Fancy Free

by Shelley Munro

  “I still don’t know why we need this new one,” Joseph Craig grumbled. “We’ve got glow-in-the-dark ones, different sizes, flavored ones and who knows what else. Why do we need to develop more? Who wants another condom?”

  James sighed. Alicia had been able to explain everything to the board, discuss things in old-fogey terminology. The elderly board members didn’t like change. Sometimes he wondered how Alicia had talked them into their investment in the sex industry, although he had to admit they showed more interest and asked insightful questions these days. “Our opposition brings out new products on a regular basis. If we want to keep our market share, we have to do the same,” he explained in a calm voice. Some days he felt like a damned parrot.

  A cough attracted his attention. Alice’s face had turned bright red. “Are you all right?” he asked, although James suspected the reason for her unease. Her gaze focused on the photo of their newest condom design. Stretched out in all its glory over a fiberglass penis, the X-100 looked high-tech and very impressive.

  Alice nodded vigorously and reached for a glass of water. The tremor of her right hand brought a self-conscious frown. “I’m fine. Please continue.” What on earth was she doing here? She pushed a lock of hair off her face and wished she could fan the fiery heat from her face. And she still didn’t understand why her godmother had left her the condom company at all. When she’d attempted to ask her parents, they’d brushed her off with excuses about church and religion. Even the lawyer Mr. Bellbooth had said he wasn’t sure of her godmother’s reasons, but did it really matter? An unladylike snort emerged.

  “Is something wrong?” James asked in a husky voice.

  “I’m fine. No problem.” She barely halted the telltale shiver of bliss at the sound of his voice. As one, everyone turned to stare at her and that heightened her awareness of the wretched man. This was ridiculous. How could an almost virgin run a condom company? She had no experience to draw on. She could hardly count her one time at university as experience. The heat in her cheeks intensified even farther when she sneaked a look at the photo on top of the folder. Half expecting a voice to shout, “Off with her head,” she swallowed and wondered if they’d notice if she ran from the room. Oh dear. Her gaze wandered to the photo again without waiting for her brain to give permission.

  The condom was a delicate violet color and had tiny raised dots all over the surface. It looked like an alien creature with chicken pox. There were certainly alien appendages attached. Hard to say what that round bit did. Dragging her gaze from the photo, she turned her attention to James’ run down of the product and the current state of play. Tests. Trials. Okay. She supposed that made sense. They had to know if they worked properly.

  But how did they conduct the tests?

  Her mind went into overdrive as she visualized a typical condom trial. A man and woman naked on a huge bed while a man dressed in a white coat stood with a clipboard, snapping out pertinent questions and ticking off the questions in his survey. How did the latex feel? Did it fit to the penis correctly? Was it too thick? Too thin? Was it big enough to catch semen? Did it stand up to vigorous thrusts? Is there significant loss of sensation?

  A tight band constricted Alice’s chest, affecting her breathing. Her bra felt way too tight. She furtively tugged at the underwire of her bra while a wave of heat engulfed her body. She squirmed about on her chair, warmth growing in her nether regions because of her sexual thoughts. Alice bit into her bottom lip. Questions. She had them, but nerves and uncertainty made her hesitate. A sharp inhalation did nothing to steady her. This was stupid. She had a vested interest in this condom company and had every right to ask questions. “Um, how do you conduct trials?”

  “We ask for volunteers, dear.” The elderly lady in the seat next to her stopped her knitting to lean over and pat her on the hand. “Thankfully, our team of volunteers likes sex.”

  “That’s after our special machines are used for the initial tests,” an elderly gent added.

  “Oh.” Alice bit her lip again. None of the elderly board members seemed embarrassed while nerves caused her stomach to twist tightly enough for all of them. It was that man’s fault. He made her think very naughty thoughts and totally forget about her problems with Steven. Her gaze speared to him and clung.

  James Bates.

  His husky voice and good looks had spilled over into her dreams last night. She could barely look him in the face after she recalled her nakedness, wantonly sliding her well-endowed chest across his face. Begging for it. Begging for him. Tension gathered low in her belly when she recalled the exquisite sensation of his mouth when it closed over her breast. He’d drawn her nipple deep into his mouth and sucked hard until she felt a corresponding tug in her… Pussy. Pussy. Huh, she might as well think bluntly since she’d certainly dreamed in Technicolor with no holds barred. He’d stripped his jeans and white cotton shirt off and displayed tanned muscles. Smooth skin. And a huge erection. Alice groaned and imagined his cock and how it felt sliding deep into her body. Or at least she tried, since she remembered only the barest mechanics and sensations. She shifted on her chair and sighed, her feminine flesh pulsing. It had been so long since that one foray into sex. Maybe it was time to explore again?

  “Are you really all right, dear? You look a little flushed.” The knitting lady again.

  Alice jerked back to the present to find every one of the six board members staring at her again plus the admin lady, and worst of all, the manager James Bates. He wore a grin, almost as if he knew what she’d fantasized about and relived only seconds ago.

  Oh my. Steven was right. Her morals had fallen by the wayside. She was a wicked woman and was going to hell. Realizing she had yet to answer, Alice blurted, “Fine. I’m…ah…focused on the business.” And how. If she concentrated on sex and condoms any harder, she’d self-combust. An X-rated version of Alice in Wonderland. Who’d have guessed?

  “How’s the security?” Richard Morgan asked. “Have we had any more breaches since we installed the security cameras on the roof?”

  “The alarm hasn’t been tripped, but we’ve had a lot of problems on the production line recently. Missing supplies, and Scott, the floor manager, discovered someone had changed the settings on the packing machine. Most of the boxes packed this week went out one condom short. Of course we only found this out after they’d left the warehouse. We’ve had to recall them.”

  “More money off the bottom line,” Sam Glengarry muttered, fingering his chin in a thoughtful manner. “Not good.”

  “We’ll have to set up covert cameras on the floor.” Richard frowned. “I didn’t want to do that.”

  “We’ll do what we have to,” Katarina stated. “Besides, I want to buy a red coupe with my next payout. Can’t do that if we don’t have profits.”

  “Red?” Ben asked. “I’d get a black one. I heard on the radio today that the most desired car color in Britain is black.”

  “Humph,” Katarina said. “It’s a bugger to keep clean. Fingerprints all over the paintwork. There’s nothing worse.”

  “Can we get back to condoms?” James demanded with a trace of impatience.

  Joseph Craig nodded, even though his mind was clearly on bonuses. “That’s a bit rough. Too much money invested in the X-100. We must sort out our security problems before the public gets wind of it. Can’t have the consumers’ confidence in the integrity of Fancy Free’s products dented.”

  Everyone around the table nodded. The board moved on in discussions.

  Rita Jamieson, the admin lady, produced a life-sized penis made of fiberglass from a padlocked wooden box, placed it on the table and competently rolled on a teal green condom with purple dots. Harriet Te Whare glanced up from her lime green and canary yellow knitting. “I’m not sure about the color selections.”

  “Rubbish,” Ben Kumar stated. “Purple is the new black. I suppose we could have black dots since that color is so popular on cars.”

  “Of course we’ll have several colors
,” James said. “A matching palette. These are just two examples.”

  “I’m more worried about the design.” Joseph Craig accepted the model from Rita and surveyed it from all angles. “And I’m still not sure about these dots. What have the people in the trials said about comfort?”

  “The raised dots are fine. Do you have another one there, Rita?” Rita rolled a condom on a second penis model and handed it to James. He ran his fingers over the dots. “I’ve used it myself. See the way they move when I touch them? It’s like a mini massage when it’s in use.”

  “But they’re much bigger than our regular raised dots model,” Joseph argued. “We need to use extra latex in the design because the dots are larger.”

  “No. We have the right amount of latex. Pretend my hand is the woman’s vagina. See how the dots fan outward like tiny brushes?”

  Alice stared, her mouth pursed in astonishment and partial shock as he showed the rest of the board how the new condom functioned. His fist acted as the woman’s vagina while he used his other hand to thrust and demonstrate how the raised dots worked. They didn’t bat an eyelid but paid close attention and asked intelligent questions. Alice leapt from one shock to another and learned more about the theory of sex and the practical application of condoms in the course of the day than she’d soaked up in all her twenty-five years.

  But she managed to make it through the day. Just. It felt as though the heat controls of her body were firmly stuck on hot and fiery. Her mind drifted in the gutter with her supremely conscious of James Bates. Big and male, his crotch seemed level with her face for a good deal of the time while he stood to demonstrate various things for the board members. She had never felt so conscious of her body in her entire life. Her nipples felt more tender than normal, brushing with exquisite friction against the sturdy cotton bra she wore. She would never think about condoms and sex in the same way again. Never.

  By the end of the day, Alice needed a drink. Too bad if Steven didn’t approve of women and alcohol. Besides, he’d given up all rights when he’d walked away. He wasn’t there to see, and in this day of firsts spent in the Sloan rabbit hole, what did a few more steps on the wild side matter?

  Chapter Three

  Instead of returning home to the bed and breakfast on Griffin Street, Alice turned right into the main street of Sloan and marched through the front doors of The Thirsty Cricket pub before her courage deserted her. Outside, darkness started to fall since they’d worked until seven. Dinner. She could have dinner here and a drink or two to calm her ruffled nerves.

  She bowled straight up to the bar with neither a left nor right glance and waited for the barman to finish serving his current customer. She stared at the array of bottles behind the bar and ignored both the interested gazes and the drunken chat-up lines from the table of men over to her right. Elvis sang about being someone’s teddy bear. His husky voice poured from the loud speakers and wrapped around her like a comforting cloak. Her first visit to a real pub rather than a café, and one without Steven.

  A day of firsts turned into a night of firsts. The feeling that she’d strayed into a rabbit hole and had entered a parallel universe heightened.

  “Gin and tonic please.” Alice climbed onto a barstool and handed the man a ten-dollar note when he placed the drink on a cardboard coaster in front of her. After a sniff of her drink, she took a cautious sip. It tasted great, clean and crisp with a hint of lemon. Very refreshing. It cooled her parched mouth, and when she rolled the glass against her cheek, it acted like an ice pack, a diffuser for the heat in her face. She took another sip then another until only ice cubes remained. She set the glass down and thought about her extraordinary day.

  Condoms.

  The flush in her cheeks returned when she recalled James asking her what she thought of the X-100.

  “Like another?” The barman straightened from stocking the small chiller behind the bar.

  Alice thought about it for seconds before nodding. The second drink tasted just as delicious as the first. Steven would have kittens if he saw her at a bar. Not that he had a say when it came to how she spent her time. He’d given up that right when he’d walked away without a backward look the previous day. Alice thought about that, about his pompous, conservative attitude, and fifteen minutes later, she ordered a third gin and tonic along with a whiskey. The amber color looked attractive but the strong, peaty scent gave her pause. Cautiously, she sniffed it again, screwing up courage to try the new drink.

  Time to try new things and experience sin.

  No time for hesitation.

  Alice tipped back her head and swallowed a healthy mouthful. It burned all the way down her throat with a fiery heat that spread rapidly through her belly. A harsh gasp of shock escaped. Fire water indeed.

  “Hello, are you on your own? Mind if I join you?”

  Her head whipped around and her mouth fell open for long seconds before she realized she gaped in an unattractive manner. Her teeth clicked together with an audible clunk.

  James. Mr. James Dangerous AKA Dashing. Alice felt her eyes widen even as she struggled for breath. Potent stuff that whiskey. Her heart pounded in an erratic manner. After experiencing the same erratic thud for most of the day, she should have become used to it. She hadn’t, and each time the sensation seemed to create more havoc, especially when an infuriating internal shimmy accompanied the thud. The man—this man—drove her to distraction. She couldn’t even indulge in the sinful pastime of drinking without his intrusion. Maybe she should just rip open her suit jacket, her blouse and heavy-duty bra and offer him her body.

  She groaned when the thought registered fully. Whoa, where had that come from? As if she’d have the guts to offer herself to Mr. Dashing. Alice glared at the remains of the whiskey on the bar in front of her. What on earth was she doing here?

  She didn’t fit.

  Steven was right. She wasn’t cut out to inherit a condom company.

  “I thought you had enough fun at my…my expense to…day.” She formed her words carefully. Funny how much energy it took to talk. “What do…do you th-ink of the X-100, Ms. Beasley?”

  He had the effrontery to grin. “You’re in the condom business now. You’ll have to get used to our discussions.”

  “Are they always so…so frank?” Alice avoided his gaze. The wretch looked so pretty he made her temperature rise each time she glanced at him. And his sexy dimple… But she’d have to deal with him if she wanted her inheritance. The money. She was in this for the money, she reminded herself. Yeah, she admitted it. Six months. She could handle six months but only if she kept her distance from this disconcerting man.

  James shrugged and gestured at the bartender for a beer. “It’s a serious business. All the board members have invested money and want to make the best decisions they can for the company.” He watched her closely until she felt as if she were under a looking glass. And the whole time he wore that infuriating grin on his face.

  “It’s not my fault this is all new. Anyone would find the frank discussions cause for embarrassment.”

  His eyes narrowed in speculation. “How new?”

  A pregnant pause highlighted the question. Alice gnawed on a bottom lip that felt sore and tender while she considered how to answer. “I’m an almost virgin.” The words burst from her, and horrified, she picked up her glass and slurped down the remnants of whiskey. It didn’t taste much better the second time and a burn seared all the way down her throat. She coughed and spluttered.

  “Go easy. You’ll choke if you’re not careful. Here. Have some beer. It will soothe your throat.”

  Alice eagerly accepted the glass of beer and chugged it down. “Tastes good.”

  “I’ll get another one,” he said, his tone wry when she lifted his glass to her mouth again. “How the hell can you be an almost virgin? You either are or you aren’t.”

  Horrified, she turned to stare at him. Oh my goodness. She’d told him. She’d really told him.

  James gestured
at the barman and ordered another beer before turning back to her with a grin. “So what’s the answer?”

  “I refuse to tell.” Why would she bare her soul to him? He was practically a stranger. A sexy stranger, who if rumor could be believed—as per this morning’s paper anyway—had a parade of beautiful, leggy women strutting through his bedroom. Alice glanced down at her cloth-covered knees with a rueful sigh. No way did she qualify in the leg department.

  James Bates wasn’t the right man for someone who wanted security. She had to remember that and try to ignore his pretty face and sexy smile.

  Steven…ah, Steven didn’t seem to want her, or at least he refused to speak to her on the phone when she’d rung him at midday. She frowned. They’d dated for over a year. They had so much in common. Alice had thought she’d known him well and couldn’t believe his sulks. She wanted, needed, a partnership, someone she could rely on one hundred percent, a man who held the same values she did. A secure future with no financial hiccups. And a man who stood at her side—no matter what.

  Alice picked up one of her glasses and peered at the dregs. She placed it back on the bar and picked up a gin and tonic. Steven had fallen down on the last item. She glanced at the man beside her. Nope, that man didn’t look like Steven.

  James brushed against her arm when he shifted on his barstool and every one of her senses went on high alert. She smelled his citrus and spice aftershave and heard each one of his deep even breaths. A heavy sigh drifted past her lips while her gaze zapped back to study his sexy mouth and his sparkly blue eyes…

  He was so pretty.

  Oh boy. Eyes front. There was obviously something very wrong with her. Every inch of her skin tingled and her mind drifted to sex with alarming ease. She consoled herself with the fact that anything sexual rated as work-related. That sort of helped with her guilt except she kept fantasizing about sex with James. Close and very personal sex.