Page 8 of Easy Come

"I won't argue with that." Trey reached across and placed his hand gently on my arm. It should have irritated me, but somehow, his touch felt genuinely kind. My mind momentarily drifted to the idea of that same hand smoothing over my skin.

"Wait, Georgie. I'm not trying to be an asshole. I guess I'm not doing this right. Eat your quiche and listen to my story pitch. Then I'll drive you back to your car."

I picked up the fork but didn't do much more than pick at the quiche. I listened fully but pretended that I was only paying half-hearted attention.

"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 magicalsexual 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 timeGeorgie 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 insuggestiveways. 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 makeherless uneasy and help stopmefrom 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.

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