“So are you,” he said softly, stroking her hair. He couldn’t believe she thought she needed to learn anything.
“I can tell why women adore you,” she said, continuing her compliments.
He tensed at the reminder of his playboy status, then told himself not to bristle. He was what he was. She hadn’t asked him for help because he batted ninth. He was a clean-up hitter, and so far with Casey he’d been belting home runs.
“I’m just glad you enjoyed it. And, by the way, you take direction exceedingly well, so I don’t know why you’re fixated on this idea that you—” but then he stopped short before he finished the thought—can’t give up control. He wanted her to still need him, so he edited himself. “Need to change, but you’re doing a great job learning how to give up control. So we’ll just keep teaching you.”
She moved off him, grabbed her iPad, and returned to her list. “Hmm,” she said, as she studied it. “I’m not sure which of the items I’m supposed to be checking off. What do you consider what we just did?”
He gritted his teeth, annoyed with the idea of being an item on a list. But hell, he was the one who’d brought up the list a minute ago. “Ball gag. Consider that an impromptu ball gag, since you couldn’t speak,” he said, rising. He turned to face her. “Oh, and in case this helps you on your list, you can check that you liked it. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
After a quick restroom trip to wash his hands, he visited with the dogs, giving each a soft pat, then returned to Casey. She was scrolling through an email.
“There’s a note from Grant about getting together in a month,” she said, a happy look on her face as she read the message. He was ready to grab the iPad and smash the damn thing.
“That’s great,” he said, closing his eyes, willing himself to not be irritated that she was excited. Grant was a man she could have a future with. Nate was a man who lived for the present.
CHAPTER SEVEN
New York City, afternoon . . .
Casey ran her thumb over the LolaRing, absently flicking it on as she chatted in her office with one of her top executives, Nelle O’Connor.
The miniature vibrator buzzed against her thumb as Nelle shared the updates on the various partnerships Joy Delivered had struck in the last year—a deal with a high-class boutique in Stockholm, a partnership with a leading department store in Paris—courtesy of Jack’s new European contacts—and even a pair-up with an upscale pharmacy called Sofia’s in London that Casey had a meeting with in two weeks. Sofia’s was a first in England—not many high-end pharmacies carried pleasure toys, but Sofia’s took a chance, adding a few Joy Delivered products to its shelves, and the partnership had been a runaway success. Those retail outlets had also been carrying The Wild One, a twelve-speed vibrator introduced two years ago that had won legions of fans.
Next up was the LolaRing.
“Did you and Abbot hammer out any of the positioning details last week?” the no-nonsense Nelle asked, and Casey nearly dropped the toy in surprise from the unintended double meaning.
“Not in great detail, but we’ll be doing that once he returns from Vietnam and Hong Kong,” she said, and was tempted to add among other things.
Well, she was getting ahead of herself thinking of other things. They’d need to start with dinner, with more getting-to-know-you before they got to other things. She certainly hoped they had a good time at dinner. And that he was a good guy too. And, of course, that he treated her well. Would it be too much to also want him to be well hung?
Like Nate.
Who knew he’d been packing that kind of heat all along? She was a lucky lady to be able to turn to a man like him for her bedroom makeover project. Because that man did not have a textbook dick. His dick was so beautiful it needed a nickname. Like JackHammer. Or Plow Me Now. Or Mouthwateringly Delicious. Or Long, Tall Piece of Man Candy.
Actually, those sounded more like marketing slogans that other sex toy makers might use, like her friends at Good Vibes. She loved that company and was in regular contact with the top execs, but they approached the market differently. Joy Delivered tried to operate at a cut above, but Nate had her stooping to all sorts of low levels. Like on her knees. Or maybe on her hands and knees next.
Okay, time for her wandering mind to get out of its down and dirty gutter, and focus on catching up with her top employee on Monday afternoon.
Nelle peered at Casey over the top of her fuchsia glasses. They were camped out on the purple couch in Casey’s office, the one she’d chosen for her brother when he was CEO, then reclaimed when he left for Paris.
“I’ve got some ideas I’d like to share with you for how to promote the partnership. Perhaps they’ll come in handy as we prep. Contracts told me the paperwork has already been sent over, so we might as well get moving,” Nelle said. The woman was both efficient and creative. Those twin qualities rarely resided in one body, but they did in Nelle, who’d been overseeing the rollout plans for the LolaRing.
The new toy had received through-the-roof reviews from The Happiest Ladies in the World, the product-testing group at the company. The toy marked an evolution in one of Joy Delivered’s most popular vibrators, the Lola, that simulated oral sex. It was an amazing device, and truly felt like the world’s most talented tongue. The LolaRing was a two-person toy, because it paired the Lola with a cock ring. Being man-free for the last year, Casey hadn’t been able to take the LolaRing for a test drive herself, but the Happiest Ladies had said in their product write-ups that it was “like being licked and fucked” at the same time. “Translation: Heaven, Absolute Heaven,” one of them had written.