Nightie Night: The Lingerie Series (Stir Sticks & Stilettos)

 

 

Nightie Night

(The Lingerie
Series)

 

 

Yvette
Hines

 

 

This is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

All rights
reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted
work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or
in print without written permission by the author.

 

Nightie
Night

Copyright ©
2013, Yvette Hines

Proofing
Editor: A. Jackson

 

This ebook
is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or
given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading
this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,
then please return to eStore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

 

Series Note:

I
hope you enjoy The Lingerie Series, a new short story edition of the “Stir
Sticks & Stilettos” series. This line of the SS&S will feature the
voluptuously, lovely, full-figured heroines of different ethnicities that are
confident, successful and not ashamed to flaunt their bodies in alluring
lingerie paired with sexy mouth-watering heroes as so many of my readers have
requested. These little nuggets of erotic shorts are meant to excite you, at
the same time, give you a little happiness at the end. Stay tuned for the next
stories to follow.

                                               

Love is not a sprint but a marathon
and the gift of it is given to those that endure to the end.

 

 

“Finally,” I proclaimed.

“Kalan, I thought we’d never finish
these preliminary audit reports.” Aaren Reston exhaled a loud breath as he
leaned back in the chair that he’d pulled to the other side of the coffee table
across from me while we worked.

“Six weeks on any project is way too
long.” Uncrossing my legs I let that foot fall hard against the floor and
shoved my fingers into my hair. The topknot I had quickly pulled the loose
strands into four hours ago was probably a mess. I had given up worrying about
my looks during the long nights Aaren and I had been sequestered in his office.

However, the man across from me
didn’t have the same problem. No matter the grueling hours, he always looked
hot and sexy. I allowed my gaze to take in his appearance. Aaren normally wore
a suit and tie, looking immaculate.  Now his tie was discarded on the top of
his desk and his jacket was draped on the back of his chair. At six foot four,
his broad shoulders and strong body had all the women in the uptown corporate
office sighing when he walked by. His dark brown hair and light green eyes just
made him even more irresistible.

Aaren was one of three senior
executives in the Pace Men’s Select corporate office in Charlotte. The big boss
had given Aaren the task of going through all the one hundred and forty-seven
stores’ records for as a pre-audit. Now that there were going to be major
changes coming up in the company with the shareholders having an outside
auditor coming in at the end of the month, Mr. Pace wanted an internal one
performed first. The boss didn’t want any surprises he said. I had been shocked
when Aaren came to me requesting my assistance. I would have thought he'd go
for my supervisor, senior executive of accounting, but that wasn’t the case.
Sharene Stone had told me I was a specific request by Aaren. Until we started
the project six weeks ago, I didn’t realize that Aaren even knew I existed.
There was no reason he should since we worked in two different departments.

Sharene made it plain to me that if
I did well on this project, there would be a promotion in the works for
me—district manager with more stores under my watch. If that wasn’t reason
enough for me to dive in with both feet, the opportunity to work up close with
Aaren was definitely an incentive.

It was two years ago when Aaren was
brought on board at the corporate office. He’d come from doing sales at one of
the big soda manufacturers in Charlotte. I would never forget the day I had
brought breakfast in for a co-worker and he walked into the Human Resources
office to complete his paperwork. The man had looked like he’d just walked out
of one of the company’s catalogues as a model. Tall, handsome and dressed well.

Dragging my eyes away from the
mouth-watering man, I leaned forward and picked up my cold coffee. “Mr. Pace
never considered having a few less big men’s formal and casual wear
stores.”Sipping the drink, I winced; when hot, the salted caramel mocha was
sublime, cold, it was appalling.

Aaren chuckled. “I’m sure we are
both tired of the faithful diet of coffee. I know my stomach is starting to eat
me from the inside out, hyped up from the caffeine.”

I laughed. My food intake had been
at an all time low since starting the in house audit. Forgetting myself, I took
another swig of the coffee and winced again. “Yuck. I forgot the horrid brew was
still in my hand.” I set it down and pushed the mug toward the center of the
table.

“How about I treat us both to
dinner?” He pointed an accusing finger at his cup. “Something a little
healthier and tastier.”

My mind played an image of me
sitting in a restaurant at an intimate table for two, the lights low as we
stared at each other over candlelight. The image morphed into me wearing the
wrinkled blouse and pencil skirt I currently had on and my hair looking like a
bird had landed in it and attempted to make a nest. I blinked and cleared the
vision.

“Um.” I rubbed my hands down the
front of my skirt, hoping to press out some of the creases in it. “I’m not
really presentable for public dining.”

Damn, I didn’t want to blow my
chance at a pseudo date with Aaren but I had to be honest.

“Perfect. I don’t feel like driving
around either or fighting with Friday night parking in the Queen City, so we’ll
order in.”

I stared at him for a moment then
looked down at the papers and laptops with our completed graphs and PowerPoint.
When we had work, it was easy to occupy my mind and keep from drifting into
erotic fantasy land but with the job done and nothing for us to talk about over
food I was hesitant.

“You don’t have other plans tonight,
do you?”

Tonight was family game night at my
parents' house, but I had already informed them I would not be there. So,
technically I was free. “Not really. I have time for dinner.”

His smile was bone melting and spine
tingling. “Great. Do you like Italian? That’s the only thing I happen to have
on speed dial for long nights.”

“I love it.”

He rose and went to his desk. “To be
honest, the only reason it’s the only thing in my phone is because it is my
favorite.”

I laughed. “Mine too. From pizza to
ravioli to spaghetti and everything in between.”

Pulling a tri-fold from his desk,
Aaren crossed back to me and handed me the menu. “Pick whatever you want.”

“Let’s see.” I made myself stare at
the food items instead of at the strong, wide hands of the man beside me. Those
hands with their blunt fingertips and neatly trimmed nails. I loved a man that
kept himself groomed. Not in an extreme metro-sexual way, I didn’t want him
pretty, just one that cared for himself. The thought of those hands palming and
squeezing my breasts or holding my ass had my sex throbbing. With him standing
so close, I had to press my thighs together and not squirm.

He sat next to me. “I love their
veal scallopini with mushrooms.”

The warmth of his body so close to
mine had me wanting to moan. He wasn’t even touching me, but the right side
where he sat was honest-to-goodness tingling as if every cell in my body had
flooded there and was reaching toward him. It made no sense. I’d never been
this mentally and physically attracted to any man. Not even my first love when I
was in college. What was it about Aaren Reston?

“That sounds really good.” I looked
over the items slowly, repeating each name in my head just to keep my
imagination from roaming.

“If not that then their lasagna
rivals anyone’s.” He pointed at the item on the menu causing his finger to
brush the tip of mine.

I’d been a fool to believe that it
was not possible to feel sexual desire from a light touch in a non-sexual
place. Because desire sizzled down my arm from the place of contact and blazed
a determined trail to my pussy. It was as if he’d stroked my clit. Shit, I was
in trouble if I stayed for dinner.

Glancing at him, I saw he wasn’t
looking at the menu as I suspected but at me. He was in the process of scanning
my body. Sitting beside me, he could see the swell of my cleavage in between
the parted fabric of my blouse and possibly a hint of the magenta corset I was
wearing. I believed a girl had to enhance her figure whenever possible.
Especially when you were a thick woman you had to ensure all your curves were
always on perfect display.

When his gaze rose and met mine, I
saw how his light green eyes had darkened to almost a forest green. That look
excited me. Over the years we had worked together I always believed our
attraction was on one side—my side. However, I couldn’t mistake the look he’d
given me for anything but interest.

“Kalan?” His tone was thick and
husky.

My name came out like a caress from
his lips. I lowered my eyes to those thin, firm lips, a pale pink color, and
wanted to lick them from corner to corner.

He swallowed. “Have you decided?” he
asked in a calm voice.

I wasn’t sure how he’d pulled that
tone off and gotten himself under control so fast when I felt like I was going
insane with lust. Yes, I had decided, I wanted to get to know this man and
having a meal with him was perfect place to start. “Lasagna. I’ll have the
lasagna.”

“Perfect. I’ll do the same.” Rising,
he crossed the room in a steady strut.

I enjoyed watching the play of
muscles below his shirt and the round tightness of his ass. My palm itched to
stroke them and feel the firmness.

Grabbing his cell phone from the
edge of his desk where he’d tossed it earlier, he called the restaurant. He
chatted for a moment with the owner or whoever worked there proving that they
were familiar with him, a regular customer.

“That’s two.” He laughed, tilting
his head back and giving a deep rumble. “No, Gino I’m not that hungry. A lovely
lady has actually agreed to eat with me.” He glanced in my direction and
winked. “Next time we’ll come in.”

A warmth of joy spread from my core
up and through my arms and leg then surrounded my heart.
Next time.
Since this was technically the end of our assignment together and we were from
separate departments there wasn’t any need for us to ever work with each other,
definitely not see each other. However, his words let me know he considered
possibly seeing me on a personal level. I hoped.

“I guess you’re a first name basis
regular?” I said when he ended the call.

Sitting on the edge of his desk,
Aaren folded his arms over his broad chest and looked at me. “Yes, I am. I
found the place when I first moved here from upstate Maryland. I’ve been eating
there for at least once— No, I’m lying—  Twice a week since then. Lunch or
dinner. So, I know that it is family run. Gino and Ammalina have been married
for forty years with five kids between the ages of nineteen and thirty-six, all
of whom work there. The oldest two are married.”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten
faithfully at a place to know more than the person’s name behind the counter
and they can tell me my coffee and pastry order.”

He shrugged and glanced down at the
floor, crossing his feet at the ankle. “I like good food and the family
environment.”

I wished he wasn’t so far away. I
had enjoyed him sitting beside me, but there was technically no reason for him
to be so close again. Damn.

“So, what would Gino and his wife be
able to say about you?”

Lowering his hands, he placed them
on the desk and pushed himself away. “That I work too many long hours.” He moved
back toward me but claimed the chair on the other side of the table instead.

“I can’t lie and say that’s me. I
come in early most times to get a jump on things, but this internal audit.” My
hands waved over the table full of print outs, graphs and our laptops and I
said, “Has given me new evening hours and put my life on a bit of a hold.”

Titling his head, he gazed at me.
“Really? So, what would Kalan be doing on a Friday night if not stuck here with
me?”

“Arguing with my family.”

His brow furrowed and he slowly
lifted an eyebrow and sat back. “You and your family don’t get along?”

Even though his tone was neutral,
something in it let me know that he had some problem with people that didn’t
get along with their family.

“Oh, no.” I laughed just thinking of
my family and the anarchy that would be going on in my parents' living room
even now. “We’re too close. All of us still live in the area and get together
often. But we are highly competitive like Christmas flag football
'championships'.” I made quotation marks in the air. “Game nights and
everything else in between.”

“Wow. How many is it of you all?” He
ran his hands through that thick brown hair of his and a short lock escaped and
fell on his forehead.

The need to reach out and twirl it
around my finger assailed me. Refocusing on his question, I continued,
“Probably twenty-six with all the kids and grandkids included.”

He lowered his gaze to his hands now
in his lap then glanced up, I could see that his light green eyes were bright
but held a shadow in them. “I’d always wanted to have a big family. I guess
that’s why I was drawn to Gino and his.”

“Is your family not close?” I could
understand how that could happen, my friend Oriana was a perfect example of
people being from the same bloodline but were as distant as strangers. For me I
didn’t know what I would do without my family in my life. No matter how crazy
we got at times.

I wanted to know more about this
man. His office had a painting or two on the wall, his two degrees were framed
and hung, but other than revealing the colleges he’d gotten his undergrad and
masters at, I knew little about him. There was a picture on his desk beside his
computer but it faced the direction of his desk chair. I figured it was a
picture of his dog or a family portrait like the ones that graced my credenza.
Anyone that walked into my office would be able to see the smiling faces of the
Henderson clan.

“Well, small would be the best way
to think about it,” he began. “It’s just my younger sister and I. We are really
close, especially since we lost our parents when they had gone on a mission
trip to rural parts of Argentina.  My sister and I were all for it. Our parents
had said they wanted something to do with both of us out of the house and
living our lives. They were only supposed to be gone for a month that turned
into five because they enjoyed the work they were doing there. Somehow they had
gotten a small tear in their mosquito netting, didn’t know it and one night
they infected with malaria during a severe outbreak. Apparently, Mom and Dad
had been giving their medication to the children there thinking they would be
okay because they were so up to date on their vaccines. That wasn’t the case.”
For a moment, he turned and glanced toward the window into the night lights
over the city.

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