Something Naughty chapter 1 T his lotion is lightly lubricating, and the floral scent is not overpowering. Would you like to try it?" Tanika Davis extended the bottle to Damon Becker''s open hand and a droplet accidentally spilled over, landing in his palm. "Oops! I''m sorry." She looked around for tissue but he was already crushing the dab of cream with his hands as if it were paper he could crumble. "Sorry about that," she apologized. He mumbled something she couldn''t quite hear. Tanika hurried to put the top back on, briefly wished her sister was in her shoes to handle the situation, rather than still at the hospital, happily nursing her brand-new baby. At the moment, twenty-seven hours of labor didn''t sound so bad.
It beat the heck out of doing a sales pitch to the Patron Saint of Propriety. Her first impulse when she met him was to drag him into the nearest closet and uncork her sexual frustrations. Three seconds later she realized he hadthe personality of a butler. And it was definitely not the kind that made hot monkey love in supply closets. "Need a tissue?" she asked politely when he continued to rub his palms together. "No, thanks." His head was clean-shaven, his features were roughly attractive, and his skin absolutely flawless. To top it off, he was wearing a black suit that looked perfect in the light.
He had the intensity of a preacher and the brawniness of a linebacker. Truth be told, she was having trouble getting past his body. Mmm, mmm, good! But when he steepled his fingers like that, he looked painfully allergic to the slightest sin. "If the lotion''s not your type, don''t worry. It''s a subtle scent that washes off with soap. But if you like it, all it needs is a little body heat to linger." She smiled, hoping he''d show some levity. To no surprise, she watched him across the narrow boardroom table as he glanced sternly down at the stack of papers before him.
"There are products here that are anything but subtle, Ms. Davis." Brother. Was he for real? "Actually, Naughty Devil offers a range of products, from the elegant and, yes, subtle, to the bold and sassy." He pointed to the array of products before him. "We could start with the lingerie and exotic lotions, but the other kinky toys do not belong in a women''s clothing store." Kinky? Not unless his clients were all monks, and even then! Had no one ever used a little fun-bondage on this guy? "We only carry a handful of ''toys,'' and they are only available online. These velvet handcuffs are hardly kinky, Mr.
Becker," she said with a careful smile. She glanced at his large hands, certain the velvet would be snug and tight around his wrists, but they would fit. Maybe behind his back instead of the headboard, but-- He gave her a look that seemed to read her thoughts. "My clientele would consider them playful," she said, holding tight to her smile. The slightest furrow of his brow was comment enough. Deciding not to fall into the trap of explaining herself, Tanika took a large gulp of her cooling coffee, then charged on. "As a matter of fact, high-level executives make up a large percentage of our repeat customers, and not just for lotions and lingerie. It''s why your VP asked me to work with you on an advertising strategy.
" His frown deepened. "I''ve looked over your product selection and I don''t see a simple way to blend them in the catalog. I propose we keep half the catalog for the Becker Apparel items and half for ND items. We can even print one catalog upside down from the other, give them a little juxtaposition. How does that sound?" "Mutual placement is the key, Mr. Becker. A marketing strategy has already been discussed with your grandmother." He leaned back, his shoulders holding his tension like boulders.
He looked like he was about to say something but instead he briefly nodded his shaven, perfectly shaped head, looking resigned. "I see." Tanika felt a twinge of pity for him. "I was expecting to meet with your grandmother, the CEO, today." He leaned back. "She asked me to convey her apologies for not being able to attend. However, she wanted me to review the ads, if you have them." "I do.
" "Then by all means, please continue." He didn''t have to look like she was requesting a prostate exam, for crissake. "Is there a problem?" he asked. She widened her stiff smile. "Actually, there was. We couldn''t book our original model, and because of time restrictions, we substituted. Perhaps another meeting with your grandmother would be--" "Ms. Davis.
" He leaned forward again, all wide shoulders and intensity stretched taut. "I''m sure the model you chose will do nicely." Hmm. "Of course." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at her tone of voice. She tapped her pencil in her hand. "Well, then ." D amon noticed Tanika''s tone didn''t change one bit, but she looked distinctly annoyed.
Her attitude emanated from her in waves, sparking in her eyes. Dazzling eyes. Sultry. Like dark amber in sunlight. Despite her business suit, luscious curves, and a perfectly conservative French knot, her eyes were the epitome of seductive temptation. Everything about her was so unmistakably feminine. There was nothing he could put his finger on precisely, just a natural comfortable sensuality about her body, an unconscious femininity that was almost blatantly sexual . and yet wasn''t.
She quietly cleared her throat and he briefly refocused on the pen in his hand as he listened to her. "We market our products with the Naughty Devil logo, so here are some ideas of how I would approach joint placement in ads. As you will see, our products are not as incompatible as you''d think." Tanika placed a large portfolio case on the table. The sand-brown tailored jacket she wore was molded to the lush roundness of her breasts and a faint satin-on-satin sound reached his ears. The barest scent of an unknown fragrance wafted over to distract him. Lily? No, that was too soft. Definitely not roses.
Orchids? Musk? No, greener. What was it? "Here is a glimpse of our hosiery and one of your suits." She straightened a photo of a man in a Becker Fine Tailoring suit, hands fisted in his trouser pocketsas if to hide an erection in his pants. He boldly stared at the camera with an almost thuglike challenge. A woman hid behind him, eyes laughing as she peered over his shoulder wearing reading glasses, pencils sticking out of her coiffure. Halfway down, the angle of the shot showed off one of her legs, long, sensuous, and encased in thigh-high black nylons . all the way down to the burgundy high-heeled pumps. Sexy.
The laughing eyes halted him. Amber eyes. "You?" "Well, as I mentioned, I thought I was going to meet with your grandmother. I no longer do modeling work--" "You were a model?" "Mostly for size twelve. Obviously not for anything less. But anyway, we had a booking conflict, so ." She sighed. "I was assured this would not be an issue.
" He looked back at the photo, studying the very long, very sexy leg. "No. Not an issue." Right. Sure. Was getting a hard-on considered an issue? "Should I continue?" He nodded. "By all means." She turned to the next photo and didn''t bother with an explanation.
It didn''t need one. The body shot of a woman pushed back on the edge of a desk was graphic enough. Her plaidBecker skirt was around her hips, the photo showing just enough of her bare inner thigh to titillate. A man in pin-striped Becker trousers stood between her legs, the belt dangling suggestively. At the point where the skirt gathered at her hips, a tiny tattoo of the Naughty Devil peeked out. Damon felt instantly transported into the picture, dry-mouthed and shocked by the rush of blood to his groin. He could practically feel the heat of her vagina against his cock. The apt tagline "You can have it on his desk by the end of the day" was written in red cursive.
Sweet Mother of Moses! "Here''s a shot of the lingerie," she continued. In it, Tanika lounged in an executive chair in nothing but a Becker trench coat. She was speaking into a microrecorder in her hand and studying a thick open binder in her lap, seemingly oblivious to how the coat fell open to reveal the curve of a lace-covered breast and torso. Her mouth was parted, just inches from where her red-tipped nails held the microrecorder, the gloss on her lips inviting unscrupulous thoughts. The caption read "Dictation method no. 5." He forced himself not to shift in his seat. He was tempted to bring the image closer and study that perfect mouth, but she turned to the next ad.
It invited blow job fantasies. Damn . And there she was again but this time in a gym shower. She stood with her back to him, naked butfor a man''s shirt--Becker, no doubt--and tight-knit fishnet stockings and garters. The cotton shirt looked deliciously translucent in the places where the shirt touched her skin, like wet icing. The damned tattoo appeared again on her thigh, just under the rippling crease of water. Was it real? The close-up shot captured the chill on her skin and made him want to run his hand over the photo and warm her, caress her . "This one is for what you would refer to as kinky items.
" The photo looked like it had been taken in an elevator. A m.