“Come on, Grant. Don’t be a wuss,” Penny teased.
Mia had never heard him laugh and had only seen a semi-smile maybe once. She never understood how someone could be so miserable all the time. This guy was in desperate need of help. Sex, drugs, liquor. There had to be something that loosened him up.
She always had the feeling that Grant hadn’t wanted to work there to begin with. But they’d needed someone at the same time he needed a job. He was the son of a friend of Bryn’s mother, and they’d hired him as a favor. He’d had trouble finding a job fresh out of college with zero experience and offered to work cheap. But from day one, he’d seemed unenthused about working in a women’s lingerie shop. And maybe they’d screwed up by teasing him a bit too much, treating him like a kid brother rather than an employee, a relationship he obviously wanted no part of.
He set the check on the counter and held out the pen. While Bryn gathered her toys, Mia took the pen—Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Cowardly Lion skipping down its length—and signed. The pen, along with the majority of his office supplies, paid homage to his love of all things Oz. And that was all they really knew about him.
“Thank you.” He grabbed the pen and check and turned back toward his office, but stopped. “And just for the record, I think this custom toy idea is horrendous and unprofessional. Is this really the reputation you want for your business?”
“Oh, come on. Lighten up. Maybe you should try it. You might like it.” Bryn took a small tube of something from the counter and picked up Grant’s hand, closing it into his palm. “Use this next time you eat a girl out. It’s tingly for her and tasty for you. I know you like coconut.”
He opened his palm and looked at the tube in his hand, then at Bryn’s smiling face. Keeping his gaze on hers, he slowly flipped his hand over, letting the tube fall to the ground. “No thanks.”
Mia clamped her mouth shut, tears filling her eyes. Penny snorted and slapped her hand over her mouth. He was barely out of view before the three women could no longer contain their laughter.
“Oh, he needs a good fuck, bad!” Bryn said. “Mia, wanna volunteer for the job?”
“Oh, no. These days I only have sex with prescreened models with a minimum penis size of six inches. He may be a huge you-know-what, but I’m thinking he doesn’t have one.”
Another burst of giggles.
“Hey, ya never know. It’s always the ones you don’t expect that have the nice big cocks.”
“I can hear you!” he yelled from his office, which just made them laugh even more.
Poor Grant. It was so wrong to enjoy torturing him so much. But he kinda deserved it, being so stiff. He needed to loosen up. If he stayed tightly wound like that, he’d have a heart attack for sure. So actually, they were helping him . . . though he probably didn’t see it that way.
CHAPTER Five
Mia threw on her hot pink sweatshirt for the third time in a week and headed out the door. After her nights with Ryan and Logan, a roller coaster of anxiety, she wasn’t looking forward to her next interview. She’d had a one-night stand and a one-night . . . what should she call it? A one-night fondling? Regardless, she had experienced two different penises only days apart and lived to tell the tale.
But now she had to move on to the next guy on her list. Should she go the Logan route and just do the external interview? But what if that wasn’t good enough? Ugh. This was so difficult.
Interviewee number three was tall, dark, and handsome—the typical hot guy. This one wanted to meet at Applebee’s. She really didn’t care. As long as it was a public place where she could at least get some kind of first impression before taking him back to her place, she was happy.
Monday night at this neighborhood bar and grill was hopping. Apparently it was ladies’ night and the bar area was littered with women sipping pink drinks with strawberries perched on the rims. Mia found an empty stool and sat down.
“Can I get you the special?” The bartender smiled and winked. “A strawberry pomegranate martini?”
Her gut fluttered a bit. No. She would not be wooed into buying a crazy expensive drink because some cute bartender flirted with her. “No thanks. Maybe just a glass of wine.”
He came back moments later with a glass, strawberry on the rim. “Are you Mia?”
“Yes,” she answered, eyebrows raised.
“I’m Kyle. The guy you’re meeting tonight.”
“Oh. Yes. Hi.” She should have recognized him.
“Gimme five minutes. I gotta finish my shift and then we can talk.”
He flashed his smile again. Seemed like the typical model/restaurant worker waiting for his big break. Cute. Young. This guy was only twenty-one. Nine years younger than Mia. When she was losing her virginity, he was probably still playing with Matchbox cars or a Game Boy or whatever toy was popular back then, no clue what sex even was.
Kyle leaned on the bar, asking a couple of women with three-quarters-full martini glasses if they needed another drink, totally playing them by batting his long eyelashes. Couldn’t blame the guy. Why not try and make a few more tips before punching out for the night?
Mia watched him interact with the women. Diamond rings on their fingers, but still they leaned over the bar and let their cleavage pour out of tiny shirts. He definitely seemed suave. The kind of guy who would be good at meet and greets.
After pouring a couple more martinis, he removed his apron and came around the bar to Mia. “Let’s sit somewhere quiet.”
He led her to a table in the back of the restaurant, no customers. “So what exactly is this gig?” he asked.
“We’re looking for a model to represent our new line and do in-store appearances.”
“Yeah, my agent explained that. But the other part? Are you seriously going to make rubber copies of my dick?”
That was a blunt way of putting it. “If we choose you, yep.”
He smirked. “Well, I’m sure you’ll pick me. I’ve been told on many occasions that I have a great dick.”
“Well, it’s more than that. We need someone who will be good with the meet and greets. We’re not just looking for a nice . . . penis.”
“You had to see the way those chicks at the bar fawned over me. It happens every Monday. You should see my tips for the night. I’m like a god here.”
Wow. Conceited, a bit? “Oh. Good.”
“If you hire me, I come with a fan club. I bet I could get them each to buy a dozen of my dicks.”
Mia took in his appearance again and noticed the things she hadn’t at first. Expertly groomed eyebrows and goatee, just like a boy band rejectee. Hair had enough gel to style an entire football team’s hair. Perfect cuticles? Oh, he was a manicure kind of guy. The only thing worse than a guy who chewed his nails was one who actually went to a manicurist.
“So, what do we do now? Go in back and fuck?”
Mia choked on her wine. “Uh, no.”
Should she end this interview and get out now? Her first impression may have been wrong. This was not a guy who could represent the shop.
“I’m gonna go,” she said and stood. “Alone. Without you.”
“Aw, shit.” He stood, too. “I fucked it up. I mean, screwed it up. Sorry. I know my language is bad sometimes. Please don’t leave. I really need to book more modeling jobs if I’m ever gonna get out of here.”
Damn it! He had to pull out the sad puppy dog eyes. Mia sighed. It was more than just the language, but there was proof he knew how to turn on the charm when necessary. She supposed he could be trained to act more appropriately. If he could get those women to buy more drinks even though they still had nearly full glasses in front of them, maybe he’d be good at getting her Classy ’n’ Sassy customers to buy things, too.
“Okay. But be forewarned. You’re on thin ice.”
“Whatever you say. Let me get my things.”
He sprinted away before she could say another word, meeting her at the front of the restaurant, backpack slung over one shoulder. He stepped ahead and opened the door. Seemed like he was trying to be a gentleman, which was a good thing.
“I’m the silver Altima. You can follow me to my apartment.” She started toward her car.
“Uh. I can’t. I don’t have a car.”
“How’d you get to work?”
His gaze fell to the concrete. “My mom.”
Mia stifled her laughter. “Do you live at home?”
“You try going to school full time and affording an apartment with a lame-ass job.”
He was only twenty-one. Guess he could have a pass. “Okay, okay. Sorry.” But she couldn’t wipe the smirk off her face.
They got into her car and stayed quiet as she drove. But one question nagged at her. “So, if you live at home, where are you having all this great sex with women who think you are well-endowed?”
“I told you. I’m like a god here.” He turned and flashed his grin at her.
In that moment, the moonlight shining on him, she noticed just how young he really was.
“These horny soccer moms have plenty of room in the backseats of their minivans.”
Mia turned her attention to the road and shook her head. “I don’t need to hear any more.”
“Sorry. You asked.”
Mia pictured Kyle in a Cheerio-laden backseat among empty juice boxes and laughter bubbled up again. “So, I guess you do get some mighty nice tips.”
He rubbed his perfectly sculpted chin hairs. “Yeah. This one time I got tipped like two hundred bucks. I felt like a friggin’ prostitute. But money’s money.”
Mia pulled into her parking spot and got out, tingles of apprehension swirling through her body. She still hadn’t decided which interview process she was going to use. Kyle followed her inside. He stripped down to just his boxer briefs, then dropped to the floor and started pumping out pushups.
She shook her head, unable to control her grin. This kid was so damn amusing. “What are you doing?”
“I wanna look good.”
“You look fine. And besides, I’m not concerned about your pecs right now.”
Mia sat on the bed as he stood and pushed down his underwear, flicking it toward his pile of clothes.
Time to get down to business. And she had about three seconds to decide if she was going through with the insertion interview process or chickening out and just doing the examination. Is it ridiculously warm in here, or is it just me? She pulled her sweatshirt off.
Kyle stepped to her, running the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Man, you’re hot. Never woulda guessed this bod was under that frumpy shirt. I bet you taste as sweet as you look.”
The cheesy line relaxed Mia and she giggled. “Whoa, Backstreet Boy. That might work with your desperate housewives, but that is so not what we’re here for.” She really needed to decide what he was there for exactly. She supposed she owed it to Bryn to try and do it the way they’d planned. It was all about the shop and making the best product possible. Back to sex robot mode. “Just lay down and I’ll do what I need to do, okay?”
“Oh yeah.” He bounced onto the bed and laid back, hands behind his head.
Deep breath. Mia stood and unbuttoned her jeans, pushing the zipper down.
“Nice. I get to watch you strip. You can turn on some music if you want.”
This kid. What had she gotten herself into? Well, one thing she now knew for certain, he was not getting his penis into her. Every minute spent with Kyle ticked him closer to not being the guy for them. “You know what? I changed my mind. Sex is no longer part of the interview process.”
“Aw. Really?”
“Yeah. Get up.” She figured she should still check him out, that way Bryn couldn’t be mad. Fixing her pants, she sat back on the edge of the bed. “Stand in front of me and I’ll do what I need to do.”
“Sweet! I’m getting a blow job instead?” That got him out of bed fast. He looked as happy as a kid on a pony with an iPad in one hand and a giant sucker in the other.
“No!”
“Damn. I like getting head.”
“Doesn’t every man?”
“Hell yeah.” He moved closer, his semihard protrusion bouncing a bit too close to her face for comfort.
“Not happening.” She put her hands to his waist and pushed him away.
“Why not?”
“My business is on the line. I’m interviewing you for a job. That’s all.”
He sighed. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Mia laughed and gave her attention to his penis. She wrapped her hand around him, stroking a little. It wasn’t completely erect yet.
“Fuck yeah, baby. I like it when you rub my dick.”
Mia stopped and stared up at him. “Dirty talk might work with your sexually frustrated MILFs, but not me. Shut it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Do I look like a ma’am? She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes.
“Um, I mean, miss. Yes, Miss Mia.”
Well, that just sounded like a teacher-student porno flick.
“Just be quiet, please.”
Back to work. He was definitely shorter than the others, maybe only a C-plus. But girth seemed decent. At least a B. Maybe higher.
She examined the shaft and head. There was something to be said for young penises. They were damn nice looking.
“Okay, I think we’re good.”
“What?”
“I’m done.”
“Seriously? But I’m hard. You don’t want me to have blue balls, do you?”
“Are guys still using that line? And aren’t you too old to be using it anyway? That only worked on me when I was sixteen.”
“Can you at least give me a quick hand job?”
Mia just stared at him.
“I’ll eat you out.”
“No thanks.”
“You sure? I’m really good at it.”
“Is that what the soccer moms tell you?”
His eyes turned seductive and his upper lip curled. “Fuck yeah.”
“I’ll pass.” She stood and gathered his clothes, plopping them into his arms. “But you can use my bathroom for five minutes if you promise not to shoot anything onto my walls.”
He probably wasn’t getting the job, so the least she could do was offer him the opportunity to alleviate his blue-balls situation before he left. But he surprised her by dropping his bundle of clothes, grabbing the lingerie catalogue from her dresser, and doing just that.
All Mia could do was shake her head and laugh as the bathroom door closed behind his very rounded and very tanned behind. She changed into her comfy clothes and took a seat at the dining table to make her notes. Despite being cute and already having a following, Kyle was just not mature enough for this endeavor.
Three down, two to go. Soon the madness would be over, in exchange for a different kind of madness.
“I’m starving. Wanna order some pizza?”
Looking up from her notes, Kyle walked toward her in just his jeans.
“Um, no. I want you to go so I can shower and watch my DVR’d shows.”
“What are ya watchin’?”
Was this kid for real? And when did she become old enough to call a twenty-one year old a kid? “Nothing. Just some Hoarders episodes.”
“I love that shit. I got great tips tonight, so I’ll buy the pizza.” He pulled his cell from his pocket and plopped onto her couch. “You like mushrooms and sausage?”
Mia rolled her eyes and laughed. It appeared that this kid was not leaving her apartment anytime soon. Might as well let him treat her to a late-night snack. “Throw on some olives and you got a deal.”
OLIVER REREAD the lat
est financial report for a third time before closing the document on his computer. This was pointless. He’d been practically useless at work, and in life, since meeting Mia. She was all he could think about. Where was she? Was she testing another guy for the job? The thought of her with someone else made him feel as if his intestines were being yanked out through his chest.
An engaged guy shouldn’t be jealous that a woman he just met was having sex with another man. But he sure as hell was.
If his so-called fiancée actually loved him and he loved her back, this wouldn’t even be happening. Alexiana Ryland loved only herself. And Chanel. And Dior. Appearance was everything to her. And at age twenty-eight, she was at a place in life where the proper appearance was a well-to-do husband on her arm. Love be damned. And in the high society they’d grown up in, an easy way to secure one was an unplanned pregnancy. Nobody dared announce a bundle was on the way without a ring on that finger.
Oliver ran his hands through his hair and let his head roll back. He just needed to see Mia. To tell her . . . Tell her what? That he had a crush on her? That she was the most intriguing woman he’d met since . . . ever? That he wished he were in a position to ask her on a proper date?
Yeah. None of that was going to work, but it didn’t stop his body from wanting to be near her.
Wait. The shop. He grabbed the wireless mouse and shook his computer to life. Tapping at the keyboard, he typed in Classy ’n’ Sassy Lingerie. Within seconds he had multiple links for various social networking Web sites and a direct link for the store. He clicked it, hoping to at least find a photo of Mia. Nothing. Would it be bad to go to the shop? After a moment of deliberation, he decided no. He might be working for this company. He had every right to know what he was getting himself into.
And if he happened to run into Mia while there, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
After jotting down the shop’s address, Oliver grabbed his suit jacket. Fifteen minutes later he opened the door to Classy ’n’ Sassy, a bell jingling above his head. He looked around, seeing no one. Just pink walls, lacy and satiny things on hangers. A rack of lotions and potions to his left, a shelf of sexy slippers to his right. Yep. Typical lingerie store.
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