"I think you should write a personal journal on finding your sexual self. Your sexuality can empower you, once you find it."
"Maybe I don't have a sexual self."
His short laugh seemed to have been unplanned, surprising even himself. "Georgie, when you walked into my office this morning, even in your demure skirt and blouse and librarian hairstyle, sexuality was pulsing off of you in waves. You've got it. And if you couple that with those extreme brains, you will be unstoppable. Just like a superhero."
"And just how do you know I haven't already found this magical sexual self?"
"Peanut butter sandwiches?"
"Yes, but that was just because . . ." I thought about the dreary sex life I had with Mark and how many headaches I had to fake just to avoid it.
"Do you have an orgasm every time you have sex?"
I dropped the fork again and sat back with astonishment.
"Come on, Georgie, you're a highly educated, modern woman. It's all right to talk out loud about this."
"Yes, maybe with my best friend, or my—no, I don't even do that."
He tilted his head, waiting for an answer. He was persistent, and damn, if he didn't have the most gorgeous face to go with that persistence.
"No, not all the time. I mean it depends on my mood, and how skilled the partner is and the time of day, and what I ate for lunch or if I had a drink with dinner . . . Ah shit. All right, my sexual self might need a little enlightenment, but how do you suppose to do that?" My face warmed some. "I'm not sleeping with you just to write a story." Of course, I'd been sort of undressing the man in my mind since I'd walked into the office, and I'd already imagined his hands on me more than once. But I was still not making that kind of sacrifice for my job. Although, sacrifice might be a strong word because the man was rich and gorgeous and ridiculously appealing.
"That's not what I'm proposing."
My shoulders dropped with a good measure of unplanned disappointment. Trey's mouth tilted slightly at the corner, assuring me he noticed my sudden drop in posture.
"But I am going to help you with this. And to start, I'll be sending you home with this month's box of, as you noted, pleasure goodies."
Chapter Six
Trey
By the time Georgie and I returned to Plaything, I'd questioned my own motives a hundred times. A few minutes after she'd walked into my office, where she fidgeted with her glasses and the hem of her skirt and broke into a round of hiccoughs, I thought 'here is a woman who has no idea how amazing she is'. That was when the idea for her to write about her own sexual awakening popped into my head. At the time, I figured an article about a career woman's sexuality with numerous mentions of our products would be a fantastic opportunity for free advertising. But the longer I spent with Georgie, listening to her amusing stories, catching her shy smiles, all the while imagining her naked in my bed, I realized I had a far more selfish motive than free publicity for the company.
My devious plan to get good advertisement for Plaything had really come back to bite me when I had cockily asked her to undo the top button on her blouse. My intent was to show her how easily a bit of cleavage could get the attention of our server, but it had backfired big time. The second the button opened and the blouse parted, exposing the curves of her breasts, my cock strained against my fly. I wasn't able to stop the involuntary groan that followed. She'd discretely reached up and buttoned her shirt once she'd gotten her pepper. I was disappointed but relieved.
I'd phoned ahead to Olivia to have her put this month's box on my desk. It was sitting in the center of my work pile when Georgie and I walked into the office. Her blue eyes shot straight to it. The fabric on her blouse strained again as her breasts lifted and fell with a nervous breath.
She walked cautiously toward my desk and stared down at the box with trepidation.
"It's all right. I promise no snake will jump out."
Georgie smiled and flicked an invisible strand of hair off her forehead. "Easy Come, Easy O?" She airily read the aqua blue lettering printed across the top of the box, but her body language was anything but relaxed.
"Every box has a theme. We use common idioms and phrases that can be interpreted in suggestive ways. Occasionally, like this month, we tweak them. But you'd be surprised how many common sayings can be suggestive in the right context. Last month it was Do Over for the client in search of the multi-orgasmic experience. It received a lot of nice reviews, so I think we achieved our goal."
I spoke matter-of-factly to make it seem like a typical business conversation, hoping it would make her less uneasy and help stop me from visualizing Georgie using the products.
"So Easy Come, Easy O is to help—" She pressed her fingers against her mouth to stifle a hiccough. I'd told myself I would keep my hands off of Georgie, mostly out of self-preservation, but I couldn't stop myself from taking her hand away from her highly kissable lips. Then I wrapped my fingers around her other hand. The button on her blouse was near breaking point as her breathing quickened. She stared up at me, her blue eyes behind the lenses sparkling with shock and possibly a little excited anticipation, as I lifted her hands up in the air. Her luscious tits lifted up with her arms.
Georgie's bottom lip dropped a bit as if disappointed. I quickly had to squash the vision I had of my tongue slipping over that lip and into her mouth.
"Take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds."
It took her a second to comprehend. "Oh, right." She sucked in a deep breath, and I worked hard at not exploding as I held her slim wrists in my hands and watched that cleavage rise up with her breath. Another erotic image flashed through my head. Only this time, it was my cock slipping between the mounds of her breasts, wedging itself snuggly in her deep, warm cleavage.
She released the breath she'd been holding. I released mine too. I let go of her hands.
She waited to see if my little trick had done the job and smiled. "You sure know your hiccough cures."
"I'm sort of an expert. Growing up, my younger brother always had the hiccoughs. With him, it wasn't as much nerves as it was him gobbling his food too fast."
"I'm not nervous," Georgie insisted. "I guess I'll let you get back to work. I'm sure you have a lot more important things to do than cure my hiccoughs. Thank you for lunch." She reached for the box, but I put my hand on it.
"On second thought, I'm going to hold onto this. Leave your address with Olivia on your way out. I'll have a car pick you up tonight at eight."
"Why would you do that?"
"Judging from the fact that just looking at the box gave you a case of hiccoughs, I think this little project is going to take more effort on my part." Before she could protest I continued. "I promise, I won't touch you. You'll be on the self-discovery part of the journey all by yourself." At least for now, I wanted to add but didn't.
Georgie's chin shifted back and forth in thought. It seemed I might have just scared her away from the plan. My own erotic impulses had gotten in the way. Her obvious case of nerves had made it clear that she'd need a lot more coaching, but a good deal of my decision came from my own need to see her again. Of course, I would probably have to chain myself to the fucking wall not to touch her or guide her self-exploration with some heavy duty exploration of my own.
I leaned against the front of my desk and crossed my arms. Georgie took a small step back to put more space between us. It was hard to know why. Maybe I repelled her. Fuck, I hoped that wasn't the case.
"What do you say, Georgie? Otherwise, I can tell you all the hardship tales my partners and I endured as kids, and you can write one of those predictable and preachy rags to riches stories. Although, something tells me predictable and preachy is not your style. Provocative, controversial, edgy, that seems more like the kind of story that would get those long fingers of yours floating across the keyboard.”
She thought about what I said for a few minutes, and I greedily used that time to look at her, every inch of her.
Her blue eyes floated to the box on the desk and then back to me. "Eight o'clock?"
Chapter Seven
Georgie
The driver, Noah, a quiet, hairless man, with two silver plugs in his ears and a courteous smile pulled the blue Jaguar up to a pair of iron gates. He pushed a button on the console and the gates swung open. Once again, I found myself fidgeting with the hem of my dress, just like I'd done with my skirt during lunch. The dress, like the skirt, came to just a few inches above my knees, a length that would have passed muster with even the strictest Catholic school nun. I'd changed five times, first opting for something a little more party like, with a short, flirty hem. But with each change of wardrobe, I went a little more conservative. The plain dress I'd ended up in as the driver buzzed the intercom on my apartment had been one that I bought for my grandmother's funeral. Unlike the blouse that I had now tossed in the Good Will bag, the dress fit nicely across my ample chest. It buttoned up easily and there was no gap, like this afternoon's gap, an innocent parting of fabric that had Trey's complete attention. And he'd made no real effort to hide his extreme interest in my ill-fitting blouse.
I wasn't exactly sure why I'd decided to go along with his plan, whatever that plan might be. Mostly, I wanted to write an interesting article, and the angle of four boys from a poor neighborhood becoming massively rich selling sex goodies wasn't going to cut it with my boss. I had to admit, I was also more than a little curious about exactly how Trey intended for me to discover my sexual self. As far as sex went, I considered myself to be the typical modern career woman. I wasn't prudish. I liked a good romp in the hay as much as the next person, but as far as my sex life becoming a critical and intriguing part of my life, I just couldn't see that happening. Still, I had to admit, Trey was the first man I'd met who could make me blush from my head to my toes with just a suggestive smile or casual touch. When he took hold of my wrists to help rid me of my hiccoughs, before I realized what was happening, my heart had set off on a speed competition with my pulse.