Man Candy

by Tia Siren

  We zoomed up to the fifteenth floor, and my curiosity swelled. I inserted my keycard into the door and swung it open.

  Mr. Ellis was sitting on the bed, waiting patiently.

  “How did you—”

  “I work downtown; this is only three blocks from headquarters,” he said.

  “Mr. Elli—”

  “My name is Tom. I told you months ago, Nia.”

  He sat me down on the bed and stood over me.

  “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen,” he began. “The last several months I’ve been meeting more with my brother and his family, and you know what I’ve learned? Don’t answer that; I still want you to listen. I learned what makes him tick. I learned why he wakes up every morning and goes to his dead-end job upstate. I learned that it’s not easy to be in love.”

  He was pacing back and forth as he talked, and I smiled as he continued on.

  “That’s right, love. Love is what gets him out of the house in the morning so he can go work a dead-end job to provide for his family. I saw him get into fights with the person he loves, only to watch them kiss and seemingly forget it ever happened. It was like some kind of magic was happening in his household.

  “I watched them play with their kids and saw how amazing it is to watch someone grow up. I watched them roll their eyes at the millionth diaper they’d had to change, knowing that they’d have to do the same thing an hour later—only to give that baby a kiss on the cheek.

  “Love and compassion are two things I’ve been trying to spread around the city, and yet I haven’t ever been able to find those things in my own life. These last few months, I think I’ve started to find it, and would you like to know where it started? Guess.” Tom paused. “No, don’t answer that either. I started finding it the moment I caught you downstairs that night. I continued to find it in the airplane the next day, and I know I found it when I saw you exit that airplane wearing that black dress.”

  Tears streamed down my cheeks as he continued to talk.

  “I want you in my life. I need you in my life. I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing this, because I think you want me in your life as well.

  “Nia, I love you. And if you’ll have me, I want to start a family.”

  I sat there, shocked to hear all of that. All I could do was nod and smile as he leaned in for a kiss. I stopped him before he could, though.

  “I need you in my life, too. But, I have a couple things I need to say first.”

  Tom sat down in a chair nearby and listened.

  “As it turns out, starting a family will be easier than you think.”

  He thought about it for a moment, and then his eyes started to beam. “You’re—”

  “Yep.” I nodded. “And the second thing: I only want to start a family as long as I can continue pursuing my own career as well. I want to be your equal, not your damsel.”

  Tom nodded happily. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I gave him a loving embrace and kissed him all over his face.

  We walked from the hotel arm in arm. Our future started that day, and it had never looked brighter.

  ***

  THE END

  Billionaire Boss Romance - Billionaire’s Sex Shop

  DANA:

  I own a sex shop. I opened it up just after I graduated from business school. And it did pretty well in the beginning. Sex sells, right? Right - if you do business on the internet. So now, I’m going to have to sell the store. It’ll be tough, but I’ll get back on my feet, all by myself. I’ll miss my customers and the flexible hours, though. But I won’t miss so much the merchandise. I’m not that kind of girl. I know it’s strange – a sex shop owner who’s never even used a sex toy. A gorgeous customer came in today, looking for a strap-on dildo. When I showed it to him, I blushed. Not sure if it was because of the toy or because he asked me out on a date…

  GREG:

  I just sold my dot com for billions, and now I’m moving back to my hometown, getting away from those city girls who are just after my money. There’s a sex shop that’s opened up while I was away. The owner is hot. And she intrigues me. She blushed when she showed me a toy. What a contradiction. I have to have her. I have to show her. I have to make her mine…

  1

  Dana loved her business. That was an odd thing to admit to herself, since she had never even used a sex toy in her life. She pleasured herself, of course, but she had never felt the need to use something like the latex dildos she rang up and placed into discrete black plastic bags for her customers.

  Dana was three years out of business school, and she’d always known what kind of business she wanted have. After all, sex sells. She opened the Treasure Box a month after graduating, and it hadn’t taken long for the little shop to take off. It was a squat, square building with dim windows and a parking lot in the rear. Everyone liked to buy sex toys, but no one liked to be seen doing it.

  The shop started off doing well, and Dana had hired Jeff, a thirty-something stoner, to help out so she could actually have a day or two off here and there. Lately, though, the business had been down. The internet was cutting into her profits more and more, and she had let Jeff go. He had been more disappointed about never getting her into bed than he was about losing his job.

  Dana was attractive, and she knew it. She was lithe but curvy, with large breasts and a bubble butt. She had a flat tummy and long brown hair, which she always pulled back into a simple ponytail. She didn’t put much effort into looking good, but she didn’t have to. Her lips were full and pouty, her eyes smoky and a grayish blue. She had white teeth and a perfect smile, and her voice was husky. Jeff had always said she looked like she could have been a famous actress in the forties.

  She wasn’t quite twenty-five, and she’d had a string of boyfriends since high school, but none had ever amounted to much of anything. It was always just a bit of fun, and then they wanted something more serious, and she freaked out and ended it.

  Most guys expected her to be a sexual creature, owning a sex shop and everything, but Dana had always tended to be a little bit vanilla in bed. She had grown up in an ultra-conservative household, and it had affected her. Her mother had almost fainted when she told her she was opening a shop that sold dildos and fake vaginas, and her father hadn’t talked to her for over a year. Things were better now, but her parents never asked about her business.

  It was a Thursday when she met him: Gregory Jones, tall, dark, and handsome. He entered the Treasure Chest alone. It was ten in the morning. Dana had just opened. No one else was there yet, and the young woman had been stocking a new shipment of cock rings near the back of the store. She had heard the bell ring, a little silver chime that hung over the doorway and was rocked when the door opened and hit it.

  She called out to her new customer. “I’m back here! Yell when you’re ready to check out.”

  There wasn’t an answer for a moment, and it made Dana nervous. She stood up and turned, just in time to see the sexiest-looking man she had ever seen step around the final aisle and smile at her. He was tanned and tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw that made it seem as though he had missed his calling as a superhero. His hair was fair, blond and wavy, though he kept it trimmed quite short. He was wearing a suit that looked expensive to even Dana’s eye, untrained as it was in such matters.

  “Hey there,” the man said. “I could use your help.”

  “What can I do for you?” Dana asked, and then she realized she was holding a cock ring package. She put it down quickly, her cheeks burning. The man seemed to take note of her sudden flash of embarrassment, his brow rising, but he was too much of a gentleman to say anything about it.

  “Do you sell strap-on dildos?”

  Dana nodded. “Sure. Follow me.”

  She had to step around the man to get out of the aisle. When she did, she brushed against him slightly it was as if her whole body exploded. She felt a heat, and she realized that she had just met the man, but she wa
nted him badly already.

  She went toward the middle of the store, down an aisle with a few strap-on dildo choices.

  “Ah, thank you,” the man said.

  “Sure. I’ll be up front when you’re ready,” Dana said, and she turned to leave, but the man held up a hand.

  “Actually, I need some more help. I don’t know much about these.”

  “Wife send you in?” Dana asked.

  “Something like that.” Gregory laughed, and then he held up his hand, showing that he wore no ring. “No wife, though. Not really a girlfriend either. Just a woman, I’m afraid. I hope you don’t think I’m some sort of lecherous worm.”

  “Hey, your business is your own business, and if it means you’re buying from me, then it’s good business.”

  “I’ve never had this request, I must admit,” the man said. “I’m certainly adventurous enough, but this young lady would like me to watch her…with one of her friends.”

  Dana blushed again and nodded.

  “Does sex embarrass you?” the man asked.

  “No,” Dana whispered.

  “I’m Greg,” the man said, holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

  Dana shook his hand, and then, after hearing his name, she realized she knew him. Well, knew who he was at least.

  “You’re Gregory Jones,” she said, and the man nodded. She went on. “You founded CastMe.com.”

  CastMe.com was a website that had grown popular over the two years since its launch. Wannabe actors, singers, and other entertainers could pay a monthly fee to post demos on the site. Then places like management companies and production companies that had partnered with the site could go and look for whatever they needed. More than a few new faces had been found for some big products, and everyone looking to make it big in entertainment was signing up. Greg had become a billionaire when he sold the site less than six months ago. Dana had known that Gregory Jones had grown up in her small town, but she didn’t know he ever came back.

  “You visiting?” she asked.

  “I moved home,” Greg said. “I’m just not a big city guy, though we’re close enough that I can scratch certain itches when need be.”

  “Itches like seeing your new friend with another girl?”

  “Exactly,” Greg said. “I must say, though, you intrigue me more than she ever could, no matter what lewd acts she does with her friend.”

  “I intrigue you?”

  “Yes. You’re beautiful, you own a store that sells cock rings and vibrators, and yet you blush when talking about those products.”

  “I don’t normally,” Dana said, somewhat defensively.

  “I’d like to take you to dinner. This weekend?” the man asked her.

  “I don’t know,” Dana said, but she did know. She didn’t want to be some second fiddle to whatever floozy he was buying the strap-on dildo for.

  She thought he would argue, but the rich man simply reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. He handed it to her, and she looked at it. It simply had his name and a phone number. The paper stock was thick, as luxurious as such a thing could be.

  “If you change your mind, call me,” Greg said. “Now, which of these strap-ons would you recommend?”

  Greg didn’t linger in Dana’s store, though he lingered in her mind. For the rest of the day, after he was long gone, she thought of him. That night she lay in bed, the TV on, casting her in a soft blue glow, but she didn’t pay attention to the Gilmore Girls rerun. She had the card in her hand, and she turned it over and over in her fingers. She glanced at her clock. It was almost midnight. She wasn’t sure she should call so late, but she reached for her cell phone and dialed the number anyway.

  When Greg answered, he was panting. She thought he might be sleeping, but it dawned on her that he was probably screwing. She almost hung up, but something kept her from doing so.

  “Hello?” the man said.

  “I’m in,” she said.

  “Fantastic, Dana,” Greg said. He had asked her name as he was checking out. “Text me your address. I’ll pick you up Saturday at eight.”

  “Okay,” Dana said, and hung up. She used her phone to Google Greg. He was thirty-two, almost ten years older than she was. His father had died young, but his mother was still living. He had been an aspiring actor, but after striking out in Hollywood, he had decided to start the website.

  Dana set her phone back on her end table and turned her TV off. She was going out with a billionaire. She couldn’t believe it as she drifted off to sleep.

  2

  Friday passed slowly. Dana worked, sold her sex toys, and went home. She ate dinner and went to bed early. Saturday she worked as well, though she always closed the store early on the weekends. Most of her customers shopped during the week when the people they knew were at work. They should have been working too, but they stole in on lunch breaks or after dentist appointments, their mouths filled with sticky gauze, their speech slurred.

  After work on Saturday, Dana rushed home and got ready. She showered and then dressed, though it took her almost an hour to settle on the perfect outfit: a small black dress with black high heels. She put on makeup, which she rarely did, and when she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt simultaneously bold and embarrassed. Bold because she looked like an absolute knockout and she knew it, and embarrassed because she knew she was doing it because she wanted Greg to want to fuck her.

  She wouldn’t let him. That wasn’t the kind of girl she was, but she wanted him to want to.

  He picked her up five minutes past eight. She had sent him her address the day before. She lived in a small apartment, and as she made her way to the parking lot, she felt ashamed. Surely he was used to penthouses when he was in the city, and now that he had returned to his hometown, an hour and a half outside of New York, she was confident he would build a mansion somewhere.

  Apple Tree was the name of the town, and it was quaint, almost like a town people would live in on a TV show. Rolling green hills gave way to farm land—a far cry from the loud, smog-filled city to the south. There was a main street, and it was here where Dana lived, in a small row of apartments. Her shop was just outside town, on a lonely, dusty road that otherwise led out to a dairy farm.

  Greg was driving a bright red convertible, which matched Dana’s lipstick. He had gotten out of the car and moved around to open the passenger door.

  “You look amazing,” the rich man said.

  “Thank you,” Dana said. “You too,” she added, and it was the truth. He was dressed in a black blazer with a crisp white button-up underneath it, the top two buttons undone, his bronze chest showing a small amount of curly chest hair. His pants were jeans, but not the sort you would buy at the local Walmart. They had cost more than her whole wardrobe; she had no doubt about that.

  After she lowered herself into the driver’s seat, he came around and climbed in behind the wheel.

  “You hungry?” he asked, and she nodded.

  He took her over a few towns, to a sleepy little place called River’s Crossing. It had a reputation for being a bit more upscale than Apple Tree, and as such, Dana had never had much reason to go there, except for a couple of times with her girlfriends as they looked in the shops.

  There was a small Italian restaurant there called Emilio’s, and the parking lot was full when Greg pulled in. The sky was black, and he had stopped to raise the roof on the convertible, as the air was growing quite chilly, despite the fact that it was summer. Though in a dress as short as the one Dana was wearing, any night would be chilly.

  They went inside, and Dana thought they would have to wait. There was a line almost to the door, but as soon as the hostess saw Greg, she came forward and showed them to a small private room off the main dining area. It only had four tables, each small and intimate with two chairs.

  The food was better than any Dana had ever had, and the conversation was just as good. They did the normal first date stuff, working through the conversation they were
supposed to. Where did you go to school, what movies do you like, that sort of thing. Surprisingly, Greg had dropped out of high school, moving when he was seventeen to Los Angeles, and his favorite film was Goodfellas. He learned that Dana had gone to a local high school and then a college thirty minutes to the East, and her favorite film was Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

  “I would love it if you came home with me,” Greg said, and Dana was shocked by how upfront he was. She opened her mouth after she smiled, and she was prepared to tell him no.

  “God yes,” she said instead, shocking herself.

  “Great,” Greg said. He stood and left enough money to cover the bill and a hefty tip, and then they hurried out to his car.

  It turned out that Greg had done exactly what Dana had thought he must have. Twenty minutes out of Apple Tree there was a massive home that had been newly built. The immense gates they drove through before heading down a winding drive to get to the house answered how exactly the house had gotten past the attention of everyone in town. She doubted anyone knew the house was here, sitting on some unused farmland far from the main road.

  They made it in through the front door and into the foyer before Greg turned to her and kissed her. She let him, placing her hands on his chest as his strong hands found her hips. He tasted of the wine they had drunk at dinner, and of the gum he had been chewing since. She parted her lips to him, and their tongues met and danced briefly together, and then he was breaking the kiss, and Dana found herself disappointed. The disappointment didn’t last long. Greg moved one hand up, his fingers trailing over her dress along her stomach and up over a breast until he reached her skin. Then those fingers curled into the front of her dress and pulled, forcing the material down and freeing both of her breasts. She wore no bra—the dress wouldn’t allow it—and Greg bent so his lips were on one of her rosebud nipples. She felt it harden against his tongue.