by Nicki Elson
The Taft-hottie flushed an appealing shade of crimson as he nodded to the room at large.
“Mr. King has been an associate in our Taft-Hartley division for the past two years and has shown particular prowess in investment manager analysis. He’ll be heading up the manager recommendation team and will be joined by a senior analyst who’s never let me down. Alyssa Bates.” Beecher raised his hand, gesturing toward Lyssa. She doubted the flames burning her cheeks appeared half as charming as Hayden’s blush, but she nodded back to those offering nonverbal congratulations. When her gaze landed on Carla’s bright grin, she relaxed.
Lyssa wasn’t surprised she’d been chosen, Beecher had hinted at it the prior week, but her assignment as investment manager specialist hadn’t been expected. Reporting was more her expertise, if she had one.
“I’ll meet with all of you over the next few days to discuss reallocation of workloads,” Beecher said. “But right now, I’d like just the Delicious Hawaii team to stay. Thank you for your time.”
The conference room filled with murmurs and the shuffling of chairs as most of the analysts cleared out. Team Pineapple moved to one end of the long table. Beecher laid out a rough schedule for the next several months, including a meeting that had already been set for Hayden and Lyssa at DH’s local Chicago office the next day. As soon as the team was dismissed, Hayden and Lyssa looked at each other across the table. He tilted his head toward the corner with the coffee. She scooted her chair back and went there, refilling her cup while she waited for her new partner to circle the table and exchange casual greetings with other members of the team.
His captivating smile widened when he reached her, and she instinctively stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Hayden.” As their arms pumped, an enticing, musky scent enveloped her.
“Nice to meet you too, Alyssa.”
“Everyone except Beecher calls me Lyssa.”
“Pretty.” Hayden’s gaze flicked downward, then quickly back up to focus on her face, almost too intently. “So tell me, Lyssa, in your opinion, who are some of the top managers we should focus on as potential additions to DH’s program?”
“Shouldn’t we assess their current lineup before deciding if and where changes are necessary?”
“Changes are always necessary. So come on, give me two names right now.”
“I…well, Burgess Partners has done well for a lot of my clients, and same with S.I.M.”
“Has done well. But who do you see doing well for DH into the future?” His warm smile was gone. He folded his arms over his chest as he planted his feet slightly apart and fixed intense, blue eyes on her.
Though he was probably a few years older than her and a level above her as an associate, Lyssa bristled at his superior tone. “I’ll be honest—I don’t have much experience with manager analysis, and I’m not sure why Henry put me on this particular sub-team, but I’m a quick study and he seems to think I can do it. Apparently, you’re the one with manager expertise, so you tell me—who should we consider?”
Hayden shrugged. “I have no idea. Can’t make that assessment until after we review their current lineup.” Lyssa’s mouth dropped open, and she stood mute. “But I can tell you one thing—you ought to be more careful about what you stick in your mouth.”
“Huh?”
“The ice chip. You pulled it right out of that tub, which could be laden with God only knows what kinds of bacteria. I don’t want my assistant falling ill right in the middle of a big project.” He winked and relaxed his stance. “Let’s meet down in the lobby at eight forty-five tomorrow morning and head over to DH together. Wear a power suit.”
“What a dick.”
Lyssa nodded in agreement with her friend Trish’s assessment of her new partner. She’d filled her in while they sat at a neighborhood bar waiting for their friends Amy and JoAnne. When Lyssa had texted earlier with the news that she’d officially been named as one of the chosen ones, Trish had insisted they all get together for a celebratory drink—a carryover from their college days when they’d gathered to toast the completion of the last final each semester. Lyssa and Trish had been friends since their freshman year at the University of Iowa and now lived only a few blocks apart in Lincoln Park.
“Is Keith coming?” Trish asked.
“Uh.” Lyssa pulled out her phone and saw his message. “Looks like that’s a no.”
“Big surprise. What’s his excuse this time?”
“He doesn’t need an excuse to have his own life.”
Trish shook her head, making her sandy blond waves swish from side-to-side. “He needs an excuse to not celebrate his girlfriend’s major achievement.”
“It’s not an achievement until the job’s completed. Besides, he and I will celebrate our own way. Privately.” She grinned.
“Well, he better hope this new guy keeps being such an arrogant ass. With all the hours you’ll be spending with him, Keithy Boy might have someone else to worry about.”
“Or something.” Lyssa’s face warmed, and Trish shot her a quizzical look. “The vibrator—I love it! Thanks so much for giving Keith the recommendation.” She was loosened up enough from her nearly empty pint of Guinness that she may have gone on to tell the story of what had happened the night before, but the other girls walked in, so they moved on to happy chatter and another pint before heading home.
Once back at her small studio apartment, all alone, Lyssa decided she deserved another indulgence. After calling Keith to say good night, she pulled out her battery-operated friend. Running it at the lowest speed, she settled back onto the futon and trailed it over the outside of her pajamas. She pictured her boyfriend’s mouth roving over her, his fingers sneaking beneath her top, and then ducking under the elastic band at her waist.
As the speed increased, she imagined him picking up on all of her cues and doing things to her she was too embarrassed to ask for out loud. She envisioned him as unselfish and skilled at catering to her tiniest of whims. Panting and maneuvering herself out of her clothes, she continued her ministrations, and the fantasy took off. By the time she shuddered, rocked by pure bliss, there was no trace of Keith in her mind at all.
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About the Author
Nicki writes spicy fiction with a sweet and dreamy center. She does other stuff, too—like obsess over reality TV. Writing fiction wasn’t something Nicki set out to do; it just sort of happened when she realized writing reports was by far her favorite part of her investment consulting position. She traded stock allocation and diversification for story arcs and dialogue and now weaves her creative writing time in with the other activities of her busy life with her family in the Chicago suburbs.
You can find Nicki’s full collection of books at Amazon.