Dangerous Curves: Naughty Little Secrets (3 page)

P.S. Call me Nick

Call me Nick? I felt a jumble of emotions hit me all at once. I was stunned. Embarrassed. Mortified…and slightly excited.
Was Nick Colby flirting with me? No, it had to be my imagination. I wasn’t his type.

Still, I couldn’t resist being slightly playful back.
Short and sweet had worked before, so I tried it again. Only I pushed a bit further this time.

To:
Nicholas Colby

From:
Violet Lewis

Subject:
re: re: Your naughty little secret

Okay, Nick it is then!

P.S. Call me anytime. :)

He took my instructions literally. Less than a minute after I’d hit send on the e-mail, my desk phone rang. It was a 212 area code, coming from a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hello,
Violet,” said a deep, sexy voice. “This is Nick Colby. I hope this isn’t too late. Thought I will point out you said to call you anytime….”

If I’d been stunned before, now I was downright flabbergasted.
When I’d written “call me anytime” it had been a flirty little joke, and I’d regretted it the instant I hit sent. I hadn’t actually
expected
him to call.

I looked at the clock on the bottom right-hand corner of my computer screen. It read
2:38 a.m. I should be leaving work soon.

“Well, it is a
little
late….” I said jokingly. “But it’s not like I was sleeping.”

“
I gathered as much.” He laughed. “Either way, I won’t keep you,” he promised. “With all those e-mails, I thought it might be best to just pick up the phone and call.”

“I see,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. It was no use. My heart was beating at a thousand miles a minute. I was having a hard time concentrating. What
could he possibly want?

I was thinking,” he said. “That we should meet.”

“We have met,” I blurted out, and instantly feel foolish. That was a long time ago. At a huge staff event with hundreds of people. After Nick had commanded the room with his speech, we’d been introduced, briefly. But I didn’t expect him to remember.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “December, three years ago.”

He remembered? I felt my heart beat even faster.

“But that’s not what I’m talking about. I was t
hinking of something a bit more…private.”

“Oh,” I gulped. I was so shocked I couldn’t quite manage to answer.

“I had an idea I’d like to run past you,” Nick began. “A proposition of sorts. Would you like to come by my office tomorrow after work to discuss it in person? Say eight p.m.?”

Of all the things I expected Nick Colby to say this was not one of them. A proposition? Come by his office? I could barely find my voice long enough to speak, but I somehow got out the word, in what I hoped was a confident tone.

“Yes.”

I had no earthly idea what kind of “proposition” Nicholas Colby could have for me, but I spent the entire next day anxious waiting to find out.

I was only scheduled to work a half day – Mariah’s “reward” for me coming in on my day off – so I had plenty of time to get ready. I’d been planning to duck out early and get a manicure, pedicure and blow-out. But things at
Brown-Eyed Girl
ended up being busier than expected and I wasn’t able to slip away from the office until it was almost time for our meeting.

Ah, well. I’d have to go “as is” – wavy hair, self-painted nails and a dress I’d picked up from the plus-size section of Target a few days before. It was hardly haute couture – I was pretty sure I was the only girl to ever venture to Mr. Colby’s office without wearing an outfit that came straight off the runway. Never the less, you had to work with what
got, as they always say.  

Nick had sent an e-mail earlier in the day to confirm our meeting that night. In it, he’d mentioned casual attire
, so I figured something off the racks of Target should suffice.

When I arrived at his office – an enormous building on Madison Avenue, I immediately felt underdressed and outclassed.
I was reminded of one of the first rules I learned when I moved to New York: no matter how hard you try, you never seem to be wearing the right outfit. Tonight was no exception – although, to be honest, I hadn’t even tried that hard. Sure, the dress was super cute and it really accentuated all of my curves, but what was I thinking showing up in such a casual outfit? So what if Nick’s e-mail had instructed me to do so? This was likely a business meeting, and even his assistant was wearing at three-piece suit.

Right off the bat, I was informed that Nicholas was running late. His assistant was apologetic – something about a last-minute conference call – as he showed me to an enormous boardroom on the 45
th
floor. He told me to make myself comfortable until Mr. Colby arrived, then proceeded to ask what I’d like to drink. I told him I was fine, and he left, only to return a minute later to double check that I’d really wanted nothing.

Finally, after I sensed he wasn’t going to leave me alone until I said yes, I agreed to a mineral water.

“Nothing stronger, Ms. Lewis?”

“No, water will be fine.”

I was dying for a glass of wine, even a vodka tonic, but the last thing I wanted to do was get drunk while I waited for Nicholas. I figured it was best to have all of my faculties when we discussed this “proposition.”

I had no idea what he was going to propose.
A job, maybe?  He certainly had the power to do that.

Perhaps this was the big break I’d been waiting for? I was thrilled at the prospect, but it seemed a little odd that he’d called me all the way down here to discuss a simple promotion. Nicholas Colby was a busy man. If he wanted Mariah to promote me,
to allow me to become a writer for the magazine, why not send over an e-mail instructing her to do just that? Why take the time out of your schedule to meet with me in person? And, come to think of it, if this was about work, why wasn’t Mariah here?

I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe I did need that drink after all. I looked around for Mr. Colby’s assistant, but he’d seemingly vanished into thin air.

Never matter. A minute later Mr. Colby finally arrived.

“Violet,” he said, walking into the room. I struggled to keep from gasping out loud. He was even more handsome than I remembered. Well over six feet tall, with a full head of da
rk brown hair and piercing brown eyes. I was relieved to see that, true to his e-mail, he’d dressed casually – in a pair of khakis and a light blue polo shirt. I could see his bronzed, muscular body poking out from underneath the short sleeves.

It was almost cruel. How could one man have so much? Infinite wealth and succe
ss, plus incredible good looks? And he was only 35-years-old.

“Thank you so much for waiting, Violet,” he said. “I apologize for being late.”

“That’s okay,” I told him.

“I see
my assistant has brought you some mineral water.” He nodded approvingly. “Would you like something else to drink?”

I considered my answer. I was tempted to say, “vodka tonic – and hold the tonic,” but I thought better of it.
A little alcohol would really go a long way to steeling my nerves right now, but I didn’t want to come across as a lush. “What are you having?” I asked.

“
Well,” he glanced at his watch, “I’m done with work for the day and I usually like to unwind with a glass of scotch in the evenings,” he said. “But given that you were coming over I’ve had some white wine chilling in the fridge. There’s red, as well, if you’d prefer that.”

“White’s great,” I said.

I expected him to call for his assistant, but he stood up and walked around the boardroom table and over to a small fridge in the corner. He got out a bottle of sauvignon blanc and produced two glasses. A moment later, he’d set them down in front of me and was pouring our drinks. 

“So how was your day, Violet?” he asked.
“Anything interesting going on?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond.
Um, yes, I’ve been summoned by a handsome billionaire to discuss a proposition. Other than that, nothing interesting.
Didn’t really seem like an appropriate thing to say.

“Good,” I said, sipping my wine. “Busy.” I took another drink, swirled the liquid around in my mouth, savoring the taste. “Yours?”

“The same,” he said. “I had a lot of business in Japan to deal with. I’m afraid my company over there isn’t doing so hot at the moment,” he revealed. “It looks like I’ll be forced to take a trip to Tokyo to straighten things out.”

“When do you leave?” I asked.

“In a day or so,” he replied. “I haven’t finalized my schedule yet.” He took a sip of his wine. “Some of that will depend on what happens in this meeting.”

I knew I should respond somehow – a quick or witty one-liner would have been perfect. But I was too tongue-tied to think of anything. Instead, I waited for him to g
o on.

“I mentioned on the phone yesterday that I have a proposition for you,” he began. “Would you like to know what it is?”

Would I like to know? YES! PLEASE! I AM DYING TO KNOW! DON’T MAKE ME WAIT A SECOND LONGER.

“I’m a little curious,” I said, hoping I sounded confident and casual, hoping he didn’t know that I was dying inside.

“Very well then,” he took another sip of his wine, and then said: 

“I want to be the first man to give you an orgasm.”

Of all the things I expected to hear, this was not one of them. Then he added:

“In fact, I’d like to up the stakes
even more than that. I think you and I are in a very unique situation here, Violet, and, if you’re game, I’d like to propose something that could be very beneficial to both of us.”

I nodded for him to continue.

“You see, Violet, the thrill of bringing a woman to orgasm is one of life’s greatest pleasures. I find more joy in giving pleasure than in receiving it; I always have. After reading your column yesterday, I was instantly taken by the fact that you’ve been living in a rather deprived state for entirely too long. All these years now, and you’ve yet to experience this incredible pleasure while you were in the arms of another? You’ve only been able to reach orgasm when you were alone?”

I could feel my full body blush starting to creep on, and I was mortified. When I blush, it’s not a pretty, rosy-cheeked thing.
I don’t blush gracefully. I turn full-on violent red. I drank some more wine, hoping it would calm me down.

“I think that’s a shame, and it’s a situation I’d like to correct.”

What? What was he talking about here?

“I have a rare bit of free time coming up in my
schedule between now and July,” Nicholas said. “And I’m proposing that for the next thirty days you and I engage in an exclusive, mutually beneficial relationship.”

“And what exactly did you have in mind?” I asked.

Nick laughed lightly. “I suppose I have been rather vague. Allow me to explain. “Reading your column, learning your ‘naughty little secret,’ evoked a lot of emotions in me.”

“It did?” I asked, swallowing.

“Yes. And as I reached the end, all I could think about was how much I wanted to pleasure you, how much I wanted to bring you to orgasm again and again.” 

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“You’ve missed out on a lot, Violet. I’d like to spend the next month making up for that lost time.”

I blinked hard, trying to absorb his words. Had Nick Colby,
the
Nick Colby, really just offered to spend the next month satisfying me in bed? Was that what he was saying? I could feel a gentle pulsing starting between my legs. I was having a hard time remaining calm. His words, what he was proposing, just the thought of it…it was making it hard to sit still.

Before I could respond, he continued. “And that’s not all. I’d like to propose a little game of sorts.”

“A game?” I repeated.

“Yes,” he said.

I couldn’t imagine what else he would say. It was already so crazy.

“
At the risk of bragging, I’m quite masterful in the bedroom.”

It wasn’t bragging if it was true. And based on the stories
I’d heard….

“
In order for this arrangement to work out, in order for me to give you more pleasure than you can imagine, you’ll have to let me set the rules – all of them. You’ll do what I say, allow me to do what I want to you at all times. Are you okay with that?”

At all times?

I
wasn’t
sure I understood. And I definitely wasn’t sure I was okay with this arrangement.

Sensing my discomfort, he added, “I’ll be respectful of your limits, don’t worry about that. But I’d like to push you
just a little past your comfort zone. That’s the game I’m suggesting here,” he said, locking his eyes on mine. “Those are the rules. Are you in, or are you out?”