What Lola Wants

by Calista Fox

  As he pulled away, she was eternally grateful he kept his hold on her, because she almost toppled over. She was still wearing her Mary Janes, after all. And her body was still limp and relaxed.

  She’d tasted herself on his lips and it excited her, the reminder of what he’d done to her tripping through her mind and keeping her sexually charged.

  More danger there.

  Lola knew it. So she forced a smile and moved away, when all she really wanted was to fall back into bed with Alex.

  “Thanks for the fun night.” She blew him a kiss… then blew out the door.

  Interestingly, her brain really did churn with myriad thoughts that centered on the sexy Staci Kay ad campaign. So she hadn’t lied to Alex about wanting to capture the thoughts coming at her hard and fast. After packing away their mostly uneaten dinner, she grabbed her laptop, fired it up, and settled into her bed, her fingers banging out a number of ideas on the keyboard as the creative juices ran rampant—thanks to multiple orgasms.

  Maybe hot monkey sex was just the boost she’d needed to truly get her marketing groove on.

  * * *

  Alex did bicep curls as Pete joined him at the free-weight station the next morning.

  “Got a few extra pounds on that barbell,” his friend noted.

  “Feeling particularly Man o’ Steel–like at the moment.”

  “Oh?” Pete’s blond brow shot up. “Any reason why? And does her name start with ‘Lo’?”

  Alex grunted. “She’ll pretty much be the death of me, I have no doubt. But what a great fucking way to go.”

  “This is headed in a very risky direction, isn’t it?”

  Between reps, Alex said, “She wears lingerie designed to send a guy into cardiac arrest. And those shoes. Christ. I’d let her wear them to bed.” He gave a sharp laugh. “Hell, I already have.”

  “So there’s a bed involved?”

  “And the couch. And the living room floor. Gimme a few more days, and we’ll have the entire condo covered.”

  “Holy shit.” Pete eyed him while Alex finished his set, then returned the barbell to its rack. “Are you pulling my dick, or did you really nail Lola?”

  “Let’s not call it that. She’s still my best friend. We just had sex. She wanted the whole friends-with-benefits thing. Who was I to say no?”

  “Indeed.” Pete let out a disgruntled sound. “But, dude, you’re not doing yourself any favors by caving to Lo this time. She considers you two friends. You’re in love. That leads straight to clusterfuck, Lola Vonn–style.”

  “Story of my life, or anyone’s really, with Lo. But goddamn.” Alex whistled under his breath. “There’s a reason why I can’t get enough of that woman.”

  “Yeah, well, you do realize this will turn out badly for you. You two aren’t exactly on the same page romantically. Or in general.”

  Alex reached for his towel and wiped the sweat from the nape of his neck. “I couldn’t help myself. She came on to me. In what world could I ever turn her down?”

  “I’ll give her the stone-cold babe factor, sure, but—wait.” Pete shook his head. “She came on to you? Like I’m supposed to believe that, man?”

  With a snort, Alex said, “It’s true. One forceful shove, and I ended up sprawled on the sofa with her on top of me. And let me tell you, that was not a bad position to be in, my friend.”

  “Fuck.” Pete’s jaw fell slack.

  “Yeah. And it was off the charts,” Alex told him. “As in, it even blew my mind, and I’ve had wild fantasies about her since the seventh grade.”

  The only downside of the entire unexpected encounter was that Lola had slipped out much too quickly. He’d wanted her to stay the night. In his bed.

  With Lola, he wanted sex and everything that came along with it. He’d also wanted to be inside her again first thing this morning. But she’d silently established boundaries around their little arrangement.

  Hot sex only. No sleepovers.

  Alex wasn’t inclined to let her set all the rules, but for the time being, he’d grant her an adjustment period for their FWB scenario. He was damn glad she wanted him. So he could suck it up for a while. See in which direction this took them, what more he could finagle out of her and the sexy situation.

  “Well,” Pete said, clasping him on the shoulder. “I guess I’m supposed to say ‘congratulations’—especially after all this time. But it feels more like I should be preparing to give my condolences. This is Lo we’re talking about. Try not to forget it.”

  “I hear you. But if you’d been a fly on the wall last night… you’d know why I’m staying in hot pursuit of her.”

  Pete told him, “I’m up on the treadmill. Why don’t you guys come by the bar for dinner tonight?”

  “I’ll let her know. Not sure what she’s got going on after work.”

  “Tell her if she doesn’t stop by to see me soon, I’m gonna be pissed.”

  “She knows. Go do your cardio before someone snags the machine.”

  “I’m out. Talk to you later.”

  Alex went back to his own workout, finishing up with leg presses. Then he showered, dressed, and drove to his office in Scottsdale. He had a nice setup on the tenth floor, with windows and a view of the McDowell Mountains.

  He’d worked for Neiman Industrial Risk Insurance since college, starting as an intern and then sliding into a special agent position after graduation three years ago. He’d built a great client base with a nice profit margin for the company, but some of his insureds had taken financial hits during the economic downturn and hadn’t renewed their policies with NIRI.

  So Alex was on a mission to pimp his portfolio again and hopefully keep his head off the chopping block as the company “reset” its workforce. That was a bullshit term for layoffs. He didn’t want to make that death list. He had a mortgage and a two-year-old Volvo S60 to pay for. A sleek, yet safe and practical car for a safe and practical guy.

  He snickered.

  Safe and practical, my ass.

  Twenty-four hours after Lola had barreled through his front door, he’d taken her up on the FWB proposition. And Pete had been right at the gym. It wasn’t the smartest thing a dude in love with his best friend could do.

  Focus, man.

  His thoughts shouldn’t be on Lola and red-hot sex. They should be on saving his butt and his financial future from a reset.

  Chapter Five

  Lola had to force herself not to bounce anxiously in her chair as the Marketing team went around the table, giving their status updates. She’d quickly learned it was done in order of seniority, not priority of projects. Despite her ad campaign being at the top of the list, she was low man on the totem pole. Thus, she’d be giving her updates last for some time to come.

  Especially since Mark had explained they weren’t planning on adding anyone new to the department anytime soon. In fact, he’d been more than happy to tell her that there’d been no openings when she’d been promoted into the department. They’d made a special concession for her, following her bold campaign pitch.

  She’d known that already, and she’d considered that it might be the reason for some of the animosity flowing her way. That and the Legally Blonde stigma she’d suffered since high school—most people treated her as though it were her hair and breasts that got her through life. She recognized what she thought was the familiar scrutiny from her new coworkers.

  Only Maxi had cut her slack from the get-go, on Lola’s first day at the Baltimore office.

  She’d sauntered over to Lola’s desk, propped a hip against the edge, and insisted, “Let’s reiterate your name, unless you’re okay with everyone calling you ‘Barbie’ from here on out.”

  “‘Lola’ will suffice,” she’d said between clenched teeth. Yes, she’d heard the whispers and snickers, even though she’d already been introduced around.

  Maxi had laughed good-naturedly. “That’s really not much better, but all right.” Then she’d announced to the fishbowl that was the O
perations division, “Listen up, people. New girl’s name is Lola. Remember it.”

  She’d winked at Lola and had marched off to her office. Lola had stolen a peek at the name stenciled on the wall next to the door and the title beneath it. MAXI SHAYNE. OPERATIONS MANAGER.

  Lola had had no idea what that particular position entailed, but she’d liked Maxi instantly.

  In Scottsdale, the jury was still out on whether she’d mesh with Sarah, Jen, and Mark, as well as Tiff the admin, Jake the manager, Tom the director—who planned to retire next month—and Todd the VP.

  ’Course it didn’t help matters that Lola hadn’t exactly been the shiny new penny yesterday as everyone had trampled on her campaign idea. She couldn’t exactly hang her new colleagues out to dry for not rolling out the welcome mat when she’d flailed so miserably.

  She hoped today might be a different story, though.

  When it was finally her turn to speak, excitement fluttered in her stomach like a million butterflies taking flight. Whatever Alex had done to her last night seemed to have unleashed some creative force within her that had left her awake the majority of the evening, battling through a rash of thoughts that had all crystallized in the shower this morning.

  She might be going way overboard here, but what the hell did she have to lose? Lola hadn’t gelled with the team yet and she hadn’t impressed them at all yesterday. She might be shipped back to Baltimore or she might lose her job with Staci Kay altogether, but if there was one thing Maxi had taught her when she’d convinced Lola to pitch her campaign, it was the very simple concept of no guts, no glory.

  Lola Vonn had guts. In spades.

  So she jumped without a chute.

  “I really loved all the ideas from yesterday’s meeting,” she said, her gaze flitting around the table as she made eye contact with everyone in the room. “I realized there was something missing; that the concept wasn’t fully defined. But…” She frowned. Sparing a glance at the VP, she asked, “Is it okay if I stand?”

  He nodded.

  “Thanks. I think better on my feet. It’s the shoes.”

  Sarah actually cracked a grin. A shot of confidence helped Lola plunge forward, though her nervous anxiety had her pacing the conference room.

  “The thing is,” she continued, “I made a mistake with this ad campaign.”

  This admission appeared to take the group by surprise.

  She rushed on. “I latched on to the in-charge female and wanted that concept to permeate the entire campaign. However, I realize I’ve pitched a dominatrix idea—a woman in control in the boardroom and in the bedroom. Empowered by her shoes. Now, I’m not saying the shoes don’t empower. If I were standing here in front of you in Target flip-flops, I wouldn’t feel any confidence at all in this particular environment.”

  The others uttered their quiet agreement.

  “These shoes,” she continued as she gestured to her red suede peek-a-boos, “complete an image for me and they make me feel successful. Even when I falter. They help me to pick myself up and dust myself off, so to speak. Try again. Not give up.”

  Her gaze landed on Sarah. “What you said yesterday makes sense. And I get it. But it dawned on me this morning that one woman taking charge of a boardroom isn’t necessarily a good thing. Because one mind, versus three or five or ten, doesn’t encompass the big picture. I didn’t see the big picture. Until you all pointed it out to me.”

  Jen sat back in her chair, looking impressed—hallelujah!

  Mark nodded slightly.

  Sarah still kept up the unwavering gaze.

  Lola let it roll off her back.

  She said, “I loved the idea of Staci in her stilettos, rocking a baby-doll nightie and carrying a riding crop to whip the big bad world of business and romance into shape. But then I discovered that, while I like strutting into a bedroom wearing sexy high heels, I don’t always want to tie my guy to the bedposts and have my way with him.”

  The VP’s brow crooked.

  Okay, touchy subject matter.

  Total TMI, but she had a point to make.

  She thought of Alex’s aggressive throw-down. What a huge turn-on that had been!

  “What if I want him to be the aggressor, because he’s taken one look at me all dolled up for him and fire flashes in his eyes? Not to mention, he spews wine from utter shock and excitement over my lingerie and high heels? What if I don’t want him bound and submissive, because I want his hands and mouth on every inch of me?”

  Lola forced herself to retain the eye contact despite how personal she was getting. “I want to be able to initiate and be assertive, sure. That’s exhilarating, and I want that to be a part of this campaign. But I also want him to do the same in return. I want him to see me in these shoes… and have to have me this very instant.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Jen murmured.

  “I went in the wrong direction,” Lola conceded. “I mean, maybe not totally in the wrong direction. There’s some good stuff in the campaign I pitched and some value-adds from what you all contributed. But there are more angles to consider. When a very structured man is completely blown away by a woman in a sexy chemise and purple Mary Janes—that’s powerful. And when he’s super-OCD and a germophobe, yet still tells her to leave the shoes on in bed… Whoa.”

  A wicked thrill moved through her as she thought about how hot it’d been with Alex last night.

  Her boss got to his feet. He pinned her with an indiscernible look. Lola couldn’t breathe for a few moments. Her excitement died rapidly on the vine.

  She’d gone too far, hadn’t she?

  Her heart sank. Damn it, she was not going to win this game!

  But the head honcho suddenly grinned and said, “Write that on the board, Lola.”

  Her pulse skyrocketed. “Really?” They were allowing her to write on the sacred board? On Day Two?

  “Do it now before it slips from your mind,” he insisted.

  “Yeah, Lola,” Jen said with a nod of approval. “Write it on the board so you don’t forget.”

  Her hand shook as she reached for the marker and added the potential slogan under the spot designated for her project.

  “Leave Your Shoes On.”

  She turned back to the group, emotion welling within her, making the corners of her mouth quiver. Marketing was her dream, after all. Any way she could rock this promotion, she would.

  Dragging in a slightly shaky breath, she asked the team, “You like it?”

  “Fucking love it,” Mark said.

  The others concurred. Even Sarah.

  Todd said, “Tiff, get the ad agency on the phone. We want them in first thing Monday morning.” To Lola, he added, “We have until then to nail the details. This is your campaign—come up with more ideas. Give us a solid plan.”

  The group dispersed. All but Sarah left the conference room. She sat back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. She was the petite, math-club type Alex would go for. Maybe that was why she intimidated Lola, in a sense.

  “Not bad,” Sarah said.

  “Thanks. I had help.”

  “We never call the ad agency this fast,” Sarah told her in her fast-paced, clipped tone that reminded Lola of the gravely serious, overachieving Paris on the TV show Gilmore Girls.

  Continuing, Sarah explained, “They’re expensive, and they’re not as invested in our mission as the employees are. Staci believes the heart and soul of the company lies within the company. Marketing conceptualizes; the ad agency brings it all to life, producing the end result. She’d like us to have our own Production division someday, when we’re a bit more robust. I think she’s got the right idea.”

  “Makes sense,” Lola agreed. “I took an admin job in Baltimore just to work for her. I moved myself when I barely had the money to do it. That’s how much it meant to me to get a foot in the door.”

  Sarah actually smiled. Not a radiant one, but it was a start. “You were pretty overwhelmed yesterday. You bounced ba
ck like nobody’s business this morning. I like your new theory. It still embraces the concept of strong, independent women empowered by sexy shoes. But it also demands equality—a balance. That’s downright awesome. And smart.”

  She collected her notepad and multicolored pens and stood.

  Lola boldly asked, “You want to have lunch sometime?”

  Sarah let out a half-snort. Shook her head. Then gave another reluctant smile. “Sure.”

  She left the room.

  Lola did a fist-pump and whispered, “Yes!”

  Feeling particularly pleased with herself, she spent her lunch hour surfing the Net for a car to replace the rental. Then she called Alex.

  “Hey,” she said when he answered in his studious, professional voice, not his sexy bedroom tone. Still, it turned her on. Perhaps because she knew there was a whole alternate universe happening in his condo…?

  She asked, “Doing anything after work?”

  “Pete wants us to come by for dinner. The longer you wait to see him, the more his feelings will be hurt.”

  “Wouldn’t want that. But first, I’m gonna visit a car dealership. I found a beautiful powder-blue BMW that’s a few years old, but I can afford it now. Want to meet me there? I can turn in my rental on the lot.”

  “You don’t exactly need someone to negotiate price, options, and zero-percent financing for you, Lo. I’ve witnessed your negotiating tactics on numerous occasions—even most recently, when you tackled me.”

  A tingle along her clit made her shift in her chair. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “I’m not going to argue the tactic—I totally got off on it.”

  A scintillating sensation shimmied through her. “It was the way you kissed me that got me going,” she said softly into the phone, so no one who might be in the office rather than out to lunch would hear.

  “Well, yours came unexpectedly. I didn’t have time to curb my own reaction.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a low groan. “That was hot.”

  “Agreed. Now… it’d be nice to have some muscle behind me at the dealership.” She gave him the address, and he told her he’d meet her there at six.