Applying for Pleasure(4)

Ariel fought the need to wipe her brow. The air-conditioning in the office did nothing to cool her off. Dear God, she hoped she wasn't sweating, and when in the hell did she ever have such forward thoughts about a man before?

He stopped in front of her, and she pretended not to notice the effect he had on her. Her skin felt flushed, her nipples hardened at the sight of him, and she was sure if she shifted, she could feel them brush against her silk bra. He reached out and took her hand in his. “I'm John Martinez."

"I know.” She swallowed tightly and almost closed her eyes at the feel of his roughened flesh against her own. Clearly he wasn't just an owner of a company. He must enjoy working with his hands. He was the perfect image of what she truly desired, but nowhere on Capture Inc.'s Web site did it state John ever participated in the fantasies he constructed. “I mean I know by the photo on your site. I'm Ariel Lancaster."

"A very beautiful name.” He smiled, displaying an even row of gleaming white teeth. “It's a great pleasure to meet you. Have a seat."

She took the offered chair and watched as he sat in front of his desk. She couldn't help but notice how comfortable he was in his own skin, by the easy glide of his movements, but at the same time she became aware of the predatory gleam to his gaze, which sent her pulse racing. Why did she feel like he was disrobing her with his stare? What was he thinking? And were his thoughts along the line of hers? Keep it businesslike, Ariel, and you'll get through this fine.

"I assume you have a lot of questions. But I want to make sure before we go any further, Ms. Lancaster, that this is really what you want. If it isn't, I can shred your application here and now, and you can simply walk out of here."

Had he noticed her nervousness? She was a tad jittery, but the butterflies running amok in her stomach wouldn't change her mind. “Call me Ariel, and I wouldn't have applied, Mr. Martinez, if I wasn't one hundred percent certain this is what I wanted.” She made sure her voice was steady.

"First-name basis already?” He laughed. “Then I suggest you call me John. Would you care for a drink?"

She shook her head. “Not right now. I'd like to get down to the questioning part."

He arched his brow. “Let's get to it then. What made you choose our company?"

"As I stated in the application, the article in New York Times Square magazine caught my eye. Besides being well written, the paper is one of the top established news sources for New York, and I have yet to see them write anything they didn't thoroughly investigate."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “Yes, I read that part of your submission. But what made you choose our company? With a little bit of Internet research, I'm sure you could have come up with alternate companies."

"Truthfully, it was the anonymous comment from the writer, claiming she was extremely satisfied and didn't regret one bit with going ahead with her fantasy.” She fought hard not to blush. That would just make her appear naive. “Her descriptive, intense article and her view of things made me want to feel what she felt."

"Have you done anything like this before?"

"I've never had the courage. And as you know from my written statement, turning thirty changes your views on certain things."

"Happy belated birthday."

Surprised, she could only say, “Thanks."

"Sean, my brother, performed the background check on you. You've passed with flying colors. I've come across different types of people who apply to my company for various reasons, but I don't think I've ever come across a history professor before. You stated you were single in your application. Do you feel your occupation has limited your choices in finding a man who would give you what you physically need?"

She shouldn't have been shocked by his question, and she tried hard not to flinch. His query was a legitimate one, even though she thought he was slightly out of line. What business did he even have asking her this?

She had a hunch she wouldn't be able to hide much from him, and it made her second-guess herself for a moment. Was this the right way to go about her dream?

Realistically, she was exposing herself in every way possible. But she couldn't help but be a little annoyed that he'd touched one of the roots of her problem so quickly. She tried to shrug it off and not focus on her feelings. He was, after all, someone she'd just met today, but she'd be dead not to feel the spark sizzling between them. “I've dated a few men who seemed to be intellectually compatible, but truthfully there has been no one I've ever trusted with what I truly wanted. As odd as this is to say, it seemed easier to write down my thoughts and hand them over to a stranger."