The Hook Up (First Impressions)

by Tawna Fenske

  “Want help?” Ty’s voice was deep and rich, like liquid chocolate. He stepped closer, so close her arms tingled from the heat of his body. He held out his hands, palms pressed together, wrists angled toward her. His eyes met hers and Ellie shivered.

  “By all means,” he murmured. “Use me.”

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

  Ellie flashed back to her conversation with Miriam about flings. He didn’t know, did he?

  No. Miriam wouldn’t do that.

  Ty was just being helpful. That seemed to be his nature. Whipping his shirt off for a crowd of horny women didn’t seem like something in his wheelhouse, but he’d done it to make an old woman’s day. His willingness to be of service made Ellie warm with gratitude.

  Okay, so that wasn’t the only thing making her warm.

  She took a deep breath and reached for Ty’s wrists. “Thanks,” she said.

  Her voice came out like a squeak, and she cleared her throat as she wound the bright purple tape around those massive wrists, overlapping it and pressing firmly to secure it. Ty’s arms were muscular and covered in dark hair that felt softer than she expected it to. There was a light dusting of hair on his chest, too, and Ellie wondered if it would feel springy pressed against bare breasts. Her bare breasts.

  “There. That should be nice and snug.” She stepped back, needing to put some distance between them before she climbed his body like a jungle gym.

  “How do you get it off?” someone asked.

  “Yes,” Ty murmured, giving her a knowing look. “How do you get it off?”

  Ellie licked her lips. “You can unwind it, of course,” she said. “It’s reusable. But we also sell bondage shears like these ones.” She picked up the pair on the table, surprised to see her hands were shaking. “Some couples enjoy the thrill of cutting each other out of restraints. These are like the ones medical professionals use to cut bandages, so they’re very safe.”

  “Oooh, can I try?” Mrs. Sievers hustled up, and Ellie found herself smiling. This was her ideal kind of party, when women of all ages were refreshingly open with their sexuality.

  She handed the shears to the older woman, who giggled and leaned in close to cut Ty free. “Ooh, you’re a big fellow, aren’t you?”

  Ty grinned and glanced at Ellie. “So, I’ve been told.”

  Ellie’s mouth went dry. “Right.” She cleared her throat. “So, uh—let’s move on and talk about our lingerie line. Did everyone have a chance to look through the catalog?”

  “I have a question.” A shy-looking brunette in the corner had raised her hand, and Ellie nodded.

  “Yes?”

  “This mesh bodysuit—is this crotchless?”

  “Yes,” Ellie confirmed. “All the body stockings on page twelve are open between the legs.”

  A woman with apple-round cheeks and pretty blond curls gave a small sigh. “It says it comes in XXL, but I don’t know—would my husband really want to see me in something like that? Or would I just look like a trussed-up sausage?”

  Several women beside her tittered and patted her arm, but the woman looked up from the catalog and pointed at Ty. “No, I’m serious,” she said. “I know men are visual creatures, so I’m curious if this would be a turn-on or a turn-off. You can be honest with me, sweetie—bad idea?”

  Ty folded his arms over his chest and met the woman’s gaze with a softness in his eyes. A softness that made Ellie’s belly quiver before he even said a word.

  “You’re absolutely right that men are visual creatures,” he said. “And we can see when you’re rockin’ the self-confidence. Put on that body stocking or whatever the hell you want, and tell yourself you’re a sex goddess. I guarantee he’ll feel the same way.”

  The woman beamed at him, and Ellie wanted to kiss Ty. His words were one thing, but the sincerity in his voice was enough to make every woman in the room fall head over heels for him.

  Not me. I’m not falling for anyone. No, sir.

  Ellie cleared her throat and scanned the room. Several women ticked boxes on their order forms and pointed at items on the catalog pages.

  “What about toys?” one woman asked. “I’ve got a whole drawer full of ’em, and now that I’ve started dating again, I’m wondering if a guy would be freaked out if I show him.”

  “Maybe don’t bust them out on the first date,” Ty said. “But once you’re well-acquainted, any man who gets freaked out by sex toys isn’t much of a man.”

  Murmurs of approval rippled through the room, and Ellie telegraphed her gratitude to Ty. Would he take it the wrong way if she offered to buy him a beer later?

  She reached into her toolbox and pulled out one of Madame Butterfly’s best-selling vibrators. “This is called the Happy Jammer,” she said. “It’s very popular with couples because of the vibrating nodules here and here and right here—” She held it up, conscious of Ty’s eyes on her as she pointed out all the parts. “It’s designed to stimulate both partners,” she added.

  Kellyanne, a stunning African-American woman Ellie knew through her cycling club, put her hands on her hips and stared down Ty. “How about now, big guy? Threatened by something that size?”

  Ty smiled and shook his head. “Not even close.”

  The woman smiled. “I think I like you.”

  Ty smiled back. “I’m a likable guy.”

  Ellie’s heart bubbled in her chest.

  No kidding, buddy.

  …

  “Thanks again for all your help.” Ellie glanced at Ty and tried to decide if she was relieved or disappointed he’d put his shirt back on. At least now she faced less risk of drooling on the carpet.

  “No problem,” he said. “Which box should I stuff this in?”

  “Uh—right here.” Ellie pried open the flaps on a pink plastic crate and as Ty deposited the Buzzy Butterfly clitoral stimulator inside. “Thanks.”

  Thirty minutes had passed since the last guest departed, but Ty was still here. He could be home watching TV by now, but it was a relief to have his help. At this rate she might make it home in time to tuck Henry in for the night.

  “You don’t have to clean up,” she said. “I’ve got this, I swear.”

  “I’m atoning for my sins,” he said. “For all the douchey-sounding things I said the first time we met.”

  “For the last time, it wasn’t douchey.” Ellie folded a black lace teddy and tucked it into one of her crates. “You thought you were talking about bowling balls, and I thought you were giving me tips on being a new business owner. It was an honest mistake.”

  He eyed her curiously for a moment. “I never actually gave you any tips, did I?”

  “Sure you did. I know more now about bowling pins and ball-washing than I ever used to.”

  Ty laughed and closed the top on a pink crate before stacking it on her wheeled cart. “No, I mean actual entrepreneurial tips. Miriam asked me to give you a hand, and instead I talked dirty to you.”

  “It’s fine, Ty. Although now that you’ve watched one of my sales presentations, I’d be interested in any feedback you have.”

  “I thought you did great.”

  He was probably being nice, but her confidence had grown the more she talked. Still, there was room for improvement.

  “Seriously, I’d love your two cents on how tonight went,” she said. “Public presentations are more your thing than mine.”

  “Video is my thing,” he said. “I leave the public presentation stuff to the other partners. But if you want my opinion on that, I think you’d be terrific on camera.”

  Ellie snorted. “What, you mean hawking sex toys on late-night cable commercials?”

  “No, I’m talking about product demos.” Ty leaned back against a bank of cabinets and folded his arms over his chest. “Classy little how-to videos embedded on your website to show potential customers what something looks like or how it operates.”

  She grimaced and shook her head. “The women in the PTA at my son’s school would have a heart at
tack.”

  “You wouldn’t be broadcasting it on the five-o’clock news,” he pointed out. “You could even put them in a password-protected section of your website so only trusted customers would be able to view them. And you’d keep things very tasteful.”

  Ellie considered it. She liked that he’d said “tasteful,” which meant he wasn’t suggesting she do anything too sultry or suggestive. Just the same sort of things she talked about in her presentations.

  But the idea of being on camera made her queasy. She thought about bright lights and microphones and her annoying habit of tripping over her tongue when she got nervous.

  Then she thought about working with Ty. Like magic, some of the queasiness evaporated.

  “Is it expensive?” she asked. “Video, I mean.”

  “It can be,” he said. “But there’s a friends and family discount you’d get through Miriam.”

  “Really?” Ellie wondered if that was true or if he was just being nice. “That might help.”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you’d be open to trade.”

  Ellie blinked. She imagined herself exchanging sexual favors for professional editing work.

  Wait. What? She swallowed hard. “What do you mean by trade?”

  “You have a terrific voice,” he said. “I was noticing that during your presentation. Great enunciation, just the right pacing. Maybe you’d be up for doing a little voiceover work.”

  “Voiceover work?” Her voice cracked, and she wanted to smack herself in the forehead for repeating his words like some sort of deranged parrot.

  Ty, bless his heart, didn’t seem fazed. “There’s a whole series of commercials I’m producing over the next few weeks,” he said. “I’ve been looking for just the right female voice to use, and I think you might be a good fit.”

  Ellie nodded, embarrassed by her disappointment that he wasn’t propositioning her. “That sounds interesting. Is it for the bowling ball company?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Nah, it’s a company that makes kombucha. Mama Jama’s. I think your sound is perfect for them.”

  She smiled, pleased he’d noticed such an odd little detail about her. It seemed sweeter than if he’d noticed her legs or cleavage or ass.

  Not that she’d mind that.

  Ellie cleared her throat. “I’d be willing to give it a shot. The voiceover stuff, I mean. And maybe the video stuff.”

  “Great.” Ty grinned and uncrossed his arms. “In that case, I look forward to working with you.”

  Ellie nodded, looking forward to it a whole lot more than she wanted to admit. “It’s a date.”

  Chapter Four

  Ty fiddled with the damn boom mike again, wishing he’d had the foresight to order a new one before his first video shoot with Ellie Sanders.

  All right, if he were being honest, his frustration had nothing to do with the gadget. He could just use a lavalier mike and be done with it.

  No, Ty was on edge because Ellie Sanders left him reeling like a teenager with a crush. It was stupid. He’d worked with plenty of beautiful women in his career, but none made him feel like someone poured liquid fudge over his heart and handed him a spoon.

  That made no sense at all. See? He was losing it, and not just because Ellie Sanders was beautiful. She was also smart and funny and sweet and totally off-limits. A mother, for crying out loud. No way would he go marching into a situation with such a risk of someone getting attached and hurt and—

  Footsteps jarred Ty’s attention to the front of his office, and his pulse stuttered at the sight of Ellie in his doorway.

  “Hi there.” She hesitated at the threshold of the studio then shot a nervous glance at the camera. Feeling like a dick, Ty reminded himself not to ogle her. The way she stared at the equipment suggested a serious case of camera shyness.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not on yet. We won’t start rolling until you’ve had a chance to settle in and get comfortable.”

  “Unlikely to happen,” Ellie said, but she stepped into the studio anyway. She smoothed her hands down the skirt of a knee-length, pale blue dress with triangle-shaped cutouts on the sides, and Ty wondered what good thing he’d done in a past life to deserve this kind of view.

  “That’s a great dress,” he said, and ordered himself not to imagine what it might look like puddled on the floor at her feet.

  “It’s not too much? Miriam told me to dress a little sexy, but I’m so out of practice at sexy that I wasn’t sure whether to put on clean yoga pants or wrap my body in Saran Wrap.”

  “You pretty much nailed it,” Ty said, adding the Saran Wrap image to his mental spank bank. God, there were a lot of images of Ellie Sanders in there. “There is one small problem, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  Ty lifted the mike. “Normally I’d set up a shotgun mike on a boom to record the sound for the test shoot. But I’m having trouble with the clips.”

  “So we aren’t going to film, then?”

  The hope on her face almost made him laugh, but laughter wouldn’t do much to help her nerves.

  “We’re still shooting, but not until you’re ready,” he said. “My plan was to hook you up to a lavalier mike.”

  “What’s a lavalier mike?”

  “It has a little microphone that clips to a collar or the front of a dress. There’s a wire that feeds through your clothes and leads to a transmitter hooked to your belt or waistband.”

  “Oh.” Ellie looked down at the dress, which clearly had no belt or waistband. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it. We’ll just have to get creative.”

  Ty picked up the mike pack and studied the back of Ellie’s dress. “Maybe if you try pinching a little fabric in back?”

  “Sure.” She contorted her arms behind her and made a valiant grab for the small of her back. The material slipped from her fingers. Ellie tried again, an impressive display of dexterity. “Got it!”

  Okay, so it was a little off-center. Still, Ty wasn’t going to start putting his hands all over her. “All right, I’m just going to clip this right here.”

  He held the wires and mike in one hand and opened the jaws of the clip on the mike pack. He clamped them onto the fabric—something silky and soft. Almost as soft as Ellie’s hand, which he grazed as he let go of the clamp.

  “There,” he said. “That should—gah! Goddamn egg-whacking piss-wizard!”

  He reached out and caught the transmitter, halting its plummet to the floor. “Sorry for the language.”

  Ellie laughed. “Sometime within the hour, I’m going to be talking to the camera about sex toys. I’m hardly worried about a few creative curse words.” She gave him a curious look. “Where’d you learn to swear like that?”

  A dark cloud seeped into his consciousness, but he fought to keep it from showing on his face. “My grandmother.”

  She rested a hand on one of his high-backed chairs and regarded him with interest. “She sounds like a unique woman.”

  His throat was tight, so Ty just nodded. Nodded and reminded himself what it felt like to say good-bye to her—to his grandmother and to all the foster parents and foster siblings who’d followed. It was one of sixteen-thousand reasons he shouldn’t be thinking illicit thoughts about Ellie Sanders.

  “She was.” Ty cleared his throat. “I wish I’d had her around longer.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She touched his hand, and the sincerity in her voice was like a warm balm on his heart. “Losing someone you care about is such an awful experience.”

  Exactly. That’s exactly why he shouldn’t be flirting with Ellie Sanders. Mentally, he thanked her for the reminder, even though his heart wanted to soak up her kindness like a sponge.

  Looking away, he gripped the mike pack in one hand. “Would you mind if I took another stab at clipping this on you?”

  “Please, go right ahead. Obviously, I can’t reach very well.”

  “Okay.” He took a step cl
oser and pinched a large swatch of fabric together, careful not to let his fingers graze the bare skin showing through the cutouts on the side of the dress. The silky fabric was warm from her body, and Ty’s hands were unsteady as he clamped the mike pack onto it.

  “There,” he said. “How does that feel?”

  “Um, a little tight.”

  Ellie frowned down at the front of her dress. The outline of her breasts was a whole lot clearer now than it had been before, something Ty didn’t mind in the least.

  But he recognized that Ellie was uncomfortable.

  “Sorry,” she said, plucking at the front of her dress. “I’m a little self-conscious.”

  “Right. Sorry about that.” Crap, he definitely didn’t want her any more uncomfortable than she already was. He released the clip on the mike pack and tried again with a smaller swatch of fabric. “There. How does that feel?”

  “Better. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Okay, now we need to thread this wire up through the dress and—”

  “You mean under my clothes?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry; I’ll turn around to give you some privacy. You can try threading it up the side, though I guess that might be a problem with the wire showing through.” He gestured to the cutouts, and Ellie smoothed her hands self-consciously over them.

  “Sorry. I really should have planned better. I can run home and change if you—”

  “No! We can make this work.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, what if you, uh—threaded the wire from the back up through the front—”

  “You mean between my legs?”

  “Right. Yes, that would do it.”

  God, it was hot in the studio. Ty thought about opening a window, but that would seriously fuck with the sound. He handed Ellie the wire and the mike and took a few steps back. “I’ll just turn around, okay? You got it?”

  “I think so.” She seemed uncertain, and Ty wondered if there was any way of salvaging this, of putting her at ease.

  He turned his back, hoping a little privacy might help her. “Shout when you pull the wire through, and I’ll help you hook the mike to the front.”