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Authors: Nicki Elson

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BOOK: Vibrizzio
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* * *

 

“What a dick.”

Lyssa nodded in agreement with her friend Trish’s assessment of her new partner. She’d filled her in while they sat at a neighborhood bar waiting for their friends Amy and JoAnne. When Lyssa had texted earlier with the news that she’d officially been named as one of the chosen ones, Trish had insisted they all get together for a celebratory drink—a carryover from their college days when they’d gathered to toast the completion of the last final each semester. Lyssa and Trish had been friends since their freshman year at the University of Iowa and now lived only a few blocks apart in Lincoln Park.

“Is Keith coming?” Trish asked.

“Uh.” Lyssa pulled out her phone and saw his message. “Looks like that’s a no.”

“Big surprise. What’s his excuse this time?”

“He doesn’t need an excuse to have his own life.”

Trish shook her head, making her sandy blond waves swish from side-to-side. “He needs an excuse to not celebrate his girlfriend’s major achievement.”

“It’s not an achievement until the job is completed. Besides, he and I will celebrate our own way. Privately.” She grinned.

“Well, he better hope this new guy keeps being such an arrogant ass. With all the hours you’ll be spending with him, Keithy Boy might have someone else to worry about.”

“Or some
thing
.” Lyssa’s face warmed, and Trish shot her a quizzical look. “The vibrator—I love it! Thanks so much for giving Keith the recommendation.” She was loosened up enough from her nearly empty pint of Guinness that she may have gone on to tell the story of what had happened the night before, but the other girls walked in, so they moved on to happy chit chat and another pint before heading home.

Once back at her small, studio apartment, all alone, Lyssa decided she deserved another indulgence. So after calling Keith to say goodnight, she pulled out her battery-operated friend. Running it at the lowest speed, she settled back onto the futon and trailed it over the outside of her pajamas. She pictured her boyfriend’s mouth roving over her, his fingers sneaking beneath her top, and then ducking under the elastic band at her waist.

As the speed increased, she imagined him picking up on all of her cues and doing things to her she was too embarrassed to ask for out loud. She envisioned him as unselfish and masterfully skilled at catering to her tiniest of whims. Panting and maneuvering herself out of her clothes, she continued her ministrations, and the fantasy took off. By the time she shuddered, rocked by pure bliss, there was no trace of Keith in her mind at all.

Chapter Two

 

Before she’d completed her rotation through the revolving door, Lyssa spotted Hayden in the expansive lobby of their riverfront office building. The late summer sun’s beams had emerged over the rooftops across the river and cut through the glass of the front wall, making everything inside shine and sparkle, including, it seemed to Lyssa, Hayden’s gleaming smile. As she approached, he put forward one of the two lidded cups he held.

“Thanks.” She’d already gulped down a gallon of coffee before leaving her apartment, but she had to admit the gesture was nice and took the offered cup. “You’re inappropriately cheery for this time of day, aren’t you?”

His eyes sparked with energy and not a dark, wavy hair was out of place—except for the ones he intended to be. “I’m a morning person. Always have been. There’s just something exhilarating about all the promise held within a new day.”

“You mean the promise of all the things that can potentially go wrong?”

He tilted his head and gave her a chiding smirk. “Nervous about meeting the new client? Nothing to worry about—you’re with me. I always make a brilliant first impression.”

She thought “brilliant” was overstating it and opened her mouth to say so but decided against it and disguised the action by taking a sip of coffee. “Egh!” she groaned after she’d forced the thick, sugary liquid past her tongue.

“What’s wrong? It’s a mocha. Aren’t all women suckers for chocolate?”

“Chocolate, yes, not a saccharine syrup that pretends to be coffee. And
not
first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, come on. I saw how much creamer you dumped into your coffee yesterday.”

Lyssa narrowed her eyes. As she stared at him, his grin relaxed, and the roundness at his cheekbones morphed into sharper angles. One of his thick eyebrows rose in question of her silent scrutiny, so she explained, “I think this partnership will work better if you stop noticing every little thing I do.”

He laughed. “I can’t help it. It’s what I do, and it’s one of the things that makes me so good at investment manager analysis—I pick up on the small details others tend to miss.”

“Okay, well, stop pointing out my little details. It’s creepy. And for the record, I like cream, not sugar.”

“So more like an unsweetened latte, then?”

“Bingo.”

“Okay, now that we’ve settled that, let’s go save the world one retirement fund at a time.” He lifted his briefcase from where it sat at his feet and gestured toward the revolving door.

They took a cab to DH’s office and were sent to a small conference room where they met a staff of four—two men and two women, ranging in age from midthirties to well over fifty.

“Call me Shep,” the most senior of the group said as he stood and shook their hands. Lyssa and Hayden both knew he was DH’s CFO, Randall Shepherd. He spoke with a southern accent and, as he explained, had flown up the day before from the company’s headquarters outside of Dallas.

Gloria Bluthe, a senior vice president, was the only one of the four based in Chicago. After shaking hands, she returned to her seat at one end of the table and clicked away at her laptop, projecting graphics onto a screen that covered the opposite wall. For the next hour and a half, she and the other executives took turns reviewing the history of Delicious Hawaii’s pension fund. Along the way, Hayden asked several questions, and Lyssa chimed in too, taking notes as they gathered information regarding the firm’s investment culture, goals, and needs.

“As you see,” Shep said in conclusion, “we haven’t done a thorough review of the funds for over a decade, and the program is tired. It’s doing fine but not great. We tend to be big believers that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but we’re starting to feel like the pretty girl who never gets asked to the dance.”

Hayden nodded. His handsome features were earnest but calm and confident. “Yes, the investment climate has changed considerably since the mid-90s, and most investors are struggling with how to adapt. Comparatively, your funds have actually held fairly steady, so you’ve done something right. Nevertheless, a reassessment is the intelligent thing to do at this point. Miss Bates and I will approach our analysis with an eye toward continuing on with as many of your existing managers as make sense while introducing new blood to resuscitate the weaker areas.”

The lines on both sides of Shep’s leathery face creased further as he broke into a wide grin. “That’s precisely what we’re hoping for.” He glanced around at his comrades. “Looks like Beecher wasn’t bullshitting us when he said he’d give us a ringer.”

The finance officer from Dallas cleared her throat, and all eyes turned toward her. “While it’s true we’d like to continue on with as many of our existing managers as possible, we don’t want to do so blindly. So as part of this project, we’re going to require onsite visits, as well as thorough technical analysis.” She pushed two binders across the table to Hayden and Lyssa. “These are identical packets with summary information on each of our managers along with contact information.”

Hayden opened his folder, fingering through the stacks of paper. “Onsite visits are a critical part of our process. The numbers only tell us so much. There’s nothing like a face-to-face—it’s shocking what you can learn about a person simply by knowing how they prefer their coffee.”

As soon as a wry smile started to form on Lyssa’s lips, she changed it into an affable one and nodded in agreement, hoping to imply that flying around the country to indulge a single client was the normal course of business.

Gloria spoke up. “But before the general review begins, we have a matter that requires immediate attention.”

“Blaze Capital Management,” Hayden said.

Gloria gave her head a shake. “You’re quick.” She clicked back a few screens, highlighting a row of numbers. “Ever since they were taken over by Torchwood International, they’ve consistently underperformed, and we don’t have any reason to expect improvement, not after losing as many top-tier professionals as they have. We want to replace them as soon as possible.”

Shep’s voice rumbled out in a deep chuckle. “We’ll give you pups a chance to prove yourselves right off the bat. If we like what we see, we’ll let you stick around for the rest of the project.” He winked, but his measured smile told them he was dead serious.

Hayden and Lyssa simultaneously flipped their notepads to fresh sheets of paper and dove into the essential questions. After Lyssa had exhausted her limited repertoire, Hayden continued on for a while. By the time they left, they’d filled several pages with notes.

On the cab ride back to F&K’s office building, they made a game plan. Hayden wasn’t nearly as domineering as Lyssa had expected. He simply laid out what needed to be done and asked her where she felt most comfortable contributing. Because he wasn’t being a jerk about it, she didn’t mind volunteering to do the grunt work of running statistics to narrow the field of potential candidates.

“In the meantime,” Hayden said as they exited the cab and approached their building, “I’ll go through the usual suspects to see if any could be a fit for DH. You up for a trip next week?”

“Project Pineapple is my top priority. Count me in.”

“Cute,” Hayden said, holding out an arm to offer Lyssa first dibs on the revolving door. She flushed as she made the rotation, realizing Hayden hadn’t been in on the pineapple joke. As he joined her in the lobby and their shoes clicked across the shiny tile to the elevator, he asked, “You give all your clients nicknames?”

“Are you collecting more info to add to the
cream no sugar
data?”

Hayden laughed and pushed the up button. “Maybe.”

“Should we tell the reports team to get working on a new chart, then? Maybe a line graph made of little coffee beans? Or should this be three-dimensional to take into account cream and sugar ratios in addition to nickname giving?”

“Laugh all you want, Bate, my methods work.”

She rolled her eyes as the elevator arrived and they stepped in.

One side of Hayden’s mouth rose in a smirk, and his eyes locked onto hers. “You’re just afraid of what I might’ve already figured out about you.”

There was no way he’d learned anything about her just by the kind of coffee she preferred. And yet … there was something unnerving about the steadiness with which he watched her. Like he knew things. The door opened, and they nodded to the receptionist as they passed, pushing through the glass doors to the main hall.

“So … ” Lyssa started, but he cut her off with the answer before she’d formed her question.

“Strong and black.” He pivoted toward his office. As he moved down the hall in the opposite direction of Lyssa’s cubicle, she was very glad she couldn’t see the smug grin she was certain must’ve graced his features.

 

* * *

 

“You’re already so delicious,” Keith murmured, his lips groping Lyssa’s neck as he worked his way to her chin and then straight down to the tops of her breasts, which bulged over the top of her cami. She wore only that and a pair of bikini panties.

Earlier that evening, she and her boyfriend had cut into the congratulatory pineapple he’d brought her the week before. They wanted to test the urban legend they’d heard about the effect of the tropical fruit on the flavor of human secretions after digestion. They’d agreed it’d be best for Keith to go first since Lyssa deserved the first reward of the pineapple.

His hands pushed under the elastic of her undies and clutched at her fleshy bottom while his tongue pushed below her thin top to flick at a protruding nipple. “God, Lyss, you’re beautiful,” he said between mouthfuls.

She held his dirty blond head to her and pushed her pelvis into him, letting him know she was ready. It always took her a bit to become comfortable with the idea of someone sticking his face between her legs. He pushed his body into hers until she lay sideways across the open futon, and then he kissed his way down her body until reaching his goal and sliding off the fabric that covered it.

His tongue was warm and wet as he probed, and Lyssa held her smile tight, holding back a laugh at the initial contact, which always tickled to a nearly unbearable degree. As her tender labia became accustomed to the steady rhythm of his licks, she relaxed. “Any sweeter?” she asked.

He pulled back slightly, and she felt his breath on her wetness as he huffed. “You’re always sweet, baby. But yeah, maybe a little sweeter.” He gave her several small kisses and then went in deeper, reemerging to add, “I’m sure the big payoff will happen when you come.”

“Ah.” Leaning her head all the way back, she closed her eyes, thinking,
No pressure
. She didn’t have the greatest orgasm average when it came to oral.

While Keith worked at her, she hitched one leg over his shoulder and combed her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. She didn’t want to disappoint him by not climaxing—especially tonight, when it promised to pour forth Pina Colada-flavored juices. She relished his tender ministrations and did what she could to coax his head to the angle she desired. When he hit a particularly receptive spot, she encouraged him with a soft, “Yeah, that’s good.” But after a couple more swipes, he failed to re-strike the chord and moved on.

It all felt very nice, but Lyssa found herself yearning for … more. The vibrator was in the drawer of the side table. Reaching her arm over her head, she stretched her fingers but swiped at air, inches away from the drawer pull. She could tell Keith to hold up for a moment while she grabbed the toy and fired it up, but her intuition told her that after kicking him out of bed the week before, it might not be wise to blatantly pre-empt him in favor of her new favorite gadget. Even still, as enthusiastic as his tongue was, it simply wasn’t humanly possible for him to reach the speeds she now craved. Maybe if she slowly eased the device into their activity, he wouldn’t mind.

BOOK: Vibrizzio
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