Fits Like a Glove Page 3

  "Sir?"

  "Yeah. Some of these questions. They're..."

  "Too difficult to understand?” Miss Charlotte Skye supplied with a tiny grin turning up the corners of her mouth. Guy nearly groaned. The woman had dimples.

  A second before he realized she had almost insulted him, she took the paper from his hand and glanced at his first answer. “Was it the second question you were stumbling over?"

  It was a tease. She was baiting him, but somehow it didn't bother him.

  "Yeah. I was wondering what you meant by challenging my manhood.” He frowned down at her for emphasis, to see if she would rise to the bait.

  "Exactly what it implies, Mr..."

  "Stenson. Guy Stenson."

  She stared at him for another handful of seconds, then nodded and gestured for him to follow her. They left the room almost unnoticed, walked back to the reception area, and continued past it, down another hallway until she stopped in front of a glass door. Guy noticed the gold lettering giving her name and title of President/C.E.O. when he went inside.

  They bypassed the outer room where her assistant had a desk, and entered a large, expansive inner office. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked downtown. Guy gave an appreciative whistle at the view.

  "Thank you,” Miss Skye replied. “It's the best thing about this office, in my opinion. Have a seat, Mr. Stenson."

  He was too damn nervous to sit, and that irritated him to the point of anger. What did he have to be nervous about? Her?

  "If you don't mind, I'd rather stand,” he said, hoping it didn't sound as whiney as he thought it did.

  She nodded as she took her seat in the huge black leather chair that almost swallowed her whole. Immediately Guy knew it had been her father's chair. In fact—he gave the office a quick once-over—there seemed to be very little in the place that spoke of her. At least, that was the impression he got. Other than the fresh gold leaf on the outer hallway door, Guy wondered how long it had been since her old man had passed away. Faint memory reminded him there had been something said about cancer, but the rest was too vague.

  He watched as she picked up the paper and pulled a pen from the desk drawer in front of her. What was she fixing to do? Give him an oral exam?

  At the thought of an oral exam, his imagination back-flipped, and an image he wanted to pursue but knew he couldn't leaped into his mind's eye. Well, hell. Maybe later, he promised himself, suppressing a grin.

  Thank God Miss Skye couldn't read minds. “Okay, you stated you would be willing to test the products we plan on introducing.” She looked up at him with those whiskey brown eyes. “Are you clear about what is intended by that request, Mr. Stenson?"

  "Crystal. You want to know if I would be willing to make love to someone to test it fully."

  By heavens, the woman blushed, Guy realized. Miss I-Represent-a-Major-Manufacturer-of-Condoms just went a pretty rose pink, although she tried to give the impression of being unaffected.

  She cleared her throat. “Good. That's exactly what it asks. I'm glad to see we're on the same page. Now, this second question—"

  "The one that asks about my manhood? That one I didn't get,” he admitted.

  Miss Skye cleared her throat again. “Well, to be blunt, if we had a product that dressed your member up in a costume of sorts—"

  Guy interrupted her a second time. “A costume? You mean, with a little hat or vest? That kind of costume?” He suddenly got a visual image of his dick wearing a little overcoat and a fedora, so he could reach over and let it flash itself at its leisure. The idea was ludicrous, yet amusing.

  To his shock, the woman gave a small shrug. “In a way, yes. Would you be averse to at least trying them on?"

  Guy knew the wrong answer would automatically drop him from the rapidly narrowing list of candidates. Still, he wondered who all would be privy to his embarrassment.

  Miss Skye seemed to read his mind after all. “Mr. Stenson, I can assure you that the only person who would need to inspect the condom for safety and conformity would be Dr. Marling. It won't be as if you would be required to walk about in front of others,” she added with another one of those dimple-producing smiles.

  Those dimples were going to be the death of him. And because of that, Guy knew he was ready to go down that chute again full steam. Which was exactly what he didn't need, this soon after his divorce. Hell, he needed to get involved with another woman like he needed a hole in his head. And a company president, at that!

  What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?

  As if in answer, his dick leapt to attention. That's what's wrong with you, he silently derided himself. You're horny.

  "Mr. Stenson?"

  She's a raving beauty in a form-fitting outfit, and you would love to get personally acquainted with her.

  "All right. Yeah. Okay."

  "No, you wouldn't be averse to testing a product that might challenge your manhood, or yes, you would be?” she double-checked.

  Guy shook his head. “I don't mind."

  "Very good.” She jotted his answer down before going on to the next question. He wondered how many there were, and mentally kicked himself for not scanning the questionnaire before he'd started to fill it out. “Question three, would you be adverse to wearing a product made of animal skin or other animal parts?"

  "Umm, no."

  "Four, have you ever had to use any chemical means to achieve erection?"

  "No."

  He watched her nodding as she scribbled on the line next to the question. If he didn't know any better, he would swear she was getting a kick out of the whole interview process.

  "Five, your application states you're divorced. If you were required to test one of our products in the privacy of your own home, would that be a problem?"

  Whiskey colored eyes stared unabashedly at him. Guy started. “Is that question really on the questionnaire?” he challenged.

  "Umm, no.” She paused, then laid the paper back on the desk and visibly braced herself. “Mr. Stenson, I'll be honest with you. I've been perusing several applications, yours being one of them. Didn't you wonder why I brought you here to personally question you, when the rest of the crowd is on the other side of the building?"

  "The thought crossed my mind, but I wasn't going to risk being kicked out by asking."

  She flashed him another grin and leaned back in that big, overstuffed leather chair. Her tiny figure looked doll size in it. “Why do you need the money?” she suddenly asked, bluntly. Her unexpected, all-business tone of voice managed to lift one corner of his mouth.

  "Getting a little more personal now?"

  "It's the actual question to number five,” she snapped.

  Sighing, Guy answered, “Alimony."

  "Ah. How long were you married?"

  Now he knew that question couldn't be on the paper. In fact, it was obvious Miss Skye had decided to veer away from the questionnaire altogether. For what reason, he couldn't begin to guess. And why she had singled him out, that part threw him for a loop, too. But she had, and she was, and he had no choice but to be up front and truthful. What other choice did he have?

  "Two months."

  She almost choked. “Beg pardon? Two months?"

  "Technically four months, but we only lived together for two. I moved out two months ago. The divorce was finalized this week."

  "On what grounds?"

  "Incompatibility."

  "Of course."

  Guy frowned. “Don't believe me?"

  To her credit, Miss Skye mulled over his statement. “What happened?"

  "Hell if I know.” He dragged both hands through his hair, missing the admiring gleam in her eyes. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. We met through a mutual friend. In fact, that's where I'm living now, with that friend, until I can get back on my feet financially."

  "She took you for every last dime you had?” the woman surmised.

  "Yeah.” This time he managed a weaker grin. The shafting was still too fr
esh a wound.

  "Why?"

  He threw her a quick frown. “Why what?"

  "Why did she do that to you?"

  "Because that's Ramona. Hell, I don't know why for sure."

  "Was she a good lay?"

  "Yeah.” Guy bobbed his head a couple of times. “A really fine lay, but—"

  "But you had to pay for it,” Miss Skye finished with him. The woman was marching in step right alongside.

  "Exactly,” he admitted. Now that he was made to look back on it, he could see how Ramona had used him like a hooker with her favorite john. Pat poor Guy on the head, give him a little nookie, then hold him by the balls until he antes up with the “payment".

  "How did she convince the court to side in her favor?"

  "She told them she had no skills to enable her to get a job that would support her, but she was willing to go back to college and earn a degree. The judge gave her enough alimony to cover her expenses until she got her paper. As soon as she does, the extra payments will end."

  "But in the meantime you're subsisting on bologna sandwiches?"

  "Fraid so."

  "Did you love her?"

  For some reason, although he'd half-expected her to ask him that question, having it brought up still managed to irk him. “I thought I did. Guess I was wrong."

  He watched in surprise as the woman removed herself from the depths of the big black chair and walked around the desk, toward him. She stopped less than a yard away and stuck her hand out to shake his.

  "Mr. Stenson, I would like to invite you to come on board as a paid employee of Skye Blue. Feel free to think it over. And if you agree to our terms, please come back tomorrow evening at seven where you can fill out your W-4 and get started working."

  A huge weight lifted from his shoulders, leaving him light-headed. What was the old saying that it always got darkest before the dawn? Hell, the sun was just starting to come up!

  "I don't need to think about it, Miss Skye. I accept."

  She lifted an eyebrow at him and grinned. Dammit, but he was definitely going to have wet dreams about her tonight.

  "Are you sure?” she asked. “You don't even know what the pay is."

  "Rumor said it around two hundred an hour,” he told her.

  "Umm, not quite that much, but close. A hundred seventy-five. Still interested?"

  "What are my hours?"

  "Depends on how long it takes you to go through each testing session, but we guarantee to pay you for two and a half hours per night, whether it takes you that long or not."

  "And how long do you think my services will be needed?"

  That one got an honest laugh out of her. “We sell condoms, Mr. Stenson. There will always be new products to test. How often and when you choose to come in is up to you."

  "Sounds good,” he smiled back. “Oh, and you can call me Guy."

  "Charlotte."

  They shook hands. Despite her hand being small and amazingly soft, her grip was firm. Immediately Guy wondered how it would feel around his erection that was already burning a hole in his pants at that moment.

  Once she showed him the door, Guy left the offices with an uplifting attitude he hadn't felt in years. As he passed one store window, he glanced at his reflection to catch the big shit-eating grin pasted on his face.

  Welcome to the company, Guy Stenson. And congratulations on your promotion ... to first name basis with the boss!

  First name today, first base tomorrow.

  Guy wondered what it would take to make a grand slam.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Prod

  I'm must be insane.

  Charlotte stood at her office windows and watched the man hurry down the sidewalk, heading for the corner. She was so intent on studying him that she didn't hear her assistant enter the room.

  "Are you insane?"

  Turning around, she gave the woman a little shrug. “I was just asking myself that very same question."

  "You broke protocol!” Pamela reminded her, as if she wasn't already aware of that fact.

  "I'd already made up my mind to hire him. I just wanted to ask him a couple of questions first."

  "Before he filled out the questionnaire?"

  Pamela could get away with talking to her like that. But she was the only person who could. The woman had worked for Henry Skye since before she was born. And there was no one else Charlotte trusted more to be honest and up front with her.

  "I was sure to ask him the questions while he was here."

  "So why did you pull him out of the pack?” Pam insisted, still standing by the closed door. The only time the older woman would speak out would be when there was no one else to witness. It was one of the many reasons why Charlotte trusted her.

  "He's cute."

  "He's what? Cute?"

  "Oh, come on, Pam, he already passed the first two hurdles. I wanted to know why he was seeking the job. So I skipped over the wait for the questionnaire and went straight to the interview. I'm entitled."

  The assistant chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Well? What did you find out?"

  "He's newly divorced and having to hand over a whale of an alimony."

  "Somebody let go of a good looking guy like him? For what reason? Did he say?"

  "Incompatibility, after just a couple of months."

  "You're joshing me! What's wrong with him? Sad in the sack?"

  Charlotte's eyes flew open, and she giggled. “Pam!"

  "He does have a nice package on him, in case you haven't noticed,” the older woman supplied. When she was answered with a full-on blush, she added, “All right. So I'm not the only one who noticed. Give. What's the story on him? Does he have an older brother?"

  This time both women laughed openly and freely before sitting down and going over Guy Stenson's credentials.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Proximity

  The testing facilities were in the same building as the offices, instead of at the factory, which was fine with Guy. Being in the same proximity as the president of the company meant it was very likely they could bump into each other. Or, if he was really lucky, she might come to check out how things were going. He hoped his intuition that this woman wanted to personally keep her finger on the pulse of every detail proved true.

  When he had gotten back to the apartment last night, Guy had checked the internet to read up about Skye Blue Condoms. Now he had a better grasp on what was going on. The business was sinking fast on the stock market, which could only mean it was heading for bankruptcy. No doubt Miss Charlotte was determined to keep her father's company from going under. And apparently she was hoping to introduce some new lines that would prevent that from happening.

  As soon as he exited onto the sixth floor, the woman behind the counter greeted him and asked for his name. She slapped the requisite IRS tax form in front of him and handed him a pen. Less than a minute later, a young man dressed in a lab coat came to take him back to a small room. It was one of many rooms lining both sides of the hallway. Inside was a sink and counter, and a padded examination table. A small cabinet sat on the wall above the sink, but otherwise the room was bare.

  The orderly indicated a manila folder sitting on the counter. “Just follow these directions. When you're finished, you're free too leave. Just be sure to leave the folder here."

  "I don't have to punch a time clock or anything?” Guy asked.

  "The receptionist keeps track of your time in and out. If you have any questions or concerns, and need an actual person to assist you, you can punch the button on the wall, and someone will respond."

  Need an actual person to assist him? How assist? How much help does a fella need to put on a condom?

  Amused, Guy nodded, and the orderly left. As soon as the door was closed, he went over to the folder that had his name neatly typed on the tab. There were two sheets of paper inside: one contained a list of instructions, the other was for his responses. Direction number one answered
his first question before he could utter it.

  The product you will be testing is located in the cabinet above the sink. There are also some aides in the cabinet if you need help preparing yourself.

  "What the...?"

  There was a small cardboard box in the cabinet. Next to it was a package of moistened towelettes. There was also a small pile of magazines sitting on the next shelf. Guy pulled one out to glance at the header. Hardcore pussy mags. Well, they could remain in the cabinet for all he cared. He had something better that would get him hard, and in no time flat.

  In fact, he was already at half-staff as it was. He opened the box to see what was inside.

  Fruit flavored condoms.

  Guy stared at the red packet lying in his palm.

  Not for actual use as a prophylactic.

  "Not for ... what the hell.” What was he supposed to test it for? Leakage or taste?

  A soft knock at the door interrupted his train of thought. It was a good thing he hadn't dropped his pants yet.

  "Come in."

  Glancing back at the little plastic square in his hand, he looked up to see a familiar figure slip inside and shut the door behind her. Then lock it.

  At first he didn't know if he needed to ask her to leave, or if there was a good reason for the president of the company for being there. Either way, just the sight of her, and the whiff of whatever cologne she was wearing, was enough to send his dick from half-mast to full, rigid attention. Dammit, she was like a magnet, and his cock was more than ready to attach itself to her.

  "Good evening, Guy."

  "Hello.” He started to ask her why she was there, then decided it wasn't important. It was her company. He would play the new employee role and see how far it got him. And pray she was coming up to bat, and looking for a four-run homer.

  Guy waggled the condom at her. “Fruit flavored?"

  Charlotte sat down on the examination table. “We're looking into a line of fun items. Play toys that aren't actual condoms, but which imitate them."