My Toy Boy: A High Stakes and Hot Heroes Romance Read online

  “Please tell me you don’t live here.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you.” I open my door and climb out, then turn around and look at my boss’ shocked expression. “Thanks for the ride.” I close the door and dash past the hooker, jump over the drunk passed out in the hallway, and run up a flight of stairs to my place.

  The first thing I do when I get inside is find The Stimulator and head to my room. After a day of dicks and debauchery, I’m in need of a release.

  I close my eyes and think about all the sexy men I’d try if given a chance. Men like Ryan Gosling and Bradley Cooper and Jason Mamoa, but none of them are getting me in the mood, so I let my mind wander while I turn on The Stimulator and let it do exactly as it’s supposed to—stimulate. Back in the zone, the face that appears in my mind is Caine’s, with his strong jaw, a shadow of five o’clock scruff, and his dark-as-sin eyes.

  I tune out the sound of the game show coming from the floor above me and focus on my memory of Caine’s smile. The warmth of his hands. The velvet of his voice. The shape of his ass.

  Just as I’m nearing the edge, a familiar pounding from above mixed with a cackling bronchial voice yells, “Quiet down in there. I’m trying to watch “Wheel of Fortune” and that buzz is making my brain hurt.”

  My approaching release plummets to the scarred linoleum floor along with the stimulator. There will be no relief tonight.

  Four

  Caine

  “What the hell am I doing?” I ask myself as I sit outside of Janey’s apartment waiting for her to show. My eyes are bloodshot and my brain is foggy. This time I can’t blame it on the jet lag. I have to blame it on Janey, who haunted my dreams all night. After I dropped her off, I fought the urge to race back and pick her up. The woman lives in the hood, and that doesn’t sit right with me.

  I tap my fingers on the dashboard and count the seconds until I see her again. In the cup holder is a coffee just for her. She takes a splash of cream and one sugar, which I learned after watching her doctor up her coffee at Tupelo’s.

  Up the block, the lady in holy thigh-highs drags her tired body back toward the entrance of Janey’s building until she sees me. She walks toward my car with her hips swinging and leans on my door motioning for me to roll down my window. I open it a crack.

  “Not interested.” I say.

  “Come on sugar, I’ve got another inside of me if you’ve got a twenty.” She juts out her boobs and presses them to my window.

  “No thanks, I’m sure you’ve had plenty inside you, and I won’t be another.”

  She gives me a death stare before she walks away and disappears into the building. Five minutes later, Janey appears and I turn into a frozen mute. She steps out of the building dressed like she’s going to tea, which plays all kinds of games in my mind. The little pink flowers floating in a pattern on her dress fight the image in my head of her lying on the settee with my cock clone deep inside her. I shake the vision loose and manage to hit my head on the window. After a string of expletives, I open the door and call out to her.

  “Janey.”

  She looks up and sees me. I don’t know if her expression is happy or scared. In hindsight, I probably look like a stalker.

  “Mr. Stark. What are you doing here?”

  That is the question of the moment. I look around her neighborhood as if no answer is required. “I’m protecting my investment in you. I can’t have you mugged or murdered coming to work.”

  She looks back at the graffiti on her building. “It’s temporary. Just until I get my first paycheck.”

  “I’ll give you an advance.” I thread my arm through hers and walk her to the passenger side of the car. “Your ride awaits, miss.” The air swirls around me and I’m bathed in the scent of strawberries and cream.

  “Is this a perk you didn’t list on the offer?” She slides into the seat and buckles in, but not before she looks at me with those big blue eyes. Eyes that I can get lost in forever. “I like it.”

  I close the door and race to my side of the car. “I was in the neighborhood,” I say as I climb inside and start the engine.

  “Really? And what neighborhood are you from that you pass through the Mission District?”

  I turn my head to the side and whisper, “I live on Pine Street.”

  She turns my way making the hem of her dress slide up past her knee, a knee that I’d like to lick all the way up the inside to her pussy and back down the other side.

  “You went out of your way to pick me up. Why?” She reaches out and touches my arm and that sizzle that arcs between us crackles across my skin.

  “I was worried about you. Besides, I like you.” I might as well call Brad and tell him to place the ad because there’s no way I’m not kissing her today. Andrew can handle the bail when she puts me in jail. Somehow I think the risk will be worth it.

  “You don’t know me.” She pulls her risen dress over her knees.

  “No, but I’d like to.” Now it was time for the heat to rise to my cheeks.

  “I’d like that too.”

  I pull into the garage and slide into my reserved parking slot. In the cup holder, is her coffee. “I brought you coffee.” I lift the paper cup and offer it to her and when our fingers touch that familiar charge races through me again. It skitters up my spine and lodges in my chest—a heavy feeling of want and need that’s unfamiliar.

  “Thank you.” She sips it and hums a sweet sound of satisfaction, and I wonder if she makes those noises when she comes. I’m tempted to sit outside her door and listen while she tests products, but that would be creepy and a completely unsatisfying experience. Whereas, a single kiss could change my life. Although that seems so dramatic, I know it’s true.

  Seconds later I’m leading her into the office. Actually she’s leading me. I’d follow her anywhere. “Anything big happening today?” she asks. Her smile puts off a glow that surrounds her.

  Everything about her is perfect. I love the way she’s left her hair down to float over her shoulders. How the soft curls at the end rest on the mounds of her breasts. How the innocent pink dress cinches at her waist and flairs at her hips. How the hem brushes her knees, and her heels define the legs I want wrapped around my waist.

  “I’ve got a few plans. We’ll see how they pan out.” I reach around her to unlock the door to the suite of offices and inhale her sweet scent. “I’ll take you to lunch. Meet me here at noon.” I’m so tempted to press my lips to the top of her head, but I don’t. The first place I want my lips is on hers, the second is between her legs.

  “You don’t have to take me to lunch, Mr. Stark.”

  “But I do. It’s part of my plan.”

  She smiles at me and my dick twitches, forcing me to exit hastily before I embarrass myself.

  “Lunch it is,” she says.

  I watch from my doorway. The sway of her hips calling to something primal in me, or maybe it’s the fact that once her door closes, I know what she’ll be doing in there. We’ve had plenty of product testers, but none that I wanted to kiss, hold, or possess in the way I want Janey Pickle.

  One look at my disorganized office and my hard-on wanes. I have to focus, get settled and make a plan. The problem is, I’ve never been a planner. My success is built on seeing an opportunity and seizing it. Poor Janey didn’t even know what she signed on for when she walked into this office.

  I set my eyes on her and by the end of the day she’ll be in my arms, and if I haven’t lost my touch, tonight she’ll be in my bed.

  One look around my office and I see a dozen places where Janey will give herself to me. Against the wall, the door, the desk, the chair—the phone rings pulling me out of my fantasy. It’s Brad.

  “What do you want?” My voice is gruff from being cock-blocked even if it was just a fantasy.

  “What crawled up your ass? Did the little librarian not show up to work?”

  If Brad were here, he’d be wearing my fist. “No, she’s here, and don’t call her a librarian.
”

  A moment of silence hung in the air. “You’re the one that said she looked like a librarian.” In the background, machinery chugs to life as the factory began its day.

  “She’s…listen man. I’m in trouble here. She’s…mine.”

  “Oh shit…like yours as in you’ve had her or yours as in you want to test her out?”

  “You’re an asshole. Janey isn’t the kind of girl you test out. She’s the kind of girl you commit to and keep.”

  Brad’s laughter fills the room despite his absence. “Dude, you’re going to need a lawyer if you move on that shit.”

  “Well, get one on speed dial because I can’t control my feelings. There’s something there I want to explore.”

  “Don’t fuck us all over because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

  “Has this ever been a problem for me?” It pisses me off that Brad assumes I’ll screw up the business, but in reality, I may just do that.

  “No, but Cindy had the face of a Shar-Pei.”

  The visual made me chuckle, even though the woman wasn’t more than fifty, she’d spent too much time in the sun, and her skin was like dried leather.

  “And the body of a trucker,” Brad added. “You know what you’re doing, and if you don’t you need to figure it out right away. Don’t screw it up for all of us. Not many people are hiring a cock manufacturer these days.”

  He hung up, and I plopped myself down at my desk. I’d heard of instant attraction, but I never experienced it until Janey walked into my office. I knew I was sunk the minute she saw the wall of toys and stayed. Janey was either fearless or desperate and I planned to figure out which it was.

  Five

  Janey

  It was all I could do to walk away from the man. Hell, he brought me coffee, and that was the best foreplay in my book. And the way he looks at me like he wants to gobble me whole or lick me into a quivering mess.

  I flop down on the chaise and dig into my purse for The Stimulator. Knowing I won’t be able to enjoy it at home, I brought it back to the office. Its sleek silver coating heats in my hand.

  I look toward my door and back at the little thing that resembles a bullet. Could I? Should I? I look around my office at all the sex toys. Each one holds its own allure. All of them foreign to a girl whose last boyfriend thought missionary was the only way to do it.

  Many of the toys were made for partner play, and I considered what type of man would indulge in something like a clit pump or anal beads. Caine Stark is who. One more glance around the room and I was past yesterday’s thought of, I’d never masturbate at work, to what can one time hurt? My final justification was the fact that this was my job. Who in the hell got paid to pleasure themselves? I did.

  I hike my dress to my hips and push my panties aside. Slick with arousal, I run my fingers through my folds and shiver. It has been way too long and after the almost big O last night I am sorely in need of a release. Add to that the constant pull of my sexy boss, and all I need is a quick stroke and I’ll be over the edge.

  I close my eyes and flick on the vibrating bean and settle it between my legs. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me but it doesn’t take me over the edge like I think it will. Being a walking exposed nerve ending is new to me. One look at Caine Stark and I know I’m in trouble. His presence is like a live wire arcing through my body and settling on my clit each time we’re together. My brain tells me he’s trouble. My body and heart tell me he’s going to be worth it.

  His heated eyes stare back at me in my fantasy. His hands roam my body. His tongue licks and sucks at me. My hips rise to meet him. He hums against my sex. The vibration so powerful it sets me free. I ride the orgasm through the hills and valleys and finally lay limp on the white settee. All alone with my dress hiked to my waist, a vibrating toy in my hand, and my fantasy of Caine I fall asleep only to wake up to a knock at my door.

  Shit. I scramble to my feet. “Coming.” I call out and immediately want to melt into the floor. “Just a second.” I pull my dress down and smooth it over my thighs before I open the door to find Caine.

  “Are you hungry?” He leans against the doorframe in that nonchalant, sexy-as-hell way men do that shows off every muscle in their chest and arms. He looks past me to the chaise. “Build up an appetite?”

  I follow his line of sight to The Stimulator lying on the floor and I want to die. “Umm.” What do I say? I can’t tell him he brought me to orgasm. Instead, I rush to the seat and shove the small but powerful vibrator into my purse and then march myself toward the door. I keep reminding myself that I did nothing wrong. “I’m doing my job,” I say, but I’m not sure who I am trying to convince, him or me?

  Caine shoves off the doorjamb and settles his hand on my lower back. He leans over and breathes me in. “You smell like sweet fruits and sex. It’s a powerful mix, Janey.”

  Any other man that tells me I smell like sex would find my size seven shoes up his bottom but the way Caine growls it out makes me want to press him to the wall and kiss him.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good thing Mr. Stark.”

  He stops in the middle of the hallway. I lean against the wall needing the solid surface to hold me up. He cages me between his hands on the wall. “It’s a good thing, Janey.” He leans in and takes a big breath. “A very good thing. And call me, Caine. I’ve been wanting to hear my name roll off your lips.”

  “Caine. Is this a good idea?” He’s poised to kiss me, and I want it, but is it wise? I lay my hands on his chest thinking that the gesture will stop him, or stop me but the feel of him under my fingertips stirs another wave of desire.

  He leans in and brushes his lips across mine. “Probably not, but I’m not known for being cautious.” He runs his tongue along the curve of my jawline until his teeth nibble at my earlobe. “If you don’t want this to happen, you need to tell me now.” He steps back and pulls my hands from his chest. “Did you think of me when you were pleasuring yourself?”

  My knees buckle, and he leans into me to pin me against the wall. I want to tell him no, but the lie refuses to leave my lips. “Yes. I thought of you.”

  His erection presses hard against my belly. He lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses my fingertips and then he sucks them into his warm heat one by one, the velvet of his tongue tasting me.

  “No, I need—”

  “To let me taste you. I’m jealous of these fingers, Janey.” He goes back to sucking them one by one.

  “Oh, God,” I moan. “What are you doing to me?”

  He pops my finger from his mouth. “Nothing yet, but if you say yes, I’ll do things to you that you can only imagine.”

  I lean my head against his hard chest. “I can imagine a lot.”

  Caine steps back and smiles. “Let’s feed you. You’re going to need your energy.”

  He steps back and adjusts the hardness in his pants. A bulge that can only be described as massive.

  Still wobbly on my feet, Caine wraps his arms around my waist and gives me the support I need to make it across the street to Tupelo’s where we are seated in one of the private booths.

  “I need to wash my hands.” I begin to rise but Caine reaches out and pulls me back.

  “Don’t go. I fear you’ll run out the door, and I’ll never see you again.” He flags the waitress down and asks for a hot, wet, towel.

  “I’d never do that. Does that happen to you a lot? Do women run in the opposite direction?”

  He’s so damn sexy that I find myself scooting closer.

  “No, but then again, I’ve never gone after a woman with such brazen abandon.” He scoots in closer until our thighs are touching, the heat between our bodies like an iron set to cotton. “You feel that?”

  A nervous giggle bubbles from me. “How can I not? You’re on fire.”

  His hand reaches below the table and rests high on my thigh. “You’re wrong. We’re on fire. I’ve never felt like this with anyone. Not like this.”

  “I don’t want t
o lose my job. I need it.”

  He lifts his hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me closer. “No matter what, your job is safe. I’ll put it in writing.”

  I chew my lips and twirl my hair. “I want this, but I’m scared.” I collapse into him giving up what little fight I had in me.

  “This is going to happen, Janey, and it’s going to be amazing.”

  Before I can say anything, the waitress appears with the towels and takes our order. Caine ordered enough food for a family of four.

  Fifteen minutes and one long panty-wetting kiss later and our food is here. I look down at the platter of dirty rice, gumbo, and blackened catfish.

  “That’s too much,” I say.

  “Do I need to remind you? I plan to deplete your energy all day long. Eat up, sweetheart.” He presses a long lingering kiss to my lips, and I swear I can live on that alone.

  Lunch is pure torture mixed with bliss. Each bite gets me closer to the promise of Caine, but it’s taking too long.

  Over Cajun food and sweet tea, I get to know Caine, the man. It’s nice to realize that he’s more than a sex toy distributor. He’s a loyal friend, a savvy business partner, and not a man whore. If he is to be believed, he could count his sex partners on one hand, which is significantly more than the one I can claim, and almost virginal by today's standards.

  “So your boyfriend took everything and left you?”

  “Not everything, I got to keep most of my clothes.”

  “He’s an asshole.”

  “We’re in agreement.” I thread my fingers through his. “What if your girlfriend left you for my boyfriend? It’s just too coincidental don’t you think?”

  Caine thumbs my chin up, so I am forced to look into his dark chocolate eyes. “I love the idea of fate stepping in to bring us together.” He closes his mouth over mine and strokes the inside with his soft velvet tongue. If the man makes love the way he kisses, I’m at risk of losing everything, or if fate is real, gaining everything.