. Stay tuned for the next stories to follow.

  Love is not a sprint but a marathon and the gift of it is given to those that endure to the end.

  “Finally,” I proclaimed.

  “Kalan, I thought we’d never finish these preliminary audit reports.” Aaren Reston exhaled a loud breath as he leaned back in the chair that he’d pulled to the other side of the coffee table across from me while we worked.

  “Six weeks on any project is way too long.” Uncrossing my legs I let that foot fall hard against the floor and shoved my fingers into my hair. The topknot I had quickly pulled the loose strands into four hours ago was probably a mess. I had given up worrying about my looks during the long nights Aaren and I had been sequestered in his office.

  However, the man across from me didn’t have the same problem. No matter the grueling hours, he always looked hot and sexy. I allowed my gaze to take in his appearance. Aaren normally wore a suit and tie, looking immaculate. Now his tie was discarded on the top of his desk and his jacket was draped on the back of his chair. At six foot four, his broad shoulders and strong body had all the women in the uptown corporate office sighing when he walked by. His dark brown hair and light green eyes just made him even more irresistible.

  Aaren was one of three senior executives in the Pace Men’s Select corporate office in Charlotte. The big boss had given Aaren the task of going through all the one hundred and forty-seven stores’ records for as a pre-audit. Now that there were going to be major changes coming up in the company with the shareholders having an outside auditor coming in at the end of the month, Mr. Pace wanted an internal one performed first. The boss didn’t want any surprises he said. I had been shocked when Aaren came to me requesting my assistance. I would have thought he'd go for my supervisor, senior executive of accounting, but that wasn’t the case. Sharene Stone had told me I was a specific request by Aaren. Until we started the project six weeks ago, I didn’t realize that Aaren even knew I existed. There was no reason he should since we worked in two different departments.

  Sharene made it plain to me that if I did well on this project, there would be a promotion in the works for me—district manager with more stores under my watch. If that wasn’t reason enough for me to dive in with both feet, the opportunity to work up close with Aaren was definitely an incentive.

  It was two years ago when Aaren was brought on board at the corporate office. He’d come from doing sales at one of the big soda manufacturers in Charlotte. I would never forget the day I had brought breakfast in for a co-worker and he walked into the Human Resources office to complete his paperwork. The man had looked like he’d just walked out of one of the company’s catalogues as a model. Tall, handsome and dressed well.

  Dragging my eyes away from the mouth-watering man, I leaned forward and picked up my cold coffee. “Mr. Pace never considered having a few less big men’s formal and casual wear stores.”Sipping the drink, I winced; when hot, the salted caramel mocha was sublime, cold, it was appalling.

  Aaren chuckled. “I’m sure we are both tired of the faithful diet of coffee. I know my stomach is starting to eat me from the inside out, hyped up from the caffeine.”

  I laughed. My food intake had been at an all time low since starting the in house audit. Forgetting myself, I took another swig of the coffee and winced again. “Yuck. I forgot the horrid brew was still in my hand.” I set it down and pushed the mug toward the center of the table.

  “How about I treat us both to dinner?” He pointed an accusing finger at his cup. “Something a little healthier and tastier.”

  My mind played an image of me sitting in a restaurant at an intimate table for two, the lights low as we stared at each other over candlelight. The image morphed into me wearing the wrinkled blouse and pencil skirt I currently had on and my hair looking like a bird had landed in it and attempted to make a nest. I blinked and cleared the vision.

  “Um.” I rubbed my hands down the front of my skirt, hoping to press out some of the creases in it. “I’m not really presentable for public dining.”

  Damn, I didn’t want to blow my chance at a pseudo date with Aaren but I had to be honest.

  “Perfect. I don’t feel like driving around either or fighting with Friday night parking in the Queen City, so we’ll order in.”

  I stared at him for a moment then looked down at the papers and laptops with our completed graphs and PowerPoint. When we had work, it was easy to occupy my mind and keep from drifting into erotic fantasy land but with the job done and nothing for us to talk about over food I was hesitant.

  “You don’t have other plans tonight, do you?”

  Tonight was family game night at my parents' house, but I had already informed them I would not be there. So, technically I was free. “Not really. I have time for dinner.”

  His smile was bone melting and spine tingling. “Great. Do you like Italian? That’s the only thing I happen to have on speed dial for long nights.”

  “I love it.”

  He rose and went to his desk. “To be honest, the only reason it’s the only thing in my phone is because it is my favorite.”

  I laughed. “Mine too. From pizza to ravioli to spaghetti and everything in between.”

  Pulling a tri-fold from his desk, Aaren crossed back to me and handed me the menu. “Pick whatever you want.”

  “Let’s see.” I made myself stare at the food items instead of at the strong, wide hands of the man beside me. Those hands with their blunt fingertips and neatly trimmed nails. I loved a man that kept himself groomed. Not in an extreme metro-sexual way, I didn’t want him pretty, just one that cared for himself. The thought of those hands palming and squeezing my breasts or holding my ass had my sex throbbing. With him standing so close, I had to press my thighs together and not squirm.

  He sat next to me. “I love their veal scallopini with mushrooms.”

  The warmth of his body so close to mine had me wanting to moan. He wasn’t even touching me, but the right side where he sat was honest-to-goodnes
s tingling as if every cell in my body had flooded there and was reaching toward him. It made no sense. I’d never been this mentally and physically attracted to any man. Not even my first love when I was in college. What was it about Aaren Reston?

  “That sounds really good.” I looked over the items slowly, repeating each name in my head just to keep my imagination from roaming.

  “If not that then their lasagna rivals anyone’s.” He pointed at the item on the menu causing his finger to brush the tip of mine.

  I’d been a fool to believe that it was not possible to feel sexual desire from a light touch in a non-sexual place. Because desire sizzled down my arm from the place of contact and blazed a determined trail to my pussy. It was as if he’d stroked my clit. Shit, I was in trouble if I stayed for dinner.

  Glancing at him, I saw he wasn’t looking at the menu as I suspected but at me. He was in the process of scanning my body. Sitting beside me, he could see the swell of my cleavage in between the parted fabric of my blouse and possibly a hint of the magenta corset I was wearing. I believed a girl had to enhance her figure whenever possible. Especially when you were a thick woman you had to ensure all your curves were always on perfect display.

  When his gaze rose and met mine, I saw how his light green eyes had darkened to almost a forest green. That look excited me. Over the years we had worked together I always believed our attraction was on one side—my side. However, I couldn’t mistake the look he’d given me for anything but interest.

  “Kalan?” His tone was thick and husky.

  My name came out like a caress from his lips. I lowered my eyes to those thin, firm lips, a pale pink color, and wanted to lick them from corner to corner.

  He swallowed. “Have you decided?” he asked in a calm voice.

  I wasn’t sure how he’d pulled that tone off and gotten himself under control so fast when I felt like I was going insane with lust. Yes, I had decided, I wanted to get to know this man and having a meal with him was perfect place to start. “Lasagna. I’ll have the lasagna.”

  “Perfect. I’ll do the same.” Rising, he crossed the room in a steady strut.

  I enjoyed watching the play of muscles below his shirt and the round tightness of his ass. My palm itched to stroke them and feel the firmness.

  Grabbing his cell phone from the edge of his desk where he’d tossed it earlier, he called the restaurant. He chatted for a moment with the owner or whoever worked there proving that they were familiar with him, a regular customer.

  “That’s two.” He laughed, tilting his head back and giving a deep rumble. “No, Gino I’m not that hungry. A lovely lady has actually agreed to eat with me.” He glanced in my direction and winked. “Next time we’ll come in.”

  A warmth of joy spread from my core up and through my arms and leg then surrounded my heart. Next time. Since this was technically the end of our assignment together and we were from separate departments there wasn’t any need for us to ever work with each other, definitely not see each other. However, his words let me know he considered possibly seeing me on a personal level. I hoped.

  “I guess you’re a first name basis regular?” I said when he ended the call.

  Sitting on the edge of his desk, Aaren folded his arms over his broad chest and looked at me. “Yes, I am. I found the place when I first moved here from upstate Maryland. I’ve been eating there for at least once— No, I’m lying— Twice a week since then. Lunch or dinner. So, I know that it is family run. Gino and Ammalina have been married for forty years with five kids between the ages of nineteen and thirty-six, all of whom work there. The oldest two are married.”

  “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten faithfully at a place to know more than the person’s name behind the counter and they can tell me my coffee and pastry order.”

  He shrugged and glanced down at the floor, crossing his feet at the ankle. “I like good food and the family environment.”

  I wished he wasn’t so far away. I had enjoyed him sitting beside me, but there was technically no reason for him to be so close again. Damn.

  “So, what would Gino and his wife be able to say about you?”

  Lowering his hands, he placed them on the desk and pushed himself away. “That I work too many long hours.” He moved back toward me but claimed the chair on the other side of the table instead.

  “I can’t lie and say that’s me. I come in early most times to get a jump on things, but this internal audit.” My hands waved over the table full of print outs, graphs and our laptops and I said, “Has given me new evening hours and put my life on a bit of a hold.”

  Titling his head, he gazed at me. “Really? So, what would Kalan be doing on a Friday night if not stuck here with me?”

  “Arguing with my family.”

  His brow furrowed and he slowly lifted an eyebrow and sat back. “You and your family don’t get along?”

  Even though his tone was neutral, something in it let me know that he had some problem with people that didn’t get along with their family.

  “Oh, no.” I laughed just thinking of my family and the anarchy that would be going on in my parents' living room even now. “We’re too close. All of us still live in the area and get together often. But we are highly competitive like Christmas flag football 'championships'.” I made quotation marks in the air. “Game nights and everything else in between.”

  “Wow. How many is it of you all?” He ran his hands through that thick brown hair of his and a short lock escaped and fell on his forehead.

  The need to reach out and twirl it around my finger assailed me. Refocusing on his question, I continued, “Probably twenty-six with all the kids and grandkids included.”

  He lowered his gaze to his hands now in his lap then glanced up, I could see that his light green eyes were bright but held a shadow in them. “I’d always wanted to have a big family. I guess that’s why I was drawn to Gino and his.”

  “Is your family not close?” I could understand how that could happen, my friend Oriana was a perfect example of people being from the same bloodline but were as distant as strangers. For me I didn’t know what I would do without my family in my life. No matter how crazy we got at times.

  I wanted to know more about this man. His office had a painting or two on the wall, his two degrees were framed and hung, but other than revealing the colleges he’d gotten his undergrad and masters at, I knew little about him. There was a picture on his desk beside his computer but it faced the direction of his desk chair. I figured it was a picture of his dog or a family portrait like the ones that graced my credenza. Anyone that walked into my office would be able to see the smiling faces of the Henderson clan.

  “Well, small would be the best way to think about it,” he began. “It’s just my younger sister and I. We are really close, especially since we lost our parents when they had gone on a mission trip to rural parts of Argentina. My sister and I were all for it. Our parents had said they wanted something to do with both of us out of the house and living our lives. They were only supposed to be gone for a month that turned into five because they enjoyed the work they were doing there. Somehow they had gotten a small tear in their mosquito netting, didn’t know it and one night they infected with malaria during a severe outbreak. Apparently, Mom and Dad had been giving their medication to the children there thinking they would be okay because they were so up to date on their vaccines. That wasn’t the case.” For a moment, he turned and glanced toward the window into the night lights over the city.

  I could see the shadows now overtake his eyes. I slid to the edge of the couch wanting to go to him, but I didn’t. I was unsure if he wanted to be comforted or deal with his grieving alone. Some men were like that, not wanting people to know how deeply they were affected by something. Loss of one’s parents would never go away, I was sure.

  Needing to let him know I was here, I reached across the table and laid my hand on his knee. “How long ago did it happen?”

  Aaren inhaled, his ches
t expanding wide then let it out slowly. He glanced at my face then down at my hand. Covering it with the heat of his, he squeezed it as if thanking me. “Three years ago.”

  “Is that why you decided to move to Charlotte?”

  Scooping up my hand, he held it in his own as he leaned forward. Almost as if he realized the stretched position I was in would be uncomfortable for me. It was, but I would have stayed like that as long as he needed me. I liked the fact he was still holding my hand, possibly needing a connection to someone as he spoke.

  “No. I was tired of heavy winter snow and wanted to move south just not too deep in the south.” He used his other hand to begin tracing my fingers, up and down and around the tips.

  It tingled and tickled some but I enjoyed his touch, very much.

  “I had considered changing my mind and had stopped sending out my resume. However, it was my sister that convinced me that our parents would not want me to put my life on hold for them. My sister said we could find another way to remember mom and dad.”

  “She sounds like a smart woman.” I was finding it hard not to moan at his soft touch.

  “Very. I didn’t send out anymore, but three months later, I got a call from Mr. Pace who asked if I was still available. He told me about the position and paid for me to come for an interview and tour the home office. He was very persuasive so I came on board, deciding my sister was right. Now, once a year we honor our parents by going back to their favorite restaurant in our home town.”

  “I think that is a perfect way to honor them.” I squeezed his hand below mine.

  He smiled at me. We sat like that for a moment, him holding my hand and gazing into my eyes.

  Under such close inspection, I thought I probably looked rough.

  “So, tell me about these football—”

  The ringing of the office phone cut him off. Releasing my hand, he moved to the far end of his desk and picked up the phone.