by Nicki Elson
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Note from the Author
Acknowledgments
Sample Chapter: When It Hooks You
Preview: When It Holds You
About the Author
Cover
Title Page
When It Hits You
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Nicki Elson
Copyright Information
When It Hits You, Copyright © 2017 by Nicki Elson
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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This book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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First published by Swoon Romance as Vibrizzio, 2015
Published by Nicki Elson, January 2017
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This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this book can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
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Published in the United States of America
Cover and Book Design: Coreen Montagna
Dedication
This one goes out to my Godmamma, MaryAnn Keough. Her compliments that my writing is “raunchily hilarious” gave me the confidence that maybe, just maybe, I could pull this one off. How did I do, Aunt Lou?
Chapter 1
LYSSA’S BACK ARCHED, and something between a gasp and a moan clambered up her throat and out into the darkened room. She laughed and let her head fall to the pillow, closing her eyes to exhilarate in the pleasure that had just commandeered her body for those few, luxurious moments.
“Having a good time?” Keith asked, stepping through the bathroom doorway and buttoning his jeans around his lean waist. “Y’might want to turn that off now.”
“Huh?” Confused as to how he’d managed to bring her to climax from way over there, Lyssa only now noticed that her hand was still vibrating. Flicking off the device, she reached for the tissues on the side table. “What’s going on? When did you leave?”
“Seriously?” He scowled as he rummaged around the collection of clothing on her floor. Straightening, he pulled his “Wookies Rule” T-shirt over his short, dirty blond hair and covered his skinny torso. “I left when you kicked me off the bed.”
“What?”
“You grabbed that thing out of my hand and swatted me away every time I tried to kiss or touch you, and then you got your freakishly strong thigh between us and shoved me to the floor.”
Lyssa settled back into the pillow, listening and now remembering. She broke out into a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry.”
“Glad you think it’s funny.” His mouth, slightly too wide for his narrow face, curved downward.
“Aw, don’t be mad. Come here. And take off those stupid clothes. I can’t snuggle with you with your jeans on. No more kicking, I promise.
He gave her a teasing snarl, making a pretense of thinking about her request, and then stripped down to his navy blue boxer briefs before crawling across the futon bed and flopping onto his side. Brushing her dark brown hair off her shoulder, he nestled close, touching small kisses to her neck. “You don’t love it better than me, do you?” Keith had bought “it” two months earlier on the one-year anniversary of their first date.
“Of course not,” Lyssa said, even as she made a mental note to buy more batteries the next day.
“Did you really not notice I’d left the room?”
“What? Don’t be silly. Of course I did.” She hadn’t, actually, but she didn’t see how telling him that now would lead to falling asleep anytime soon, and she had an early meeting the next morning. The boss was going to announce the team for Project Pineapple.
“I don’t understand why they’ve got to make such a big deal out of this,” Carla said through a half-stifled yawn. “Why don’t they just pull the chosen ones into the manager’s office, plop the extra workload on them, and be done with it?”
Standing with Carla at a back corner of the conference room, Lyssa shook powdered creamer into her disposable cup of scalding coffee. “This project is on an entirely different scale than anything the firm has ever done before. Not only is the Pineapple fund huge, they want to revamp their entire retirement plan. It is a big deal.”
Nearly every seat in the large, glass-walled conference room was taken as Fox & Keaton Investment Consulting’s senior analysts gathered. Project Pineapple was what they’d all begun calling Delicious Hawaii, the firm’s new account. The company dealt in canned fruits and vegetables of all kinds, but pineapple had been their first claim to fame, thus the nickname.
“So then…remind me why we’re all hoping to be picked,” Carla said. “Cuz you know nobody’s getting a raise out of this. Just extra work.” Her super-short, ebony hair, always perfectly styled when the girls went out to the bars, now flipped up on one side, where Lyssa guessed the pillow had pressed it to her head.
“High profile, baby. So we’ll look good when an associate position opens up.”
“Right. And why do we want to be associates?”
“Because that’s when the money kicks in.” Lyssa winked and tapped her Styrofoam to Carla’s cup.
They were distracted from their conversation when an associate from a different department strutted into the conference room. Though he wasn’t particularly tall, his confident smile made him seem ten feet high. Lyssa and he had never met, but she recognized him—any warm-blooded female who’d ever laid eyes on him would: piercing blue eyes and thick waves of nearly black hair, clipped short but with longer wisps arranged in purposeful carelessness across his forehead. His suit, no doubt expensive, hugged his honed physique, and his walk appeared more like a glide as he moved across the room to claim one of the vacant chairs near the head of the table. He had no need of the swill Lyssa and Carla poured down their throats because he carried a tall, lidded cup from the gourmet coffee place in the building’s lobby.
“Shit!” Lyssa hissed as she burned her tongue on the corporate-issued coffee. Lifting an ice chip from the vat of orange juice cartons, she placed it on her stinging taste buds and slurred, “Why he here?”
“The Taft-hottie?”
“Translate.”
“Taft because he works in the Taft-Hartley department, and I think the hottie is self-evident.”
Lyssa’s eyes drifted back toward the Adonis in Ralph Lauren as the ice melted and slid in cold streams down the side of her tongue. “If he w
orks in that division, why’s he at a meeting for a corporate account?”
When he shifted his attention in her direction, Lyssa flicked her eyes toward the clear glass wall and pretended to study the cluster of workspaces just beyond the conference room. Over the top of a high cubicle wall, she saw the slicked back, silvering hair of the vice president of her division as he made his way to the room. She nodded toward the long table, indicating to Carla that they should grab seats. They had to separate, with three other analysts between them.
“Good morning, everyone,” Henry Beecher said as he entered the room and moved to stand at the head of the table. Two managing consultants trailed in behind him and stood off to the side. “I appreciate you all coming in so early. I know the stir this new client has caused around here, and I understand that being given this assignment will be viewed as an honor—as it should be—but that’s not to say we don’t value the rest of you, as well. We’re relying on you to keep the company’s normal operations running smoothly while the new team focuses on DH.
“With that being said, I’ll dole out assignments for Delicious Hawaii.” He motioned for one of the consultants to stand beside him and then named two senior analysts to work with her on asset allocation. The other consultant then stepped up, and Beecher announced the analysts who’d work with the IT department on report design. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed the new addition to our conference room—Hayden King.”
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.
Lyssa bristled at his superior tone. The dude might outrank her, but he couldn’t be more than a couple of years older, and she refused to be talked down to. “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?” He’d knocked the poise right out of her.
“The ice chip. You pulled it 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 Amy and Jo 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 confining 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.
Chapter 2
BEFORE SHE’D COMPLETED her rotation through the revolving door, Lyssa spotted Hayden in the expansive lobby of their riverfront office building. The late summer sun’s beams had emerged over the rooftops across the river and cut through the glass of the front wall, making everything inside shine and sparkle, including, it seemed to Lys
sa, Hayden’s gleaming smile.
As she approached, he put forward one of the two lidded cups he held. His eyes sparked with energy. Not a dark, wavy hair on his head was out of place—except for the ones he intended to be.
“Thanks,” Lyssa said, taking the cup. She’d already gulped down an entire carafe of coffee before leaving her apartment, but she had to admit the gesture was nice. “You’re inappropriately cheery for this time of day, aren’t you?”
“I’m a morning person. Always have been. There’s just something exhilarating about the promise held within a new day.”
“You mean the promise of all the things that can potentially go wrong?”
He tilted his head and gave her a chiding smirk. “Nervous about meeting the new client? Nothing to worry about—you’re with me. I always make a brilliant first impression.”
She thought “brilliant” was overstating it and opened her mouth to say so but decided against it. Instead, she took a sip of coffee. “Egh!” she groaned after forcing the thick, sugary liquid past her tongue.
“What’s wrong? It’s a mocha. Don’t you like chocolate?”
“Chocolate, yes, not a saccharine syrup that pretends to be coffee. And not first thing in the morning.”
“Oh, come on. I saw how much creamer you dumped into your coffee yesterday.”
Lyssa narrowed her eyes. As she stared at him, his grin relaxed, and the roundness at his cheekbones morphed into sharper angles. One of his thick eyebrows rose in question of her silent scrutiny.
“I think this partnership will work better if you stop noticing every little thing I do,” she said.
He chuckled. “I can’t help it. It’s what I do, and it’s what makes me so good at investment manager analysis—I pick up on the small details others tend to miss.”
“Okay, well, stop pointing out my small details. It’s creepy. And for the record, I like cream, not sugar.” Something about this guy put her on edge. He was too sure of himself. But she was stuck with him for the next several months, so until he proved himself untrustworthy, she’d make an effort to lighten up.