That Man 7 - Nelle L'Amour
Ari Golden, the pharmaceuticals titan, sat catty-corner to me at my long conference room table. To the right of him, was my best friend Jaime Zander, the advertising guru, who handled most of Conquest Broadcasting’s advertising as well as that of Golden International. Jaime was the one who had connected us, thinking there was a good fit and money to be made. I was at the head of the table, waiting for my wife Jennifer, the head of My Sin-TV, our highly successful erotic women’s channel, to join us.
Drinking coffee that my longtime secretary Mrs. Cho had brought us, Ari’s eyes bounced around the room, taking in the posters of our many successful series and movies.
“I’m excited to meet your wife,” he said after a sip of the steamy brew, his gaze meeting mine. Just as he set down his cup, my wife dashed into the boardroom, breathless as she jogged over to the chair opposite Ari’s. She was wearing a summery floral wrap dress that demurely showed off the contours of her slender but sexy, toned body. She threw her stuffed backpack on the floor and, upon sitting down, lifted her tortoiseshell eyeglasses to her head, a small gesture that always gave my cock a little jolt. Her gorgeous emerald green eyes met mine, then Jaime’s.
“Hi, Blake . . . Jaime. Sorry I’m a little late. I was putting out a fire on the set of Well Hung.”
“I hope you called 911,” I deadpanned.
Ari’s brows lifted with amusement while Jaime stifled a chuckle. Lauren Blakely’s popular romcom was the latest bestselling erotic romance novel to be turned into a made-for My Sin-TV movie. These steamy chick flicks had proven to be extremely successful, helping to bring the price of Conquest Broadcasting stock to an all-time high.
“So what exactly was the problem?” I asked.
“The actor playing the part of Wyatt couldn’t get an erection on cue. After five takes, we finally had to give him a little ‘assistance.’”
With a smirk, I rolled my eyes. This frequently happened. The problem could usually be solved with a little dose of Viagra or porn, and if neither of those worked, there was always the sock puppet.
Fortunately, that was never my problem. Mr. Burns, as I affectionately called my cock, never had a performance problem, especially with my sexy as sin wife. In fact, he could likely win an Emmy for Best Performer in the Sack. Make that in the world.
“I wish I had those kinds of problems,” commented Ari, his eyes on my wife. “In the pharmaceuticals business, we have a whole different set of ‘ups and downs,’ no pun intended.”
“I bet,” laughed Jennifer, warming to Ari. My eyes stayed on him as he stood and rounded the table to shake my tiger’s hand.
A little older than me . . . thirty-five according to the research I’d done . . . the Fortune 500 mogul was blond, bronzed, and blue-eyed and wearing a five thousand dollar Brioni suit that rivaled mine. With a commanding presence and his over six foot athletic frame, he was movie star handsome. I’m talking Chris Hemsworth handsome, and seriously, the two could have been separated at birth.
“So nice to meet you, Jennifer.” His voice was deep and velvety and matched the seductive smile on his handsome face. “Jaime’s told me great things about you.”
I felt that little green-eyed monster—jealousy—rearing its ugly head, but upon eyeing his gold-banded ring finger I remembered that the charmer—once one of Manhattan’s most eligible bachelors—was a family man, happily married to a highly respected toy biz executive and the father of two children. As he held Jen’s hand, I couldn’t help noticing how long his manicured fingers were. That meant something else beneath his gazillion dollar suit was likely long too. I generally didn’t make it a practice to assess other men’s dicks, but without a doubt, Ari Golden was well hung. The green-eyed monster inside me grew bigger and greener. When it came to my tiger, I was possessive—and protective—to the point of doing some serious damage.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
“Good idea.” Ari nodded, finally returning to his seat. His gaze darted to me, then returned to Jennifer.
Take your eyes off of her, hot shot. She belongs to me! Inhaling a breath through my nose, I willed myself to calm down as a jean-clad Jaime chimed in.
“Blake, Jen . . . as you know, Golden International’s breakthrough skin-care product, Dermadoo, has been a worldwide phenomenon. In