Try Me (Seven Tech Tower Book 1)

by Amanda Richensexi

  Unless...

  Oh, boy, this was surreal. What was happening? One minute she was nobody, the next she was at the front of the line? Apparently, all it took to attract an unobtainable man was to expose a cornucopia of sex toys to him.

  “Hold on,” she panted, as out of breath as if she’d been running. She fell to her knees and rifled in the zippered pocket of the backpack. Moments later she was punching her phone.

  “Calling someone?” he asked curiously.

  She felt compelled to explain. “Texting. Look, I’ve seen you around but I don’t know you.” She input: Sorry for bothering you. That man Conn you were talking to is here in my apartment building. Why would he be here?

  She said to Conn, “I might not hear back for a while, so you might as well—“

  But the text from Charli Almatto came in almost immediately.

  He’s there? Tell him hi. I told his sister to apply for an apartment there.

  That explains it, Wendy wrote back. What do you know about him? She regretted the question immediately. What I mean is, he wants to come in. Is he a serial killer?

  Charli wrote back: I don’t think so. His parents are old college friends with Draken’s cousin Matthew’s mother. If he turns out to be a scary serial killer, I will totally report him for you.

  Wendy bit her lip. She didn’t think Conn was a serial killer, but she had been hoping Charli would discourage her from doing anything rash.

  Then a text came in...from Draken Almatto. Oh, crap.

  Conn is tracking down which competitors are responsible for those social media attacks on the Robasm. His rep is golden. His security clearance is executive level.

  He’s ATJ staff? she responded, hoping Charli hadn’t told the CEO that she was considering letting Conn into her apartment.

  Contract basis. His specialty is defending against corporate manipulation of social media. I’ll vouch for him. If he hurts a hair on your head, I’ll cut off his dick. Here, I’ll tell him now.

  No! She had the terrible feeling she was too late to stop Draken from contacting the man who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, watching her fumble with her phone with open amusement.

  Another text came in—a thumb’s up emoji from Charli.

  Damn her. She knew Wendy was a virgin. She should be advising caution, not egging her on. Wendy didn’t hide what she was; practically everyone in the world knew it. What had happened to the general policy of protect all virgins and children? Were virgins no longer useful to society anymore?

  And suddenly the phone was snatched out of her hand and Conn was scrolling through her conversations. His lips quirked. But when he handed back her phone and started inputting a text into his, Wendy sprang up and tried to take it. It was futile. Tall as she was, Conn was way taller, and stronger, and he had no trouble blocking her by putting his back between her and his phone.

  Eventually he just handed it to her. She read the text he’d sent to Draken:

  No need for dick threats. When I saw what was in Wendy’s backpack, I knew we had much to discuss. Wendy and I are going to work on her special project tonight. I may be late getting those screenshots to you.

  She also saw Draken’s reply before he did: LOL

  “Oh, my god,” Wendy said blankly. “You just told my boss you’re going to…and he...”

  She heard voices on the stairwell. That’s when she realized they’d been having this entire conversation out where anybody with their ear pressed to their door could hear them.

  She cut herself off, got her front door open, scrambled to get her stuff inside, and without letting herself think too much about it, hustled Conn Milidonis inside, too.

  He went willingly.

  And contrary to her fears, he did not leap upon her and rip off her clothes.

  It was all ridiculously normal and weird. Still, a rush of nervousness roared through her for the next hour. Conn helped her put the groceries away. He commented on her shelving system and listened to her explain that due to her CAD work history, she had a “thing” about assemble-it-yourself shelves and could only bring herself to use shelves that she, herself, had custom built. Conn nodded as though this was the most normal thing in the world. And watched her keenly.

  She toasted some pepperoni and mozzarella on bread and crisped some egg rolls and while they were eating, after gearing up the nerve, asked him about the date he had been supposed to go on tonight. She'd overheard a good portion of his phone conversation, not that she shared that.

  He told her the bare minimum. He said Cheryl worked in a beauty salon and they’d gone on a few dates and were no longer dating as of tonight. She asked if he was heartbroken.

  “No,” he confirmed.

  It all seemed too simple. “What are you not telling me?”

  “Things that are not relevant,” he said smoothly. “Where did you get that dress? A church sale?”

  “Why aren’t they relevant? I made it.”

  Watching her, he said slowly, “Because there's little point to talking about exes. I’ll naturally tell you my side of the story, putting a sympathetic spin on my role, painting myself as a saint, and her as insane. And you’ll be left wondering if it’s true. You made that dress? The whole thing? Yourself?”

  “Yes, from vintage fabric I got online. I even made the sash—see? So she’s insane...she seemed pretty normal to me.” Wendy admitted, “I, uh, may have noticed you together once or twice.”

  “Did you? She did seem normal, even nice, until she turned out to be bonkers.” He sat back on the chair with his hands locked behind his head. “I’d rather not talk about other people. I’d rather talk about that dress.”

  She considered him. He could be lying or trying to deflect her, but she suspected he was on the up-and-up. Still, she reserved the right to investigate his claim later.

  “What about the dress?” she demanded.

  “It’s very...concealing,” he drawled in that steam-laden voice. “Cute, though. And I’m thinking it would be great to get it off of you soon.” He pushed out his chair and stood up. When she saw where he was headed, she rushed to get to the backpack before he could.

  “This stuff is for work,” she insisted, while his words echoed through her mind: It would be great to get it off of you soon. Just the casual, offhand way he’d said it, all unsmiling, made her heart pound, her nipples contract, her vulva bloom, her feet tingle, and her esophagus close up.

  Also she might be about to have a stroke.

  “I believe you,” he soothed, eyeing her as if he knew all of it. “That doesn’t mean you can’t take pleasure in your work. Hand over the backpack, Wendy.”

  “You should know something important and relevant,” she told him in a panic, clutching the backpack behind her. “I'm a virgin. Everybody at ATJ knows. The only reason you don’t already is because you’re not a regular employee and I’ve never talked to you before. If I had I’d have told you immediately that I was a virgin. I see no reason to hide it. It’s there. It’s who I am. A virgin. Like Athena and Artemis and Hestia, have you heard of Hestia? For trivia buffs, she happens to be one of the lesser-known Greek virgin deities. Not that I’m a deity. Or is it hubris to assume you’d think I meant that? I don’t want you to get the impression that I believe myself a goddess. I’m just a virgin. One of many. In the world.”

  He stood there, frozen, through her entire speech. “A virgin.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a virgin.”

  “I am.”

  “Who designs sex toys.”

  “Who is working on mods for a sex toy in one of the failed lines, yes,” she corrected him. “I have an excellent spatial sense, and sex toys are like fittings for plumbing. I cut my drafting teeth on plumbing. You see, I’m hoping that if we—I refer here to myself along with the engineers and product designers who dictate all the specs—can get the product up to scratch, then Draken will be impressed and I’ll get a chance to design toys for men. Guys are seriously un
derserved and I figure I have a greater chance of making inroads in underserved markets. So you see, I’m not in this for the titillation. It’s more the technical challenge and career opportunities that hook me.”

  Somehow she managed to plug up the word-hurl and shut up.

  Talk about protesting too much.

  Conn’s face was back to that impassive, android look. “I see. Well, being a virgin doesn’t stop you from testing out the product.”

  “The one I’ve been working on the most isn’t one I’ve personally tested. I haven’t used any of ATJ’s products. I’ve only used one sex toy in my life, a simple inexpensive bullet vibe, and frankly I wasn’t impressed. Perhaps I’m not interested in sex.” She met his skeptical gaze openly. “That’s what my last boyfriend thinks. He dumped me when he found out I wasn’t interested in not being a virgin with him ever.” She read his incredulous expression, replayed her own words in her mind, and wondered why he wasn’t running, screaming, for the door already. She was such a weirdo. She translated, “I didn’t want to have sex with him now or in the future, all the way to infinity.”

  She saw his tongue poke his cheek. “You’re saving yourself for marriage?”

  “I’m saving myself for good. When I find something good, I will partake of sex with great relish.” She shook her head. “All the people I know are always settling for shitty or less shitty just so they can say they did it. I don’t care if I do it. But I care if I’m happy.”

  She’d told him the complete truth about why she was a virgin. Usually she allowed people to think whatever they wanted to about her.

  He nodded, and she drew in a breath as the heat in his look. “That’s pretty potent.”

  “Potent? Did you say potent?”

  “Mm.”

  “What is? What’s potent?”

  “Given everything you’ve told me...that you let me into your apartment. That you’ve been waiting. That you’re going to hand me that backpack and take off your dress for me. I’d even say it’s intoxicating.”

  “I...didn’t say I was going to do that.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that you will.”

  “That’s pretty cocky of you.” Omigodomigodomigod...

  He pursed his lips. “I prefer the term ‘confident.’”

  “And you base your confidence on...what? The fact that you’re good-looking? Rich?” She flicked a hand at his tailored suit jacket. “Brainy?”

  His eyes gleamed. “No, goody-two-shoes. I base it on smelling your desire.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Wendy

  “WOW.” SHE BACKED UP, so flustered she didn’t even bitch at him when he reached around and deftly unburdened her of her backpack. “Huh. All right. I don’t know what to say to that. Ew?”

  His smile was slow. “You may be a virgin, but you’re not innocent. You know what I’m talking about, Wendy.”

  He was certainly blunt. “Smell means nothing. Nothing.”

  “On the contrary. It means your fragrance is...seductive and you should take off your panties. What are they like? Full of frills? Those puffy things that go to the knees?”

  “Bloomers?”

  “Yes, sure, I guess, bloomers.”

  “No, I—hey.” He was dumping out the entire Thruslo line onto the seat of her armchair. The sight of this tall man kneeling on the floor, rummaging among dildos, restraints, and other strategically designed items, made her knees shake.

  She hadn’t lied. She wasn’t tempted by toys.

  But this was the guy she squirmed to alone in her bed as she imagined him fucking a woman. Not that he would ever know.

  “These are kind of boring,” he said, holding up a double-penetration device with nice, clean lines. “This is all part of an Almatto collection? Nothing really stands out to me.”

  “That’s the point. The line was a bust. The mechanisms are actually clever, it’s the design that needs pizzazz. Take this one, for example.” She crouched down beside him, trying to ignore his laser stare. From the pile of gleaming exotics, she selected a tiny, strappy device. “This one is insanely effective and was the most expensive to produce. Engineers and machinists from Sweden and Japan got involved...it was supposed to be the lead product in key markets, the loss leader in others. It’s called the Clitesqua. But it’s completely uninspiring with virtually no eye appeal. It lacks oomph.”

  “Effective.” He jumped on the word. “How would you, personally, know about its efficaciousness?”

  “Well, I don’t, personally, but market research shows—”

  “Screw market research. What do you think? Does it give earth-shattering orgasms?”

  Conn was so close. He had turned to lean against the front of the chair and now they were facing each other with only inches between them.

  “I think I’m reserving judgment until I have further data.”

  “Then let’s gather some data,” he murmured. “Tell me what it does, this Clitesqua.”

  His eyes...she couldn’t look away.

  “It’s a clitoral manipulator.”

  “A vibrator?”

  “No, no, not at all. Its lack of vibration is a selling point. It—you see it clasps to the thighs with these—these straps—they're very soft and strong—and these latches here open up the labia—that’s the lips of the female genitals”—she pretended not to see his amused look—heavens, as if he didn’t know—“and the mechanism goes to work on the clitoral bud with five independent functions.”

  “And those would be...?” His husky voice sent shivers through her.

  “Squeezing, stroking, let’s see, twisting, dabbing, and...and...oh, yes, of course, pumping.” She swallowed. “The videos are impressive. Women have reported climaxing in as low as four point two five minutes. And the great thing is, it can be worn almost anywhere. Seated, standing, running, clothed, nude, in water…”

  “Try it.”

  “What?”

  “While we’re talking, you might as well try it out. It has batteries?”

  “Rechargeable. And no, thanks.” She wondered if an oxygen tank would help her pump air back into her lungs here.

  “Does it need lube?” His eyes sparkled. She could not tell what he was thinking, beyond sex and laughter.

  “Uh—no. Only for the stroking function, but for safety’s sake, it won’t launch unless there’s sufficient lubr...uh...I don’t know if you heard me. I said no to trying out the sex toy.”

  “Are you sure about that? If you’ve only seen it in action from a distance, how can you be sure it’s spiffy enough? If lube is a problem, I guarantee you I can help you wi—"

  “No!” she choked. “That is, no, I’m not sure...I mean...hmph.”

  What had gotten in to her? Her usually sharp mind was fuzzy. The words were on the tip of her tongue: I need more lube like bees need more honey. Lube is not a problem for me right now. Nope. Not with me fisting my hands so I won’t climb you. I want you so much my vagina pains me. I’m howling inside. Help. Me.

  She pressed her lips together to stop the words spilling out.

  He made a tsk-tsk sound. “The device sounds too good to be true. I’d like to see what it can do for myself.”

  She managed to clear her throat. “You want to watch the videos?”

  “No. You know what I want.” His look was stern. “Come on, Wendy, give it a whirl. For the team.”

  “You’re lying. This is not for the team.”

  “Correct. It’s for you and for me. But we have to tell Almatto something. After all, I promised him we’d get work done tonight.” He raised those wickedly arched brows. “Do you need help fitting the thing onto your thighs?”

  Okay. That did it. She wasn’t a blusher, but today she was blushing like she was born to blush.

  He bent forward until they were nose to nose and she could feel his warm breath. “I’ll help you get it on. Once we get it going, we can forget it. We’ll have some wine, talk, get to know each other better. If you like, I’ll even r
un over to my sister’s and see if I can filch some of her salt pork marinara sauce. You have pasta, don’t you, to go with your pepperoni?”

  “Uh…” Was he staring at her mouth? Yes, he seemed very focused on it. “You want to get to know me better.”

  “Oh, yes. I want to get to know you much better. Something tells me, prairie girl, that we have a lot of ground to cover between us …”

  Conn

  WENDY LABRUCE WAS PRETTY damn cute. How could he have been so blind? Sure, he went for beautiful women, and Wendy wasn’t remotely beautiful. She looked like a militant Puritan. But she didn’t act like one. She was easy to turn on. He wasn’t lying about smelling her. She sat there staring at him with big eyes full of need, her skirt bunched around her legs, and he knew if he lifted that skirt right now she’d not only let him but spread her thighs for him.

  But he’d assumed she was just like everyone else. And she wasn’t. He had to admit, a lot of the employees he’d met at ATJ were out of the ordinary. But Wendy was in another class altogether.

  And that bowtie mouth...the need to take a taste was irresistible. But something stopped him. She was shy. Skeptical. Undecided. Deliberately virginal. Getting her past that into a firm fuck me, please state would be a challenge.

  He kept his expression neutral, even though the pressure in his pants was anything but. His cock was demanding more and more of his blood supply the longer he crossed swords with her. Casually he shrugged out of his jacket and threw it on the seat. She watched his every move. And looked at his chest. Repeatedly.

  “Come on, Two Shoes. Lie down on the floor across my legs.”

  She scowled at the “Two Shoes” and, predictably, didn’t move.

  He smiled placidly and plucked the Clitesqua from her hand. “I get it. You don’t want me to fuck you. I won’t. Promise. When I leave, you’ll be as pure as you are now.”

  His use of the word fuck didn't go unnoticed by her, he observed. She squirmed. “I never said I was pure.”

  “Oh, but you are. Lie down. Now.”

  He wasn’t surprised when she did it. She was hesitant, but aroused. Most of all, though, she was curious. She was openly fascinated by him. It was sweet and charming to be the object of that curiosity.