Briefly Yours

  Briefly Yours

  An Erotic Romance

  Madison Martin

  Briefly Yours

  Copyright © 2008 by Madison Martin

  Published by Chances Press, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  Also by Madison Martin:

  The Deep End: Erotic Stories For Women

  Toying With Temptation

  Nights on Catalina

  www.madisonmartinbooks.com

  1

  Heat surged through every inch of Ava Parker’s body, and she squeezed her eyes tight while a wave of sensation overtook her. She braced her back against the wall and stifled a long, ragged moan. Her breath came in soft pants, and every muscle went limp, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. She fantasized about stripping her pantyhose off before sweat ran down her thigh.

  Come on, now. Don’t panic. You can do this.

  It wasn’t every morning she met with the Skiv-Ease International Board of Directors, and no matter how hard she’d worked the last few weeks to prepare the beginnings of the men’s Valentine’s Day underwear line, she couldn’t calm down.

  The CEO’s assistant opened the conference room door and gave Ava a wide, warm smile. “They’re ready for you, Ms. Parker.”

  Ava managed one deep breath, despite her pounding heart. “Thanks, Heather.”

  This is it. Don’t blow it.

  She clutched her large black portfolio in one hand, and felt her French twist with the other to make sure no strands had escaped. She smoothed down the skirt of her best black suit, cleared her throat, and strode into the conference room.

  The nitty-gritty of the business went on in here, and from the rumors floating around the company the past few months, the nitty-gritty wasn’t going too well.

  Ava’s eyes roamed from Marshall Matheson to Colin Sheppard, to Skiv-Ease International’s CEO, Thomas Fielding. The guy to the right…she stifled another wave of panic. Nobody told her she’d be putting on a performance for him today, too.

  He wore a hip designer suit and his dark brown hair in a trendy cut, but his killer smile would get him noticed if he were dressed in a potato sack. During the past two weeks she’d caught an occasional glimpse of him in the lobby, and once, she’d seen him walking outside on Melrose Avenue, laughing with another exec on their way back from lunch. The center of attention with everyone around him, he moved like he had all the time in the world.

  She’d refused to act ridiculous like every other female in the company, and scoffed at their giggles and whispers while they took bets about the woman most likely to get “The New Guy” into bed. Some thoughtful person had stuck a copy of the final list they’d come up with in her inbox. At the very bottom, voted least likely to end up in the sack with Mr. Wonderful, was Ava Parker. She’d crumpled it up and tossed it into the recycle bin with a grimace. Part of her didn’t blame her coworkers. After all, she wasn’t bound to get a reputation as the company seductress designing granny panties.

  Fielding stood and adjusted his jacket. “Good afternoon, Ms. Parker. You know Mr. Matheson and Mr. Sheppard.” Fielding turned to Mr. Wonderful. “May I introduce Justin Barrett. Mr. Barrett will be overseeing the financial aspects of this year’s Cupid’s Beau Line.”

  Mr. Barrett stood to his impressive full height…six feet? Six one? He extended his hand, firm and gentle all at once when it closed over hers. “Ms. Parker.” A deep and masculine voice accompanied a smile that made all the blood rush to her face.

  When his confident, sparkling brown eyes met hers, Ava’s mouth went dry. She tore her gaze away and muttered, “Nice to, uh…meet you.” She wished she had something to wipe her clammy hands on. Get a grip, Ava. Since when did the sight of an attractive guy make her lose her concentration?

  With renewed focus, she looked up at the execs and smiled. “Well, let’s get right to work, shall we?”

  The four men settled expectantly in their chairs, waiting for her to wow them. If she didn’t know better she’d think Mr. Wonderful just checked her out. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, she opened her portfolio, and propped ten designs down on an easel. Her sketches of men’s underwear were displayed before them: five pairs of boxers and five briefs, each with its own special design she imagined any woman would love her guy to wear. And since she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a man in or out of his underwear, that’s all she’d been doing: imagining.

  She cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, may I present…my concepts for next year’s Cupid’s Beau Men’s Valentine’s Day line.” She stepped aside so they could see the easel.

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught Mr. Matheson nodding. Mr. Wonderful looked on, interested.

  Conjuring up bravado, she held her hand out, presenting the first sketch. “These briefs are all about using flattering lines, but using a modern, cutting edge design at the same time. See how this first pair cuts just below the hip. I’ve given each pair in the line a special Valentine element.” She pointed to lettering on the upper right side. “This one reads, ‘Be Mine.’” Her hand moved to the waistband. “The dark red stitching around the elastic adds an extra little flair, and contrasts with the white fabric. .”

  She glanced over and caught Thomas Fielding furrowing his brow.

  “Do you have any other sayings on there?” he asked.

  “Oh, um…yes. There’s plenty of room for longer sayings. No limit to that,” Ava replied.

  The exec nodded and scribbled down some notes.

  She took a deep breath and drew their attention to the next sketch of a pair of red boxers. “These are designed to ride low on the hips, with a comfortable fit through the…um, through the rear…and the heart on the front not only adds a nice Valentine’s touch, but also doubles as a single-packet condom pouch…”

  Despite the flush burning her cheeks, she looked up and tried to find someone to make eye contact with. That’s what you’re supposed to do while speaking in public. Problem was, while the other three of them focused solely on the sketches, Mr. Barrett refused to look away from her. She cleared her throat and bit back a cough. “Any…any questions so far?”

  Fielding’s eyes narrowed and he scribbled a note on the yellow legal pad in front of him. “Can you summarize why you chose the color scheme you did?”

  “Of course.” That was a no-brainer. She’d spent the better part of a week toying with a scheme that worked. “Since the line is geared for the holiday, I felt the use of bright colors was important, so I used a consistent scheme throughout. Bold, but classy and simple.”

  Her voice trailed off and she held her breath, waiting for some sort of response. She fantasized about having had time to sew some mock-ups to prove the designs would look even better in 3-D than on paper.

  After a tense moment of silence, someone finally spoke.

  Matheson’s gray eyes bored into hers. “Throw a thong or two in the line.”

  “At least two,” Sheppard countered, clicking a ballpoint pen in and out. “Last year’s demand was huge. We should offer a wide choice.”

  Ava gulped. Thongs? As if studying how best to flatter the male crotch with a pair of briefs hadn’t stretched the limits of her imagination already.

  Fielding cleared his throat and looked down his horn-rimmed glasses. “Barrett, get me a cost analysis for nylon. Thirty-thousand units…” He looked over at Justin, an expectant look on his face. “Aren’t you going to write that down?”

  Justin folded his arms across his chest, a confident smile on his face. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “Oh, no, Mr. Fielding.” Ava’s heart sank. “Not nylon. Microfiber for the briefs. An
d the highest quality silk for the boxers.”

  “And the highest expense,” Justin Barrett pointed out.

  Ava stiffened her shoulders and shot him a defensive glare. “That fabric is the core of my Conservo-Skiv-Ease line. Judging by sales last year…”

  Justin cut her off. “I’m well aware of the profit last year from your Conservo line.” His brown eyes met hers and he gave her a mischievous look that said he saw right through her.

  She stiffened her spine and refused to let him faze her. “Then you realize the numbers speak for themselves. The Conservo line made…”

  “I know exactly how much your line made last year,” Justin interrupted. “I also know that the men’s Valentine’s Day items are purchased as novelties. The concept matters…not the execution. They won’t be worn more than once, anyway. No man will care what they’re made of.” He relaxed against the back of the chair and crossed his legs at the ankles, hands behind his head.

  Fielding tapped a pen on the table, a questioning look on his face.

  She struggled to draw in a breath, trying not to let Mr. Barrett’s easy, confident manner irritate her when her life’s work was on the line. “Let’s not forget that in most cases women will be buying these for men, and to them, the material we use is of the utmost importance. Last quarter we sold more of my microfiber bras than the cotton and synthetics combined.” She found herself getting impatient. Justin might be a man, but she figured she’d learned more about men’s underwear the past few weeks than he’d learned his entire life. “Besides…research shows that men like…uh…the softest thing they can get against their… um…their…”

  His eyebrows shot up and he looked at her with an amused look on his face, like he couldn’t wait to hear how she’d dig herself out of this one.

  Her gaze darted toward the floor, then back up at him. “You get the picture,” she murmured. She bit her lower lip.

  “I think I’m beginning to.” His twinkling brown eyes stared and challenged her. “I take it you’ve done extensive research on the topic?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. She supposed he’d asked a valid question. If he knew her women’s Conservo line, he knew that sexy men’s underwear was the furthest thing from her usual work. But how dare he suggest she hadn’t done her homework, when she’d been slaving away on this topic every spare second?

  She gathered the last bit of confidence she could muster and held her head up high. “Trust me. I’ve done plenty of research.” Her pulse raced. Since when did some financial guy decide which fabrics she could use? “How can you think anyone would want nylon boxers if there are better options?”

  Justin stood up and came out from behind the table. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and paced for a few steps. “What other options did you have in mind?”

  A rush of excitement coursed through her. If she could make them as enthusiastic as she was about her future plans, her work would be done. She had no choice but to strip her black blazer off. She grabbed a bit of her white silk blouse and thrust it toward him. “Feel this.”

  Justin’s eyes met hers. They never left as he took the bit of silk in his hands, and brushed his fingers across the front of her blouse. A little jolt of electricity shot through her, and she tried to forget the fact that his touch made her insides melt.

  Justin mused. “Not bad. But…” He gave her a look like he could one-up her little trick, and then reached down inside his pants and pulled out some fabric from his boxers. “Feel this.” He swiveled his hip, inviting her to touch.

  Without thinking, she grabbed a handful of fabric, letting her fingers slide against the soft, slick material.

  He grinned. “Nice, huh?”

  She had to admit the fabric was soft against her fingers. She furrowed her brow. “This is synthetic?”

  His eyes met hers. “Yup.”

  She pulled her hand away. “I don’t believe…”

  Justin yelped.

  What the…? She looked down to find her silver watch caught in his underwear, and she’d yanked something she shouldn’t have. She panicked trying to pull away and ended up pulling more material with it instead.

  “Hold on.” Justin’s hand covered hers to stop her from doing more damage.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, her face growing hot. The last thing she wanted was to end up with her hand stuck in his crotch. “Here, let me…”

  “I can handle it…”

  She glanced up and found a horrified look on Fielding’s face, and wished she could sink into the floor.

  They wrestled over the watch, until a loud ripping sound reverberated through the room.

  She gasped, and looked down to discover that Justin’s boxers now had a nice hole in them. “Uh…sorry.”

  He grinned at her.

  “If you two are finished.” Fielding’s voice echoed through the huge conference room.

  Ava raised her head and found the Board staring at Justin and her like they’d both lost their minds. She cleared her throat and whispered, “Um, yes. Quite finished.”

  Justin tucked his boxers back in and readjusted his pants. “Yep,” he said, looking chagrined.

  “Good!” Fielding boomed, shuffling the pile of paperwork in front of him. He glanced up at Ava through his bifocals. “Ms. Parker, thank you for…enlightening us on the Cupid’s Beau line.” He stood and adjusted his tie. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ll get back to business.”

  Gathering up the last remnants of her dignity, she pursed her lips and gathered up her designs. “Of course.”

  The board members filed out of the conference room, leaving her to clean up her presentation. If there was one thing she took seriously, it was her work, and she’d just made a complete fool of herself.

  Ava trudged down the hall toward her office, barely picking her heels up off the floor. All that work…and they hated it. Tears came to her eyes. “Back to business” probably meant figuring out how to tell her they were taking Cupid’s Beau away from her. Then again, this wasn’t completely her fault. What were they thinking, placing her in charge of creating this line? Everyone knew she designed the most conservative underwear on the planet. Sure, her department had been the most successful one in the company last year, but she specialized in comfort, not sex appeal.

  She turned to find Leslie Ferguson and Derek DeMarco of the Spicy Hot Lingerie line behind her.

  “Hey, Ava,” Leslie teased. “I tried on your Lift-O-Bra the other night. It’s got so much under wire I can hang all my suits on it.”

  Ava grimaced without looking back. The creators of ultra-sexy women’s lingerie, Derek and Leslie loved nothing better than to torture Ava every chance they got. They thrived on coming into her office and attacking her mannequins. They’d strip off their girdles, robes, or new bras, then put them on and prance down the hallway laughing for everyone in the company to see.

  “P.S.” Derek chimed in. “Love your new Girdle-Skiv-E. My grandmother wouldn’t be caught dead without it!”

  Ava rolled her eyes, oh-so-happy to be the butt of their jokes. She picked up the pace while she headed down the hallway.

  “Wait up, Ava! Hey! How’d the meeting for Cupid’s Beau go?” Leslie called after her.

  Ava clutched her portfolio more tightly against her chest and ignored them.

  “Hey, we’re not laughing at you! We’re laughing with you,” Derek laughed, nudging Ava’s shoulder while he and Leslie walked past.

  Ava grimaced when they almost made her drop her portfolio. If they’re so smart, how come my line’s the only one that turned a profit last year?

  Heather brushed past carrying a stack of white full-body slips over one arm. “Don’t listen to a word they say,” she said. “They’re just jealous. Since the minute Andrea left, everyone’s been clawing all over each other to get Cupid’s Beau.”

  “Thanks.” Ava sighed, grateful to have someone on her side. She managed the slightest hint of a smile despite her watery eyes. Sure, everyone mig
ht want to take over the line, but did they want the pressure that came along with it?

  Rumor had it that Andrea Chatsworth was one pair of briefs away from finishing the all-important Valentine’s Day line before her nervous breakdown. She’d destroyed every design she’d created, leaving Ava without so much as a starting point.

  Everyone knew how much pressure came with this line. Almost a quarter of the company’s profits for the year came from it, and when Ava had been ordered to take over, she hadn’t been given the slightest hint of what to do. Although she’d done her best, who was she kidding? If that meeting was any indication, she hadn’t been up to the task.

  “Barrett, what are you thinking? Can Parker pull this off?” Fielding took a sip of wine over lunch on the patio at Marino’s Restaurant on Melrose. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and waited with an expectant look on his face for Justin to answer.

  “We’ve got a lot riding on her if we let her take this on,” Fielding continued. “This company has taken a lot out of me. I’ve thought about selling it off piece by piece, but something tells me to give it one more shot. I’m too close to it and I can’t decide what’s best. I need your help.”

  Justin watched the lunchtime crowd perusing the shops and wolfed down another bite of chicken cacciatore. No question about it: the woman had done her homework, and despite her fabric choices, he liked the plans she had for Cupid’s Beau. Considering the Conservo-Skiv-Ease line was the only one to make it out of the red last year, she had to be doing something right. Hearing her out was the least he could do. He wouldn’t exactly consider it a chore taking a meeting with her. Maybe he’d find out if she always wore her dark brown hair up in a twist. Did she let it fall loose around her face every now and then? Watching those sexy little dimples in her cheeks while she spoke drove him crazy that morning. And no guy stood a chance looking into those green eyes.

  Justin cleared his throat and dug his fork into the pasta. “I’ll need to do further research. Weigh the cost versus benefit. I have more questions for Ms. Parker.”

  Fielding didn’t have to know that his further research included finding out what she wore underneath that conservative black business suit. Did she know how turned on a guy could get when a woman wore those? The sight of her long, sexy legs in black stockings was enough to do him in. And did she actually wear the granny underwear she designed? Or was that all for show, and underneath she had on some sexy little bikini? Not that it mattered one way or the other. Whatever her personal Skiv-Ease attire consisted of, he planned on getting her out of it as soon as possible.